Utopia in Ubud

After Bangkok, I Julia Robertsed my way into Indonesia and found that life in Bali is a life worth living. You're pretty much welcome to do what you want, if what you want is going to the beach or the jungle, hanging out with monkeys or riding a scooter to a waterfall, sitting by the pool, eating tropical fruits and soaking at the spa, or climbing up a volcano, or just doing magnificent yoga all day. If you don't like any of these things, I am not sure what we are going to do if we ever hang out.

The Yoga Barn has one million yoga classes, a delicious cafe, a hotel and a spa, so I stayed there a lot of the time. I also stayed at the pool of the Green Bird Villa hotel where they fed me banana pancakes in the mornings. My friends drove me around on motor bikes to places with tribal drumming and cafes with fire pole slides. I got a two hour massage with flower bath for $13.

Consider this self treated.

And the monkeys... I will tell you more about the monkeys soon.

Breezing through Bangkok

I went to Bangkok for two days, and all I did was wear a skirt with sneakers and spill mango juice on my respectful temple shawl.

I did also enjoy drinking Chang beer and riding river boats.

Thailand Takeaways

It's strange the way you meet people when you travel. You could be bouncing along completely fine on your own, then you make a friend for a couple of days before parting ways, and you end up wondering how you ever got on without them. That's how I wound up sitting on a balcony in Chiang Mai, talking with my new friend Drew about life and the illusion that anything is worth worrying about other than this moment right here and now. We had met on the yoga retreat and reunited in the city due to an affinity for whole wheat croissants, and the shared human sensation of knowing someone in one location and reconnecting with them later on in a new place.

Like many others on a mission to trot around the world, we wanted to hold onto the travel high forever, and we wondered at our abilities to do this long-term—physically, emotionally, and financially. It seemed like we both had an inkling that, at some point or another, we'd wind up back home in the states with some time to kill before the next adventure. And, contemplative as we are, we knew that the truly awakened are able to find satisfaction anywhere on earth, doing anything that might be required of them.

It's easy to keep an enlightened perspective when all you have to do is attend led yoga sessions, scribble down a daily journal entry, and maybe book a <$10 hostel for the next few nights. I was pondering ways that I could bring this feeling with me back home. What did I most want to take away from this experience that would bring me joy in the (likely) less eventful days to come? I loved the freedom of being in Chiang Mai for an extended duration, so that I could take my time and wander without a set destination. I'd walk or bike ride for hours, and stumble upon green patios and smoothie bowl cafes where I could sit and read a book or jot down thoughts, like these...

Thailand Takeaways:

1. The non-routine
2. Patio gardens
3. Backyard gardens
4. Anywhere gardens
5. After dinner walks
6. Motorbikes (?)
7. Coconut everything
8. Friends everywhere
9. Knowing your neighbors
10. Saying yes

Oh, and I also took away a little tattoo.

Elephant Endeavors

If you've ever heard of Thailand and, more specifically, Chiang Mai, you've probably been made aware that one of the main tourist attractions is the opportunity to come into contact with some of Earth's most precious and holy creatures-- elephants. Among the people I talked to before venturing here, it was a highly controversial topic. Some said definitely go see the elephants because it was the best experience of life. Others said definitely do not go anywhere with elephants because they are all tortured and treated inhumanely.

All objections aside, like most tepid-hearted Americans coming to Asia for the first time, I pretty much knew that if I could find a semi-decent place where they didn't slash or prod the animals, I was going to see some elephants on this trip. I followed my friend Warren's recommendation, read as many elephant treatment reviews as I could, and set off for a day of close contact with trunk-wielding tree trimmers. I chose Into the Wild Elephant Camp, instead of the more popular and well-regarded Elephant Nature Park because I hoped for a more intimate, less crowded visit.

And it really was an unbelievable experience, and even more so because there were only 3 of us visiting 5 elephants that day. We hiked with them, bathed with them, and sort of ate lunch with them while they smartly tried to steal food from our table. I'd never touched one before, so spending hours next to them as they gracefully lumbered through the woods and covering them with mud to provide necessary sun protection offered a ton of new soul-satisfying observations.

