I'd Go The Whole Wide World

I've been going through a lot, dating wise, the last few months...(prompting my last blog) but also going through nothing at the same time.  Whenever I'm down, which has been often lately, my favorite girls are there to pick me back up.  Recently having this conversation, again, with a friend, I realized all of these conversations are exactly the same.

(Be advised, the majority (aka all) of my friends are married (or divorced) with kids.  They ALL have someone.  I'm literally the last person I know from my friends growing up that is still single and ready to mingle.)

Here's the list of advice I get from every single person:

#1 I THINK YOU'RE AWESOME!

Yeah, I think I'm awesome too.  I would make a fantastic girlfriend!  I love football.  I drink beer.  I think I'm pretty funny, but the jury is still out on that one.  I'm introverted, so I need my alone time, therefore I'm definitely not needy (if anything, I'm quite the opposite of needy).  I have a job!  I love baseball.  I'm educated.  And I'm a traveler.

However, as awesome as my female friends think I am, they're not trying to date me.  And I'm not trying to date them.

From Derbyshire, England to...

#2 YOU NEED TO MOVE TO A BIGGER CITY

That argument is mute and completely invalid.  Yes, I currently live in the most derelict town on the planet, but I have literally traveled the world.  I've lived in the US, Scotland, England, Thailand, and Korea.  When I lived in Asia, I literally lived in the most densely populated area of the world.  I've traveled all over Europe and Southeast Asia.  Dating and men are the same everywhere.

Believe me.

...the twinkling lights of Singapore

#3 IT'LL HAPPEN WHEN YOU LEAST EXPECT IT

That line doesn't work on me anymore, either.  At one point when I lived in England, after being rejected for the umpteenth time, I decided I was done chasing guys and telling them I was interested in them.  I told myself if they liked me, they could chase me for a bit because I was tired of running.  They never chased and I didn't care.  I was busy traveling and discovering who I am as a person.  I learned a lot.  I also was least expecting love, and guess what?!  It didn't happen.  For probably a good five years.

That's a long time to least expect something.  I'm just sayin.

I looked in Kyoto, Japan.

#4 HE'S OUT THERE SOMEWHERE

Honestly, I'm not trying to be a pessimist here, but I don't really believe that anymore.  Like I said, I've been around the world...if in my mid-late 30's, dude still hasn't found me yet, I'm just one of those people that's strong enough (most of the time) to rely on myself.  Like I said in my last blog: There is nothing a man can do for me that I can't do for myself.

And in Iceland, where even stone trolls have someone to kiss.

#5 THEY'RE THE ONES MISSING OUT

Yeah, I know that.  But dudes don't know that.  It sucks that they don't even give me a chance to see what they're missing out on.  The guys that I've been interested in over the last few years, they're genuinely good guys...however, they're just not good to me.  They basically treat me like I'm covered in contagious scales and warts and the only way to keep from getting infected is to either ignore or be a jerk to me.  Or both.  (I'm not covered in scales and warts, by the way).  So yes, un-scaled, un-warted me knows that the dudes who un-reciprocate my feelings are missing out...but that doesn't mean that it still doesn't hurt.

It hurts a lot.  Sometimes that hurt will last a few days, others last months.  And that's when I need my friends...so I text them instead of texting Dude, who inevitably won't text me back making me feel even worse.  Because that's how every guy I've ever met acts.

I mean, who wouldn't want to date this?  A thousand times better than Lara Croft.

To my friends who have these conversations with me, please don't take offense (it's actually funny how similar every conversation is).  I appreciate each and every one of you...you are the ones keeping me afloat.  I'm also not giving up.  I'm still on the hunt for Mr. Darcy...he's just annoyingly elusive.

Happy Trails!

And for good measure, I'd still go the Whole Wide World just to find him...

Repatriation Part 2: Undateable Me

In my last blog, I mentioned three things I wanted to focus on after Repatriating back to the States.  The first was rehabilitating my leg.  The second, which that blog focused on, was my career.  And the third was finally feeling ready to give my heart to someone, which is waaaaaaaay easier said than done.

Since moving home, I've realized how travel has made me completely undateable.  Here's why:

#1 I AM FIERCELY INDEPENDENT

Growing up, I've always been what I call, a floater.  I have many friends of different backgrounds, with different interests, in different social circles.  I only have a few very close friends that know me inside and out.  Because of that, I've always done things pretty much on my own.  The older I got, the more independent I became.  I started going out to eat on my own, going to the cinema on my own, and visiting countries solo.

I'm pretty sure guys don't know how to deal with an independent chick.  I genuinely believe there is nothing a man could do for me that I can't do for myself.

Takin' in that view: Cliffs of Moher

#2 I AM A SOCIAL RECLUSE

Because of that independence, I've become too comfortable with my own company.  Not to mention, I'm incredibly introverted.  If I spend a day with someone, I need two or three secluded days to recover.  The amount of energy it takes for me to go out and meet people now is exhausting.  And honestly, I've been alone for so long that I really would have no idea how to be someones second half.

Dudes, correct me if I'm wrong, but y'all seem to like those -needy- girls.

Upside of a recluse: Kilroy selfies

#3 I AM A SEASONED SOLO-ER

I started traveling alone out of necessity...the majority of my friends (aka, -all- of them) had their own lives.  They either already were in relationships, or they at least had the best friends that I never really had, so why would they want to come with me?  I've become seasoned at goin' alone.  And I'm pretty sure because of that, I make a horrible travel partner.  For example, a friend had come to visit me when I lived in Thailand.  Early one morning, she was really sick and needed to go to the hospital.  I told her to get a tuk tuk, then I went back to bed.  When I woke up, I felt horrible (and still do).  I didn't think to go with her because I'm used to figuring things out and doing them alone.  I just don't think about others...not because I'm a horrible person, but because I've never had to.

Also, I'm used to doing things on my own terms.  I literally have no one to answer to but myself when I'm on the road.

Making furry friends!

#4 I HAVE ZERO FASHION SENSE 

Most females I know enjoy dressing up.  Dresses, heals, bling.  Me?  Nope.  Travel requires comfort.  Sitting on an overnight bus for 12 hours to get to a hostel and immediately start exploring your new city takes jeans or leggings, t-shirts, and hiking shoes.  That sense of fashion has definitely followed me home.  I am not a girly girl, and as much as I try to dress up, I'm uncomfortable and fail miserably at it.  I'm not one of those flirty girls that dudes seem to flock to, I'm more like "just one of the guys".

I don't care what I look like...because I'm fabulous regardless 

#5 TRAVEL HAS MADE ME SELFISH 

I'm selfish and I fully admit that.  I've been too busy discovering myself to invest in anyone else.  When I lived overseas, I built walls around my heart because I get attached easily and put my heart into things far more often than I should.  And it backfires every single time.  When I moved back to the States, I decided to drop those walls and all it's caused me since is pain and misery.

The ideal dude: Mr. Darcy, who, I'm sure, real dudes have no idea who he is

#6 IT'S HARD TO RELATE TO WESTERNERS

There are very few Americans that have passports, and even fewer still that venture beyond cruise ships or Mexican beach resorts.  I was genuinely surprised that I didn't meet many Americans in Peru.  In Europe?  Yes, there are more around, but not nearly as many as other nationalities who wanderlust with the best of them.  Because I travel, I'm incredibly open-minded and see things from a million different views.  I also have a lot of stories, and traveling stories are pretty much all that I know or have to talk about.  I feel like people think I'm pretentious or think I'm trying to make them jealous by talking about my experiences.  I'm 100% not.  It's just what I know.  Therefore, I don't say much around people anymore, because I don't want to push them away.

Guys don't seem to care about my stories or ask questions to keep the conversation going.  If you're not interested in my life experiences, I'm not interested in you. #SorryNotSorry

Conquering Inca ruins in Ollantaytambo

#7 I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FLIRT

Admittedly, I've never been in a relationship.  I've been on a few dates, but nothing that ever amassed into anything worth talking about.  I don't know how to be a flirty girly girl.  I'm honest and forthright, and I don't play stupid games.  Ain't nobody got time for that.

If I like a guy, I tell them.  And I'm definitely discovering that guys can't handle a girl that knows what she wants.  I've been rejected more times than I can count...but at least I'm not wasting time pretending to be someone I'm not.

Heeeeey...goin' my way? Jokusarlon, Iceland

#8 I'LL NEVER STOP TRAVELING

This is non-negotiable.  Travel is vital to my system.  It's therapy.  It brings me balance.  If I meet a dude that wants to travel with me, great.  If not, he better be fine with me being gone for weeks at a time because that's who I am and I'll never stop exploring this world.  The moment I'm back from one trip, I'm already dreaming and planning the next five trips.  That's what comes from meeting people abroad and hearing about what they've done and where they've been...It opens the door to so many more places to see!

Machu Picchu opened the door for six more World Wonders I HAVE to conquer!

So...if you're a travelin' dude that likes travelin', independent chicks, give ya girl a shout!  I'm not the one missing out.  You are.

Happy Trails!

And because I Go It Alone...

Repatriating Part 1: Starting a Career

I've been back in the States for three years now, which is incredibly hard to believe.  It really doesn't seem like I've been home for that long.  It's easy to say that for the last two years, I have been suffering with depression.  It's caused by a culmination of many things, but for the most part, it's from the complete loneliness of moving home and being completely un-relateable to the majority of the people I'm surrounded by.

When you spend years living abroad, it changes something within you.  I came back and everything was the same.  But I was different.  It happened every time, which is why I kept leaving and finding somewhere else to go.