I hope the elephants are always treated as well as I saw during the visit. Our guides seemed to genuinely care about them, and there were no bullhooks or riding baskets in sight. The elephants seemed to genuinely not care about anything other than eating, an act that they engaged in for almost all of the 5 hours we were with them. Apparently indifferent to our presence, they did, at points, threaten to chop our heads off with their superior lumberjack skills. I could certainly see why Thai Buddhists worship the elephant god, Ganesha, as the remover of obstacles. 

Surrendering to Life: Pai Edition

I set off on this journey with the intention of leaving many details unplanned. I expected to meet people in the second week of my travels, during the yoga portion, and wanted to leave room for spontaneous adventure. However, as the flight to Thailand crept closer, my anxious planning instincts started to take the reigns. Just to be safe, I set up a hostel for a few nights after the retreat, and scheduled another one in Pai (a nature-heavy, hippie town that had been highly recommended) for later in the week. My desires for impromptu backpacking gave way to my usual urge to control what comes next.

On Sunday, the last day of the retreat, our group was scheduled to practice together in the morning, and then be dropped off back in the city around noon. I was ready for some chill solo time, and my clothes were begging to be laundered. But I soon found out that the universe was chuckling at all my advanced planning and thinking that I knew what was good for me. My new Aussie friend, Amanda, also wanted to visit Pai, but her flight was leaving on Tuesday. Could we go that day? I was reluctant. My chill time! My laundry! We wouldn't get there until 7pm and would leave to come back not 24 hours later. 

Before I knew it, we were ditching our bags (at the pre-booked hostel) and riding a red truck to the bus station. The stars must have aligned since we were permitted onto the 3 o'clock bus, despite having shown up at the booking desk at 2:58. In accordance with online and word of mouth warnings, the road to Pai was rough and winding, but we made it unscathed. We sat down at a cafe to book a hostel for the night, and were amused to find out later that our room was actually a $4 sectional family tent on what looked like a riverside thatched hut commune. PaiZen River Jam Hostel was the place for us. 

We spent the night out making traveler friends, trying to spend as long as we could in the warmth of bars and fellow nomads. But sleeping outside felt good to us (mats and fleece blankets helped), and the river provided a zen spot to further our morning meditation habits. The next day, we conquered my fears of driving a scooter. We saw canyons and waterfalls and ate at the most amazing restaurant I've ever eaten at in my life. If you are ever in Pai, please eat most, if not all, of your meals at Earth Tone so I can relive it through you!

As predicted, we didn't want to leave after only a day, but the last bus was heading out at 5pm, and our scooter skills weren't quite up to the 3-4 hour ride back under the light of the moon. Although it was short, this trip presented me with some of the joys of last-minute planning. If I'd gone to Pai on my own, I would've had more time there and probably a slower-paced visit, but I wouldn't have had the courage to rent a motorbike or the confidence to cruise through the countryside with a friend! I might have seen the river running through the town, but my scheduled hostel was no more than a bed in a dorm on the main shopping street. I would have missed the canyons, waterfalls, and most of the natural beauty that Pai has to offer.

Once again, I'm reminded that the most exciting plans often come from letting go and seeing where the circumstances take you. So thank you to Amanda for helping me surrender to life and taking this trip with me. I wouldn't have had it any other way!

What to Do on a Yoga Retreat

I'll bet there are a lot of yoga retreats that lead you to inner peace through sitting in silence and fasting, but I'm feeling almost as peaceful after making new friends and filling my belly with delicious vegan passionfruit cheesecake.

Here's what you should do on a yoga retreat, but be warned that this guidance is really only applicable for a yoga retreat in Northern Thailand which happens to be the one that I just went on.

1. Do some yoga. Pretty self-explanatory here. I didn't take many pictures of myself actually doing yoga because I was so centered and immersed, but here's a picture of that cheesecake:

2. Learn to cook. I recommend Thai green curry, Thai red curry, Thai yellow curry, or any color curry that combines delicious spices with coconut milk and some vegetables. Include many desserts, especially the delightful aforementioned cheesecake. Summon your strength and don't quit the cooking class before the mango sticky rice portion!