My first move overseas was to Scotland the year I graduated college.  I had a six-month visa to live and work in the UK.  I was working at a hotel in the Highlands, pretty secluded, and my boss was an absolute nutter.  Combine that with your best friends saying how much they missed you and wanted you to come home, I quit my visa after four and a half months and went home.  I was expecting this grand welcoming with my friends inquiring about my trip and what it was like in Scotland.  I was expecting to couple-up with this guy I had been in love with.  I was expecting a lot more than, "hey, you're home, that's cool...".  It was in that moment that I realized what I'd lost: An opportunity to do something that no one I knew (or still know from home) will ever have...an opportunity to explore the world and myself and fill a void that most of my girlfriends fill with marriage and babies.  (not meaning any offense by that...most girls love babies, some prefer plane tickets).  It was in that moment that I decided that was the last time I'd do anything because of someone else.  It was in that moment that I became selfish.

The first time I moved abroad and my family came to visit.  They don't visit me anymore.

It's a funny thing, coming home.  Nothing changes.  Everything looks the same, feels the same, even smells the same.  You realize what's changed is you.
- F. Scott Fitzgerald

Fast forward 13 years and 25 countries later.  I moved back for many reasons.  First and foremost, I needed to let my leg fully heal...I just needed to rest.  Second, there was 100% no fulfillment in my career as a teacher working in a system that doesn't value you, but know's you're more than replaceable if you don't agree with how things work.  Third, I was (am) finally ready to give my heart to someone, something that apparently is less than likely to occur - wait, scratch that - I have given out my heart, I just haven't received one back...I am an expert at unrequited love.

For length's sake, I'll just focus on one of those reasons for moving back in this blog: My career.

I now have a job that I love.  I love it.  I feel like I finally have a purpose and I'm doing something that makes a difference, all while challenging me and expanding my knowledge daily.  And because of that, I have no plans to leave.  However, while my career has settled, my social life has become non-existent, which I'm blaming more and more on my previous life as an Expat.

You see, I can talk Travel all day long.  Where I've been, where I plan to go, where you've been and are planning to go...what it's like to enjoy a bowl of noodles in a hawker in Singapore, or what the ancient stones that make up Angkor Wat feel like under your fingers.  Traveling is my passion, it awakens my soul.  But I can't talk about it anymore.  Because where I live, the people don't understand it, and I almost get the sense that they feel like I'm pretentious and trying to make them jealous.  I'm not.  Traveling is just...me.  It's who I am and what I know and I love to encourage others to get out there.

Where I am now, I just can't talk about the places and feelings I've experienced, because I've learned that most people I know respond negatively to that, and I've isolated myself, becoming a mere shell of the person I am.  Detached and surviving.

Travel, when undertaken habitually, becomes a potent intoxicant...The more you do it, the more you find a way to keep doing it.  It becomes vital to the system.
- Josh Gates, Memoirs of a Monster Hunter

That quote, as I'm sure anyone who travels will tell you, is spot on.  Travel is vital to my system.  I booked an impromptu trip last month to Peru, after a rough month at work and my depression deepening to the point of insanity and mental breakdowns.  I had a great time and felt happy again.  But when I got back, I realized that trips now just act like Band Aids, covering a deep crevasse of a wound that feels like it's never going to heal.  The Peru Band Aid lasted only a few days, before it fell off leaving the wound festering and bleeding for everyone to see.

I yearn for views like this. 
Cusco, Peru

I came home from Peru with the newest edition of National Geographic Traveler in my mailbox and immediately started "Oooh-ing" and "Awweee-ing" while thumbing through the pages.  There's an article on Scandinavia, which I immediately squealed that I need to go back, to Norway this time.  Norway will have to wait, though, purely because it's one of the most expensive countries in the world and I should probably get the cheap ones out of the way first.

So, to my friends here, I honestly try not to bother you about my adventures unless you ask...but it's definitely a struggle not to bring up my preference for papaya salad when you say you want Pad Thai for lunch.  To my international friends, the connections I've made: Let's meet up!  In a coffee shop in Bavaria, or at Petra, the Taj Mahal, or Chichen Itza.  I'm down for whatever, just tell me if I need a jacket :)

Happy Trails!

Photo of the Month: Machu Picchu

I wasn't going to take a vacation this year.  Even considering the itchy feet I have been feeling since the spring, I was still going to focus on the trip I'm planning for next year.  I was going to spend my vacation traveling around Colorado and visiting the places I haven't seen since I was a child.  But then August happened.  And August was shit.  I worked several calls that reinforced my belief that when your time is up, it's definitely up.  Then I covered the worst call of my career, and decided I needed to get the hell out of dodge, purely for my mental stability.

Peru has been on my list for over a decade and I kept putting it on the back burner.  Mainly because I was living in England, so exploring Europe.  Then I was living in Southeast Asia, so exploring Asia.  And with plans to go back to Asia next year, I decided Peru...if not now, then when?  I found an amazing deal on flights (yo, you gotta be flexible and patient when looking for flights, and look at many different sites to find something that will work for you), and I booked it.

This was the most impromptu trip I've booked.  And also a rare one where I was traveling all on my own, not meeting at least one person I know somewhere along my route.  This was all me.  And all I knew I wanted to do was to make it to MachuPicchu.  So with literally no plans, no destinations (besides Cusco and MachuPicchu) in mind, I set off.  I could go on and on about Peru, but for this Photo of the Month, I'll focus on the reason why Peru happened: MP.

When I had decided over a decade ago to visit MP, I wanted to do it proper: trek the Inca Trail.  However, due to unforeseen circumstances during my stint in Asia, trekking up mountains is pretty much impossible for me now...especially on an impromptu trip booking.  So I did it the tourist way (not that trekking isn't touristy, it definitely is, especially in Peru).  Bus from Cusco to Ollantaytambo.  Early morning train from Ollantaytambo to Aguas Calientes.  Then bus up the side of the mountain to MP.  There's a good, probably 1/4 mile of stairs you still have to climb to get to MP...which was definitely trek-enough for me :) 

Going to MP, I knew that you are supposed to enter with a tour guide.  So at the gate, there was a guide and a group of people, which I asked if I needed to wait.  He said yes, so I waited.  We all went in together where he began explaining who-knows-what because it was all in Spanish.  My 8th grade Spanish was good enough to get me by in the cities, but to go on a full tour in Spanish?  Nope.  The day before, I was stuck on a full-day tour of the Sacred Valley in Spanish, and I wasn't about to go through that again.  When the guide was finished saying whatever he was saying, I asked him if there was an English tour.  He said no.  I didn't believe him, but I also didn't want to walk back down to find an English tour guide...so I got lost in the crowd and went off by myself.  I'm pretty good doing shit on my own.

Taking the bus from Aguas Calientes, the further up we drove, the heavier the clouds and fog became.  I was worried we wouldn't be able to see anything when we got to the citadel...and I was right.  Once I got to the top, after climbing all those stairs and the ruins appeared, everything was covered in clouds and fog.  I became incredibly emotional, as I have a tendency to do, and started crying -- not because of the fog, but because it had taken me SO long to get there, and considering my physical state, I fucking made it.  I knew, through patience, the clouds would break sooner or later, so I found a spot to sit and reflect on my life and what brought me here, and I waited...after about a half hour, the clouds parted and MachuPicchu was more than I ever could imagine.

MP - after the clouds and fog broke...a sight I will never forget

MP is enormous...far bigger than it is in the countless photos I've seen of it.  I spent my time exploring the ruins, feeling the majesty of the Inca and what they accomplished.  I also couldn't get over the fact that I was incredibly dehydrated, because common sense left me in my excitement, I forgot my water, and for some strange reason, thought there would be water vendors amidst ancient ruins.  There's not, if you're wondering ;)  Luckily, wearing my Colorado t-shirt, some fellow Coloradans started chatting with me and offered me a bottle of water they had...they brought extra because they're smart.  I'm sure they had a premonition that they would meet an idiot along their route that they could help out.

MachuPicchu is a place you need to experience.  You can't just see a photo of it and be satisfied.  And it now has me on a quest to conquer each wonder of the Seven Wonders of the World.  MachuPicchu is a pretty good first one, if you ask me.  Never give up on your dreams...no matter how long it takes you to achieve them or what obstacles you have to overcome.  They're worth it.  Every damn one.

Happy Trails!

Photo of the Month: Temple of the Rooster

One of my favorite activities when I was bored in Chiang Mai was temple spotting.  I've never been very religious, and one of the reasons why I wanted to travel to Thailand was to learn about Buddhism.  I don't exactly call myself a Buddhist, but over the last few years I've more or less began to adopt its practices and definitely believe in spreading love, kindness, and compassion.

I really enjoyed visiting Buddhist temples in Chiang Mai, and with over 200 in that city alone, there was always a new one to explore!  I learned that there are 12 temples dotted all over Thailand dedicated to the 12 animals of the Chinese Zodiac.  From childhood, I was told I was born in the Year of the Rooster.  And I hated it.  I never wanted to be a Rooster, "who wants to be a chicken?!" I would cry.  I wanted to be the Monkey.  Monkeys are cute and funny and mischievous.  But I wasn't a Monkey and I finally began to accept that I was a Rooster.

However...: On a side note, I recently discovered this year that I actually am a Monkey...although my year of birth was the Year of the Rooster, my date of birth was still during the Year of the Monkey.  Not gonna lie...I had a bit of an identity crisis once I discovered the truth.

Alas, I digress.

When I was still under the impression that I was a Rooster, I discovered that the Temple of the Rooster was located in Lamphun, Thailand - roughly 20 or so miles from Chiang Mai (that's totally a random guess from memory, I'm too lazy to actually Google the proper distance).  On my journey to self-discovery (which I will now have to do all over again), my friend and I got a bus to Lamphun one afternoon.  The bus was this rickety old thing and hot as Hades with floor fans - like a fan that you would put on the floor in your house, and not unlike the ones that cause Fan Death in Korea - hanging from the roof of the bus...but what more do you expect for a fifty-cent journey, right?

We made it to Lamphun and after walking around for a bit, found the temple.  The temple itself was quite small in comparison to many others, but there were many chedi's on the grounds, covered in mini Buddha statues and offerings.  The heat of the day was stifling, I felt like I was melting right along with the candles that were dripping down the sides of the chedi's, turning into puddles of saffron-colored wax.