3. Learn other stuff, too. Usually when you gather a group of passionate people together, you'll find that most of them have interesting things to share. It was a blessing to find time to learn a bit of Kundalini yoga from our roommate, Sam, and to partake in a mind-bending Yin class with anatomy master, Antonio. Learn as much as you can whenever you have the chance!

4. Relax in new ways. If sunning, swimming, yoga, and meditation aren't enough for you, throw in a few Thai massages, an herbal sauna, and some hot springs on top of it all. We also spent a day at a floating retreat called Om Waters which is an incredibly magical place that is existing out here in the world.

5. Visit temples high and low. This is Thailand, so there are temples on mountains, in caves, and almost anywhere you look on regular old solid ground. I'll never forget sitting around our satsung circle beneath a shining golden Buddha statue watching the sun set and wondering how I got so lucky as to wind up here.

Why I Came to Thailand, Pt. 2

Before embarking on this trip, it was hard for me to answer when my friends and family asked why I was coming to Thailand for a yoga retreat. There were many reasons that I was unable to briefly summarize into a single response. I'd never been to Asia before. I felt called here because of my prior connection with Echo. I had seen friends traveling to Thailand and Bali (and posting photos of jungles and monkeys), and I was envious of their escapades. I wanted to be around people who were living creative, non-conventional lives and learn from them. But mostly, I thought, I liked practicing yoga, and Thailand seemed like an interesting location in which to do it.

On the first night of the retreat, we meditated together, and then took a moment to write down our intentions for the remainder of our time together. Why did I come here? What was I hoping to get out of this? I thought my answer would be a little more hands-off. Yoga and Thailand. Yoga in Thailand. Did I really need to say more? Throughout my journey, I've done this kind of thing many times—set intentions for the practice, notice how my body folds into various shapes, share meditative experiences with strangers and see how in a day they become close friends. Even when people cry or reveal hopelessly frustrated dark nights of the soul, I'm not surprised because my mind has been there, too. When it comes to journaling and holding hands in circles, I'm an old pro.

But on that first night of focus, preparing for a week of what I hoped would provide clarity and a light on the path to bliss, my mind's eye revealed something more. I always like to pretend that I'm an expert at things, exceedingly nervous to show flaws in whatever I'm meant to be knowledgable about. Yoga, meditation, travel—no big deal for me! I'm a teacher! I've been to 30 countries! However, during meditation that night, after a week of flying over countries and oceans, carrying heavy backpacks, and taking in so much of the external world, it felt so welcoming to return to my mat. Even though I was a full twelve hours time difference from where I normally live, I was grounded. I was home.

As I sat there trying to settle on an intention or a reason to write on my little slip of paper, I could finally see the childlike part of me that was kneeling in the presence of these timeless teachings, patiently and earnestly hoping to see and learn. I didn't need to try to sound cool, experienced, or knowledgeable with a load of classes, workshops, and explorations under my belt. I'm here because there's so much that I haven't seen and so much that I don't know. I saw clearly the innocence in me of someone who never feels like an expert, who has found that the road to self-discovery is as challenging as it is rewarding. My intention in that moment, which remains with me as I write this now, is to hold onto that vision of myself, and to recognize it in everyone around me. I want to realize the unblemished wonder with which we are all encountering this world, and look past any disguises, fancy language, or walls that get in the way. And then, of course, to see some monkeys, too.

Namaste.

Why I Came to Thailand, Pt. 1

I met Echo for the first time about two years ago in Austin. I had been going through a rough week, filled with tears and uncertainty. I was unhappy in my job and experiencing some unexpected turbulence in my romantic relationship. In spite of the sizable lump in my throat that made me want to stay home and avoid talking to anyone, I kept doing the one thing that I knew would remain constant through the hard-hitting emotional crises and pains that inevitably come with growing up; I went to yoga class.