Buddha on a chedi

There's something about this photo that I really love.  The colors, the heat, the textures.  Saffron is a sacred color in Buddhism...if you see a tree wrapped in a saffron colored cloth, it means it's been blessed by a monk and cannot be removed.  You can observe hundreds of trees along the sides of roads that were meant to be cut down for expansion, but were saved by monks - a beautiful visual representation of love and compassion!

My friend and I didn't stay too long at the temple because of the heat.  We decided to have a meal and an ice cream, then make our way back to Chiang Mai.

I was happy to have visited the Temple of the Rooster...but now I have to go on a journey of re-self-discovery and find the Temple of the Monkey ;)

Happy Trails!

Hey, hey, I'm a monkey!

Photo of the Month: 창경궁 Seoul

Last month when I posted Photo of the Month, a friend asked if I had posted any Photos of the Month from Korea, and I realized I hadn't.  Korea was interesting for me...I didn't really have the opportunity to explore the country as I normally would because of the FrankenAnkle fiasco.  When I first arrived in Korea, I still had no idea that I had originally broken my ankle 10 months prior.  After I found out that I needed surgery, I was in too much pain to really explore anything.  Post-surgery, I was on crutches for six months, which made adventuring difficult.  When my doc said I could finally ditch the crutches, my time in Seoul was coming to an end.  I did get out some, but the amount of quality photos I have from Korea are few and far between than previous countries I've visited.

I've been reminiscing about my time in Seoul lately, with a visit from one of my best friends who still lives there, and thinking about my students - hoping they're doing well and feeling blessed to have (hopefully) had a positive impact on their lives, so I'll dedicate this Photo of the Month to Seoul.

The second my doc told me I could ditch my crutches, I was suffering from an extreme case of cabin fever.  I begged my Korean co-teachers to come with me to Changgyeonggung Palace in Seoul...I had heard legends of its Secret Garden and I was dying to see it.

The Secret Garden of Changgyeonggung was so peaceful, in the middle of a bustling city.  You have to join a tour group and pay an extra fee to go through the garden, but since I was relatively slow going, my friends and I were left in the back of the group, a plus since we could take photos without a large group of people in them, but we also were not able to hear what the guide was telling us about the area.  The tour was a bit of a trek as well, quite hilly, which also slowed me down.  But hey-ho, it was great to get out of my apartment and discover some culture that I had never really given a second thought to before moving to Korea!  It was also just a lovely day spent with my co-workers...I can definitely say that day we spent exploring Changgyeonggung Palace was my favorite day in Korea.

창경궁

If you're ever in Seoul, a visit to the palaces is worth it, especially the Secret Garden of Changgyeonggung.  You can check out my full photo blog post of Changgyeonggung here!

Happy Trails!

Photo of the Month: Angkor Wat

I didn't want to go to Cambodia.  Well, let me re-phrase that: I never had a desire to visit Cambodia...it was just a country in Southeast Asia that I had never given a thought about.  But my friend was coming to visit me in Thailand and suggested we take a four-day trip there.  Meh, ok...it's next door to Thailand and cheap, so I'm in.  And that was the end of life as I knew it.

Cambodia was what I thought Thailand was going to be: Real.  Insanely friendly and accommodating locals with genuine smiles and curiosity.  It was like stepping into the past.  And maybe all of that would have worn off if, like Thailand, I lived there.  Or maybe the Cambodians were more over-accommodating since I was travelling on a broken ankle.  Or maybe it was really genuine.  I don't know.  All I know is that those four days in Siem Reap were enough to make me fall in love...and I've been dying of a broken heart, aching to go back to feel what I first felt when I laid my eyes upon Angkor Wat for the first time: Joy.

I was so overcome with emotion when I saw that spectacular silhouette that I started crying.  To see, in person, this ancient civilization and feel the spirit of an ancient culture, every part of me was grateful and blessed to be there.  Even while fighting the throngs of tourists.

All over the ruins of Angkor are children...running, chasing your tuk tuk, begging you to buy something from their basket of souvenirs - be it postcards, bracelets, candy - their big, sad eyes pulling at your heart strings.  The worst part is knowing your money doesn't go to them, that it more than likely goes to their owner or whoever gives them a bed and food.  Those kids broke my heart, and put into perspective the privilege, that even I growing up poor in the US still had more than they do.

When we entered Angkor Wat, I saw this little guy, minding his own business and eating his bag of fruit and rice.  He was adorable.  Dwarfed by the masonry that his ancestors built centuries before, it gives perspective at the enormity and beauty that Angkor is.

I'm looking forward to the day I travel back to Cambodia and feel their culture and kindness once again...all while enjoying a coconut shake and spicy noodles, of course!

Happy Trails!

Savage Chocolate Chip Cookies...

This is very much a non-travel related post...I love baking (as you can tell by my pudgy mid-section!), and it's one of the things I dearly missed while living as an expat in countries where apartments don't come with ovens.

I'm a self-proclaimed cookie connoisseur, and (humble brag) make some savage chocolate chip cookies.  My friends keep asking me for the recipe, so to make life easier on myself, I'm just going to post it here.