I waited at the door of Sukha Yoga, and Echo showed up right on time. The only problem was that she had forgotten her keys and wasn't sure if we'd be able to get into the studio for class. I didn't mind. I was happy to have found some people who would've practiced in a parking lot, and who didn't have any idea what was happening in my personal life. Even just sitting on the stoop outside the studio in good company beat crying alone in my car. But, as luck would have it, Echo's partner was able to drop off the keys, and we went inside to flow. Like always, being on my mat helped me set aside my perceived difficulties so I could feel into my body and, yeah, throw down a few handstands to alter my perspective. I felt a connection with the strength and style of Echo's teaching, and I think I ended up attending almost all of her classes over the next few weeks before she left on a journey to Japan.

Flash forward two years into the future, and here I am in Thailand on a yoga retreat with the same teacher. Since we met, Echo has been living in Japan, New Zealand, Greece, and “nowhere” as she backpacks nomadically around this part of the world. It's been a treat to learn from her independent, take charge attitude—she's a global adventurer who seems prepared to take on any challenge. I carry all my teachers with me on this path, but it's been nice get to know one a little better and benefit the glow from her fiery spirit. As for me, I've kept on this long walk toward truth, and I'm certified to call myself a teacher now, too. The uncertainty and turbulence haven't changed all that much, but the girl experiencing it all sure has.

This year, Echo has started leading retreats and participating in teacher trainings around the world. I'm happy that she joined forces with Cole Chance for ours. Cole is a dreamy yoga instructor, Thai massage master, ecstatic dance enthusiast, and general positive vibe exuding being. I'm grateful that even though I never had the chance to meet her during our mutual Austin residences, I somehow ended up with her on the other side of the world. If you're looking for a yoga retreat that includes both meditation and exploration, check out both of these ladies as they plan more offerings near and far: echoflowyoga.com | colechanceyoga.com.

Namaste.

Awakening Ananda

There have been so many times this week that I had to pinch myself to make sure I'm really here on the other side of the world, sleeping near the foothills of these glorious green mountains. I certainly never got tired of the morning walk past the two water buffalo grazing in the rice paddy fields on our way out to the outdoor yoga space. Or the saltwater pool with its peacefully trickling waterfall. Or our Shire-style mala room with an outdoor shower and a portal door connecting us four smiling roommates. Or the fresh coconuts, mangoes, and multicolored dragonfruits. But I digress...

I feel so thankful to have had the time and the means to be here on this trip. The Mala Dhara Eco-Resort provided a perfect background (and beyond delicious organic vegetarian meals) for our days spent working on powerful inner and outer shifts. I met likeminded people of many different ages and nationalities, all eager to share their stories and offer advice to help develop my own. We're all breaking down conditioned thought patterns with the goal of staying on a path toward blissful existence in our hearts and our communities. I'll share the in's and out's of retreating and the places we visited soon, but for now, I'm just saying thank you to everyone I found here, and who found me, and to the universe for bringing all of this into alignment.

Kob khun kha!

Temples in Thailand

I'm laughing to myself for coming to Chiang Mai, Thailand thinking I would come across maybe 2-3 temples if I went out searching for them.

If you've ever been to Chiang Mai, you will know that that is a very silly thought because there are actually hundreds of Buddhist temples in and around the city, and it would probably be impossible to see only 2 or 3 while spending a few days here.

My first hostel had free bicycles for borrowing, so I must have visited at least one hundred sites on the very first day. If you're not about bike riding, you should become about it because it's really one of the most wonderful ways to get to know a city.

I'm glad to have packed my zip-off shorts-to-pants and a shawl because you never know when you're going to need to be appropriately dressed for places of worship. And I took this picture of the Buddha, even though you're not really supposed to take pictures of the Buddha, because look at this incredible gigantic statue at the top of a mountain!

Singaporean Strolls

If you're looking for somewhere very clean, very efficient, and where nothing ever goes wrong because all preventative measures have been taken to ensure that nothing can ever go wrong, Singapore may be the place for you. It's an other-worldly city, nicer than any I've ever visited. It sort of makes you afraid to touch anything or mess anything up for fear of receiving a $500 fine or a public caning, but I didn't see anyone being fined or caned so it wasn't very scary walking around sightseeing and enjoying the cuisine in designated eating spaces.

This is a melting pot for sure, and I ended up spending most of my time in Chinatown and Little India before exploring any Singaporean culture. It's hard to pass up $3 meals in the Chinese food stalls, but you can find similarly priced delicacies from local hawker stands. After just a day, you may find yourself pointing and gesturing for mysterious ingredients, knowing you'll end up with phenomenal results. 

There's so much to see and do that I'm not sure three days was enough for fully uncovering this gem of a city. Fortunately, the public transportation system and flawless and will take you nearly everywhere you need to go. Unfortunately, the hostels and the people working in them are so nice that you might not ever want to leave. I'm glad I have a mini stopover on my way back to try more.

On Being an Independent Female Traveler

It's a Thursday evening in October, I'm typing on a laptop, and I'm drinking my second coffee of the day which, if history is any indication, will deliver enough caffeine to create a combination of stretching my eyeballs very wide in their sockets and making my body want to expel out of its skin.

All of this is happening on a plane upon which I am traveling alone. I'll be just as high in the air and alone again on Monday, on Tuesday, next Saturday, two weeks after that, and again at least three times in November when I make my way back to where I started. I don't know the exact number of times I have traveled by myself in my life, but it is somewhere between a lot and very many, and enough to cause certain people to make remarks. Such people refer to the act of being a woman and traveling on her own as brave, courageous, and/or bold. Some have even been so forward as to label me an Independent Female Traveler, an impressive title which I can only timidly inhabit and continue to try to live up to.

I actually don't consider myself to be very brave, courageous, or bold when it comes to getting on popular international airlines and visiting areas to which I know many other women have gone before. It simply tends to happen often because I live in a different place now from the one in which I was raised. And because my mom lives in two other altogether different places from that original one where my parents raised me. And because most of my friends from the places I have lived previously do not live in the one where I live now. And also because I'm not married or in any formal way attached to any traveling partners.

I remember the first time it happened. I was sixteen and on my way to attend a high-performance volleyball camp in North Carolina, which was an experience that made me feel not very high-performance at all since most of the other sixteen year olds there towered over 6-feet and had already been signed on as juniors to play at the university level no less than two years later. No one had yet thought of asking me to do anything two years in the future, and to this day still no one has. I don't remember any of the details of that flight, which maybe serves to show you how many unremarkable solo flying experiences have occurred for me since then. All of them happen in this way: you just take some sort of transportation to the airport, or if you have kind friends sometimes one of them will drive you, and then there is some waiting and perhaps drinking and/or snacking, then more waiting, and then you're in a seat in the air flying towards your goal, which could be visiting another one of these kind friends or maybe a family member or simply some new surroundings that you've been longing to see. And if you do all of this and happen to have identifying womanly features, you too might be labelled an Independent Female Traveler (IFT).

However, after some consideration, I have surmised that these rudimentary drive/wait/fly/wait/drive again steps are not all that needs to be done to earn the title. For example, the woman seated in the same row as me is traveling alone as well, but I would argue that it cannot be said that she is traveling independently. I think the difference between us can best be explained by providing a comparative description of our traveling styles.

But before getting into it, let me interject that she has been more than generous to me by first offering a stick of gum for myself plus an extra piece for the “cute guy sitting across the aisle from me” who is, in fact, very cute, but who will not be receiving this offering since I am not in the habit of chatting up dudes on planes and since any follow-up conversation might severely decrease the joys of traveling solo which include peaceful solitude and doing productive activities. Secondly, she has said that, if I get a cup with ice, I can enjoy the rest of her Coke. And thirdly, she has gotten two bags of chips (Popcorners and the Terra sweet potato kind) to allow me to try a variety of snacks on this three and a half hour flight, a gesture which I appreciate because for some reason the JetBlue snack baskets this evening are full of kettle corn so I accidentally grabbed one of those and am of the opinion that kettle corn is one of the absolute worst flavors of popcorn chips, second only to barbecue.