I think I found this recipe on the HuffPost and made some adjustments to suit high altitude baking, because: SCIENCE!

These cookies are seriously yummy, and addicting A-F.  They're chewy, chocolate-y, and super rich. I always prefer them the next day, but they're still just as good fresh from the oven.

Ingredients:

The magic.

2 cups flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
3.5 oz Instant vanilla pudding
Pinch salt

1 1/2 stick softened butter
3/4 cup of brown sugar (I use dark brown, the original recipe called for light brown)
1/4 cup granulate sugar
1 large egg
1 tsp vanilla

12 oz bag chocolate chips

*******************************************

In a bowl, combine the flour, powder, soda, pudding, and salt....set aside.

In a large mixing bowl (or stand-alone mixer if you have one), cream the butter, sugars, egg and vanilla until well creamed - at least 3 or 4 minutes.

Cream the shit out of that...

Slowly add the dry mix, I usually add half and mix until combined, then add the other half.

Add the dry...

If the mixture is crumbly, add 1 tablespoon of cream and mix....keep adding 1 tablespoon of cream at a time until the dough sticks together (mine at high altitude takes 2-3 tablespoons).  You can also use water if you don't have cream.

Crumbly bumbly...

What your mixture should look like after adding the cream

Add the chocolate chips and mix.

Try not to eat the dough....even though you want to....the end game is worth it.

Use your 1/4 measuring cup to measure out the dough, roll into balls and slightly flatten.  It makes roughly 18 cookies - depending on how much cookie dough you ate along the way.

Now...here's the important step: Refrigerate the dough AT LEAST 2 hours, this is standard for all bomb ass cookie recipes...you need to give the butter time to harden again so your cookies don't flatten out when they bake.

REFRIGERATE THOSE BALLS!!

Bake @ 350 degrees - you'll have to adjust your time accordingly, the original recipe advises 11 minutes, but I bake mine for 17 at high altitude.  You want to slightly underbake them because they'll continue to bake when you pull them out of the oven.

Let the drooling commence...

Let 'em cool and enjoy the savageness of the best chocolate chip cookies everrrrrrrr!!

Happy Baking Trails...
I promise a bomb ass travel blog next time!

Photo of the Month: Cambodia and the Bayon

I'm itching for an adventure.  A solo one, because I'm pretty much over humans at this point.  You know how I know when I need to get away?  I start acting like a crotchety old lady...and I've been crotchety and moody for months now.  I want to go somewhere off the grid, but not entirely.  Just off the grid enough that my phone doesn't work so that the people who only text me when they want something can't get a hold of me.  Somewhere that I can talk to someone in broken English and learn something new about their culture.  Somewhere that also serves a delicious spicy bowl of noodles and a mango-something desert.

Y'all...I can't even begin to describe how fed up I am.  It's a culmination of little things that add up over time and take small hits on my overly empathetic heart.  My last blog entry, I wrote about how my life has turned on itself: where there was once a semblance to my social life but my work life sucked, now my job is great but my social life?  What's that?  You try to make friends, make yourself vulnerable to dudes that you fancy --- which in and of itself is hard enough...it took me DAYS to send a text telling Dude that I was interested...only to get a "maybe" response.  Well, in the words of Jack Johnson, "It seems to me that 'maybe' pretty much always means 'no'".  And what have I heard from him on this subject since?  A big. fat. nothing.  So, to the dudes of the world I say, if a chick tells you she likes you, it probably took a LOT for her to say something, to take that risk...grow a pair and give her an answer, even if it's one you know she's not going to like, she'll respect you a lot more for that.  I'm just sayin.

So this is where I'm at.  Chillin' on my own, hiking on my weekends in the great Colorado Rockies, and counting down the days until my September vay-cay.  Unfortunately, this year is a no-go for international travel, since British BFF is coming to visit.  So, Photo of the Month's get me reminiscing and dreaming of past adventures, yummy noodles, and broken English conversations while standing in awe at the base of ancient temples.

Today, my memories take me to Cambodia.  Because I didn't have a desire to visit Cambodia...ever...but I fell 110% in love.  So right now in my mind, I'm in a tuk-tuk, following the throngs of tourists swarming to the Bayon, one of the many temples on the grounds of Angkor - a seriously magical place.  One that brought me to tears the moment I glimpsed it.  And I'm happy.

Entrance to an ancient civilization

Now, if I could get a damn bowl of spicy noodles and a coconut shake, I'd be feeling pretty grand :)

Happy Trails!

And, well...Jack.

..."If we lose our hope, that is the real disaster"

I was having a conversation with one of my fellow non-small town transplant coworkers the other day.  We're both from the city and both moved to this small town for work.  And we're both lonely AF.  We both have to do things on our own because neither of us have proper friends up here, lots of friendly acquaintances yes, but nothing more than that.  We can't exactly do anything together because of the demands of our schedule don't allow us days off together.  It's funny...I'm closer to people who live 15,000 miles away than I am with people I see on a daily basis...the irony, right?

While in the midst of our conversation, another coworker basically told us it's good for us to learn how to be independent.

Uh....what did you just say to me?

I know this guy quite well and know he said this in jest, but I still felt compelled to point out to him that I've moved country five times, SOLO, twice to non-English speaking countries.  I was involved in a life-altering accident in one of those non-English speaking country's and had major surgery in the other.  All alone.  I had a few friends who would pop around every now-and-then to help, but mostly during that traumatic shit, I was on my own.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining because it made me who I am today, but don't tell me I need to learn to be independent.  I'm independent AF.  So forgive me, if, after 13 years of traveling solo, I'd like to have someone to share shit with.

Life seems to have this funny way of flipping itself.  I used to have some semblance of an introvert's social life, and that part of my life is pretty much non-existent now.  While the part that used to suck (work), is now amazing and frankly the only thing keeping me around.  (Seriously though, the only thing I've ever felt as much passion for as I do about my current job is travelling and experiencing new cultures).  But then there's that other part of my life that has NEVER gone accordingly: relationships - it's never actually existed...me trying to land a boyfriend is like trying to capture Bigfoot, or a Yeti, or the Loch Ness Monster, or a chupacabbra (which is basically a dog with mange).  I do believe they exist, but capturing them...well let's just say that would be easier than me meeting a dude.  All I'm asking for a is Norse God Viking of a man, not much, right? All I'm saying here is, it would be nice if everything went well, if just once...everything in life worked in perfect harmony.  But apparently that shit only happens in movies.

I don't know...maybe I just need a vacation to cure this funk I've been in (of course that's what I need...vacations cure all sorts of things, even if you pick up malaria along the way, funks are still cured with vacations).  Or I just need a good friend to hang out with.

So if you're lonely, too...give ya girl a holla, I'll be out adventuring and shit because I'm still not waiting around for you :)

"No matter what sort of difficulties, how painful experience is, if we lose our hope, that is the real disaster" - Dalai Lama

The epitome of loneliness, crutching your way around Angkor Wat through a sea of tourists

Happy Trails!

Photo of the Month: Look up, London!

Two months, two photos...Maybe this Photo of the Month thing is finally going to stick?

I love London.  For only about a day or two.  Any more than that, it just wears me out - more mentally than anything...as introverted as I am, I can only take so much of crowds, especially the tourist crowds.  And London is all crowds and all tourists.  But it always draws me back.  It's so iconically British: The Tower of London, Buckingham Palace, Oxford Circus, Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, the London Eye, Tower Bridge, fueling up with a plate of fish and chips and a pint of lager...it's all British and it's everything I think about when I'm dreaming of London.

One thing I learned when I lived in England was to look up.  On the ground, it's store front after high street store front: Marks & Spencer's, Boots, Top Shop, Dorothy Perkins, NEXT, Costa Coffee and Starbucks, Greggs and Pret-A-Manger...all typical store fronts that are found all across the country.  But when you look up? That's where the magic is.  England is old.  And the architecture is beautiful and for the most part, unchanged and preserved.

I was hanging around the Westminster area of London on this particular day and glanced up, I was treated with just the tip of Big Ben peaking out over the chimney covered rooftops.  I stood there, in that moment, taking in where I was, the aches and pains in my ankle and back just disappeared.  I was expecting to see Mary Poppins blowing by under her umbrella and was waiting for Bert to pop up out of a chimney with his chimney sweep and break into a song and dance.  My reverie didn't last long, my screaming feet reminded me that standing in one spot too long is not good when you've been walking on them for miles over the last few days.

Jolly doomy, gloomy London Town!

Next time you're in London, or England (or even Europe for that matter), take a moment and glance upward.  Enjoy the craft in the architecture that was built centuries before.  Then find a quaint tea shop and British the shit out of your afternoon with a cup of tea and scones with clotted cream!

Happy Trails!

And of course, a little Mary Poppins magic...

Photo of the Month: Skogafoss, Iceland

Another attempt at Photo of the Week, but let's be honest, I know my habits and know I'm not going to stick to a weekly photo...so let's try Photo of the Month ;)

Iceland.

Glorious Iceland.  Since, let's say...2011, I was becoming more and more interested in visiting that tiny island to find myself a Viking of a man to bring home as a souvenir.  A good friend had gone and told me how amazing it was, which initially peaked my interests.  Then, it seemed that posts on Iceland started popping up more frequently, with gorgeous photos of irresistible landscapes that I couldn't take my eyes off of.  Bands like Of Monsters And Men, Kaleo, and Asgeir entered my life - and if you know me and my obsession with music, it's a pretty damn good selling point to get me to go somewhere.  Finally, when I was laid up from ankle surgery, I spent time watching film after film.  One of those films (now a definite favorite) was The Secret Life of Walter Mitty.  I was sold.  I had this overwhelming need to visit Iceland: a dream I realized this past September.

Iceland is everything and more of what I could ever ask for in a country.  Not too touristy (yet), great food, kind and cheerful locals, and most of all breathtaking landscapes - a photographer's dream destination.  The land of fire and ice.  On my second day, I was already planning my next trip back.