Niceties aside, I will admit that it was with a slight bit of dismay that I approached my seat and found this particular person in the spot next to me due to the fact that I had already experienced a separate encounter with her earlier in the airport bathroom. After stopping outside the ladies' room to fill my water bottle and then turning inside to search for an empty stall, I heard someone behind me calling out “Miss” over and over again. After confirming that the hollering was directed at me, and thinking that I had dropped something, I turned around to discover that she was wondering where I had filled up my water bottle and if they had any water available in the airport. Since I was feeling very understanding and working toward conjuring only positive thoughts about others in order to bring blessed fortune upon myself, I repressed a sizable eye roll and considered that perhaps this person does not travel very often because in almost all airports that I've visited, they do indeed have water fountains and these oases are nearly always located directly outside the restroom. So later when I found her seated next to me on the plane I thought, oh, here is the familiar face of someone who perhaps is unaccustomed to airline travel. Since that moment of discovery, our relationship has progressed in ways that I generally prefer relationships not to progress with strangers sitting next to me in public places. In our short time together, she has asked me to help her set her phone to airplane mode, direct her back to her music collection, turn on the volume of her in-flight entertainment, flag down the flight attendant to figure out said entertainment, and translate said flight attendant's non-New York accent when he patiently explained that the entertainment was not working for anyone on board right now after she exasperatedly exclaimed that “NOTHING WORKS FOR (her)!” on this flight. I have continued to hear grumpy oh-my-graciouses coming from her direction although I have since applied my headphones with iTunes at a hefty volume. I am expressing my own silent gratitude at having been able to manifest an empty aisle seat next to me which allowed me to move out of the middle and into it. A little space can work wonders in many of life's trying situations.

From this example I have gained the slightest bit of elitism at the IFT title since not all who are female and traveling on their own can fully fit into its definition. So, I assume it is because I tend to disengage with the world around me and avoid talking to others or asking questions in airports and would simply not consider pressing the call button on a plane for anything except a) being projectile vomited upon or b) facing imminent demise, that I have laid more claim to the haughty label of Independent Female Traveler. Brave. Courageous. Bold. It's really none of these things and more just something that you do if you a) enjoy traveling and b) don't have anyone to go with you because they either have real jobs or don't enjoy traveling or you believe they wouldn't be into your top hobbies of most of the time walking aimlessly and the rest of the time being lost and trying to figure out where you are.

All points considered, I do not even consider myself to be one of the most independent of the IFT's I know. I have participated in many guided group tours and retreats, which subtly provide a comfortable travel setting to give you the feel of being alone while actually being safely surrounded by a group. When I'm really on my own out in the world, I usually stay at very westernized hostels where I am sure to meet other English speakers and find reminders of safety and home. Compared to friends who have been on solo road trips or year-long backpacking adventures, I am a watered down version of a strong woman blazing a trail for other ladies and future ladies of the millennium. I am an amateur IFT on a trail that's been blazed for me, but an IFT nonetheless. I guess fitting in with the title comes down to a trust thing—you accept that you can only prepare so much and then you sort of trust yourself to make the right decisions within the universe's boundaries and then trust the universe to unfold the rest.

How to Pack for a Month in Asia

Really, this should be titled: How to Pack for a Month in Asia (after a wedding weekend in autumnal New York, along with another stint in wintry New York, plus also preparing your apartment for two months of subletting). And, actually, this is more of a cry for help than a list of recommendations!

1. Lay out some things

I like to display all the items I might possibly need and then narrow it down from there. This helps me visualize where everything is going to fit and lets me know if I have crazy expectations. 

2. Don't forget your dress!

This is only valid if you're a bridesmaid, but hang your dress in a place where you won't forget it.

3. Watch the live action Beauty and the Beast on Netflix

Take a break. Why not?

4. Narrow down the things

Make enough space for souvenirs and the many, many pairs of shoes that you will definitely need at all times during your journey.