I suppose my five days in Iceland, I considered my "taster", dip my toes into that country and get a feel for what it is, so I can adventure the hell out of it next time around.  So, I kept my base in Reykjavik, and joined various bus tours to visit the places I ultimately needed to see.

Bus tours.  Ugh...I was reminded why I stopped doing them.  They're great for meeting people, and as a solo chick, that's cool (if you're not as introverted as me), and they're also great for learning about the regions from your local guide.  But damn, they suck for photographers and adventurers!  There were SO many places I wanted to stop, get out an explore but instead I was limited to taking pictures from the inside of a bus and relishing in a 10 second drive by.  Iceland is like waterfall after waterfall after gloriously beautiful waterfall...you don't need to go chasing waterfalls in Iceland, they chase you!  And when the bus does finally stop, the guide gives you a mere 20 minutes to cram as many pictures and selfies you can on your camera.  I'm the kind of person that likes to take everything in...really experience a place: the sounds, smells, the taste of the air, views...then snap some pictures to refresh my memory of how that place made me feel deep down in my soul.  You can't do that in 20 minutes.

That brings me to this month's photo: Skogafoss.  Surprisingly, I was never that impressed with photos I had seen of Skogafoss...it just looked like a waterfall.  And it was merely a stop on the way to the Jokusarlon Glacier Lagoon.  Holy. Shit.  Skogafoss was just fantastic, and damn those 20 minutes for making me fall in love with a place, then tearing me from it, not even offering to buy me dinner, or a drink, first.

Skogafoss.

When time allows, you can hike up to the top of the falls...which is absolutely on the itinerary for next time.  Skogafoss is massive, so much bigger in person than I could've imagined.  And the spray, well considering the water comes from a glacier it was ice cold and incredibly refreshing after sitting for hours on a stuffy bus.  The rainbows bursting from the base, the cry of the seagulls, shivering and trying to quickly wipe the spray from the camera lens, running back to the bus dripping wet and freezing cold - I can't wait to go back to Skogafoss and truly enjoy its splendor!

Next time, bus tours are off the table.  It'll be me, a car, and the Ring Road...camping, stopping where I want to stop, exploring where I want to explore.  My dream vacay.

Happy Trails!

So many theme songs to choose for this blog...but I'm going with Of Monsters And Men because they're Icelandic I adore them :)

Travel is fatal to ignorance

Yesterday, as I was leaving crossfit, a guy that I work with was coming in for the next class.  As I was walking out, he randomly said "don't get hit by a car on your way home"...to which I replied "Once was enough for me" and explained my experience in Thailand.  This guy is your typical Team-America-Fuck-Yeah-Trump-Supporting-Obama-Hating American (not that I'm judging, I am, but whatever...we are who we are, right?)  His suggestion to me was to stay within the confines of the US Border and things like getting hit by a motorbike in Thailand won't happen.  Seriously dude?  Do you really think that pedestrians don't get hit by motor vehicles within the border of the United States?  I call bull shit on that...literally the day before, I took a call of a vehicle versus pedestrian that my Troopers responded to.  And this guy is a law enforcement officer, so I'm pretty sure he is aware that pedestrians get hit by vehicles, it doesn't matter what country you live in.

This brief interlude got me thinking of a quote I recently read:

Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts.  Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime.

- Mark Twain

I could've argued with that guy until I was blue in the face about the benefits of leaving the confines of the US Border, but I know well enough that those arguments would've fallen on deaf ears.  I've learned that it's pointless to argue with stoic, close-minded brick walls...it's wasting breath that should be better spent on holding so you can lose it the moment you lay your eyes on an ancient Asian temple - thick with the scent of incense and the ghostly whispers of millions of prayers from yesteryear, or when you witness a Mediterranean sunset, or enjoy a night of laughing with new foreign friends over a few pints of beer.  That's what I'll save my breath for.  Therefore, my response to "stay inside the US Border so you don't get run over" was that that sounded pretty fucking boring to me!

A moment I will never forget, praying with this kind man in an Angkor temple

In all honesty, I'm quite grateful for guys like this one that I work with.  They give me perspective and they do stay within the confines of the US Border - so I don't have to defend their ignorance when I'm travelling abroad (which I've had to do countless times anyways).  I do the best I can to give my country-folk a good name when travelling, especially considering the current conditions in the US (he didn't win the popular vote, y'all).  Respect culture, be open to learning about the people - their struggle and way of life, learn their smiles and embrace their kindness, it's enlightening and eye-opening.

Breath-taking sunsets on Kata Beach, Phuket

So dude, you stick to your American life...I know I can count on you to be all guns-blazing when those "very bad people" come knocking on our doors, here in Small Town America.  I got this travellin' thing covered.  I'll tell you how mouth watering that real Cuban jerk chicken is, and what a bowl of Pho is supposed to taste like, but I'm sure you won't care ;-P

I'll handle the travellin' and capturing of beautiful memories, dude...don't you worry about it!

Happy Trails!

Because...YOLOOOOOO!