5. Don't forget your dress!

Move the dress to a place where you can actually see it, and bring the shoes along with it. 

6. Pack the things

Self-explanatory. I like to perform a rolling method since my clothes are mostly yoga pants and partially yoga shirts. Fill all the extra spaces with underwear so at least your underclothes will be clean when everything else is dirty.

7. Bring a passport

And a wallet. And a phone. And don't forget your dress!

Unique New York

I'm always proud to call New York my original home, and I can deliver some pretty haughty side-eyes when people assume I'm from Delaware or New Jersey. The Empire State was a wonderful area to sprout roots, learn, and grow. And now every visit leaves my heart feeling full and a little nostalgic.

Here are some photos from my recent visit to the Hudson Valley, including a yoga dad on his birthday and some meditative romps through the Chapel of Sacred Mirrors. Enjoy!

Home Stretch

It's kind of weird when your mom sells your childhood house and you don't know where to call home anymore, but if she decides to live half of the year on Long Beach Island and the other half in Savannah, GA, you learn to adjust pretty quickly.

It was nice to close out August by visiting a few of my eastern homes. Every year since I moved to Austin, I've had the good fortune to be able to visit the New York/New Jersey area for at least a week at a time. I'm back in Texas now, feeling fortunate to have seen so many wonderful friends and family members.

Let's do what we can to stretch this summer as far as it will go!

How to Pack for a Budget Airline

1. Get one of these:

If you think you need more than this, you don't! Resist your consumer lifestyle urges to pay extra for a carry-on or a checked bag. You chose this airline for a reason! Stuff your backpack to its brim, and bring a clutch for phone, wallet, and boarding pass-type essentials. Or, if you're a menswear wearing person, make the most of your large pocketed jeans and shorts. Maybe throw in a chapstick, if you're going to Denver.

2. Pick two to three bottoms only.

There is some strange, unwritten observance that, whenever we travel, we imagine we'll suddenly start wearing all of the outfits that have been hanging in our closets at home for months. In normal life, do you wear the same pair of jeans many times in a row without washing them? Bring those jeans! Why do we think that when we travel we are going to become miraculously cleaner, fresher versions of ourselves? Unless you're rolling in mud or are a very sweaty sweating machine, you can wear something more than once. Your friends are used to seeing you in the same five outfits, mix 'em, match 'em, and save your space.

3. Choose your shoes.

The heaviest ones go on your feet. If it's summer, pack sandals. If you need sneakers, get some flat folding ones like these. Let your footwear be comfortable and your walks will be plentiful.

4. Have a Kindle. 

Budget flying leaves not much room for books. Reading apps can fit hundreds of them. Choose your battles.

5. Only laptop if you really, REALLY need to.

You are escaping! Stop working! Save your computer activities for low-level days like Monday :( or Tuesday :/. A tiny personal item restriction is a great excuse to be freely traveling without your ties. If you really need it, your phone does many of the same things in a more portable way. If you're traveling a budget airline for a work trip, find a better job.

6. Unlimited underwear.

Have small underwear that can squeeze in any extra space. Remember what I said about sink-washed underwear before, and give yourself this simple luxury.

7. Respect the limits of Ziploc bags.

I don't know the point of toiletry bags other than making me look very put-together and grown up. Many of us are not those things on a regular day, so why choose now to pretend? You'll need the baggie for security, anyway, so fit your toiletries in one and call it a day.

7. Go somewhere cool.

So that you care more about what you're heading towards than what you're bringing with you. Try Colorado. They have a lot of good looking sights to see.

8. Bring some friends.

Maybe they'll share the stuff that you couldn't fit! Remember that all you really need is the unmatched license/passport, credit card, phone combination, and head on your way.

*Note: This process has served me well for 3 to 4, maybe 5-day trips if it's beach weather. If you are budget flying for longer, I respect you and await your tips for the packing.

Lands of Enchantment

If you're a person who thinks ticket prices make it too costly to travel, try buying this $60 tent, packing up your car, and driving over to the next state. You just might find yourself in another world.

Sometimes you can camp for $10. Sometimes you can camp for free. Sometimes it will be too windy to camp and you'll get to sleep in your car, which could have been free, if you hadn't already reserved a campsite.

However you choose to sleep in the great outdoors, get out there! There's a lot to see. 

On Retreat

Lainie's getting married, so we dropped everything and flew over to Denver. After the initial cold and snowy shock to my system, the weekend was otherwise magical. We celebrated a beautiful being and looked pretty good doing so.

Enjoying an adventurous getaway with such fun, positive, lovely women had me wondering why we only rarely find the time to come together like this. What makes us wait until once-in-a-lifetime events happen to gather wonderful groups of ladies (or gentlemen) together?

Let's do it more often.

40 Hours

If you're going to drive from Texas to Georgia, you'd better make sure you've got some entertaining traveling companions on the road and an amazing hostess of a mom waiting for you when you get there. Lucky for me, I was blessed with both, so I was miraculously able to survive the longest car trip of my life. Waking up for school on Tuesday morning was a bit grueling, but enjoying a Spring weekend in Savannah is always worth any amount of hours spent traveling.

A stopover in New Orleans more than satisfied our party requirements for the trip. Apparently the bars never close there? And the next few days in Savannah brought us back to nature. We trapped a snake, viewed alligators from afar, and watched dolphins swim in the sea.

It's hard to beat the beauty of Spanish moss, southern hospitality, and fried chicken paired with mac and cheese. I'm so glad my mom has chosen to make a little home down here.

Chapel Hill

One positive part of growing up is that you might have more friends scattered about in more appealing places, so you can stretch your roaming limits (and budget) further than your younger network may have allowed. My friend Matt is the best kind of faraway friend who will even offer to sleep on the couch and give up their bed to let you rest your weary traveling bones. A gigantic thank you to him for taking me to all of the breweries, wood-fired pizzerias, and string-lit bars that are making Raleigh-Durham the next Austin/Denver/Brooklyn/Place for people who like food trucks and Snapchat. I didn't mind it one bit.

Being in Chapel Hill during spring break offered a time of reflection for me. Back when 16 year old Cori was checking out schools and planning her future, baby blue t-shirts and tar-covered heels were expected to be a major part of it. I did all of the AP-ing and SAT-ing asked of me. I went to their volleyball camp. I bought a lot of blue clothing items. I learned to appreciate vinegar barbecue. But still when the decision mail came, my envelope was disappointingly skinny instead of invitingly thick.

I was devastated and confused. I cried in my room a lot and quickly formulated plans to move in with my uncle so I could apply again as an NC resident. I'm pretty sure my best friend and I forged notes from our parents to skip Chemistry class and eat waffles, because we did that a lot anyway and because there is still nothing like waffles to heal a broken teenage heart. I think I only chose to go to Delaware later on because it had flowers and brick buildings and vaguely resembled UNC.

It was a long while before my focus started to shift. During Fall semester of sophomore year, I remember gathering my printed transfer applications, ready to be filled-in and sent off in the Spring. I was so sure that I knew where I was going and that there had to have been some strange mistake. It took a few years, a trip to Argentina, and a lot of new friends to convince me otherwise. I never ended up sending those transfer applications and I stayed at Delaware for two extra years. Now I only think about Chapel Hill once a year, in March, when I become a short-term college basketball fan.

Walking around the campus during my visit with Matt reminded me the importance of letting go when my thinking mind is so certain that it knows what's best for me. I realize how much we might miss if we try to squeeze our lives into the perfect plans that we've doubtlessly determined for them. Looking back, I can't imagine my path having gone any other way than it has. If I had transferred to North Carolina, I probably never would have met so many of my best friends, checked as many study abroad countries off my list, or become the mostly well-rounded person I am now. Or maybe by some universal magic I would have ended up as the same me in exactly the same place, but I definitely don't think I would have gotten to shake former Vice President Joe Biden's hand.

So I'm sending love to you, hoping you can always find the very, very good no matter how unexpectedly your path seems to be twisting. I believe it's all working itself out.