4

Today I drove back to school.

Now a story: when in Ocean City I went to NYC a few times. One of the trips we went boating in Central Park and ran into friends, oddly, at the shake shack. Classic tourism.

On our way back from the city all six of our phones died and we didn’t know how to get back. So naturally we stopped at the sketchiest gas station in the middle of nowhere. A large scary man in the only suburban in front of us volunteered to take us back to a highway. We said yes but then made sure to get as far away from him as possible.

Moral of the story: when going to nyc for one day only, put your phone on airplane mode if you’re taking photos. Then you won’t get lost in the middle of nowhere.

This song brings all those memories back. “It’s like a piano doing hurdles.”

3

Last day home ever for a break. Weird.

I know I’m not supposed to think ahead for stories, so I didn’t. Although these shorter day posts make me tempted to. For example, right now, all I can do is think of is a massive pile of places instead of specific stories.

Oh! In seventh grade my family went to the Grand Canyon and rented an RV. it was a blast. We stayed in Sedona for a bit too. My mind is blank.

2

Sitting by a fire and planning on making some sort of delicious food with Anna’s cilantro.

Wow most of my travel stories involve Anna. When we were freshmen we drove to Washington DC with some other friends. It was snowing like crazy when we were driving through the night and we got lost in Accident, Maryland ironically. I also remember wandering through the business district of DC and randomly finding a delicious seafood restaurant. Funny how that’s the only thing that comes to mind.

1

Celebrating a friends engagement is a great way to start the new year.

Once upon a time we went to Nashville for Anna’s 21st and showed up at a fancy hotel with window paint on our car and felt silly when the valet tried to open all the doors for us.

31

LAST DAY OF THE YEAR!

From Colorado to Tennessee to North Carolina to Texas to Tennessee again, ’twas a good year for travels. I guess I could even include working for a travel startup in there (shoutout to Roadtrippers).

And yet so many places I’d still like to go. The best of all things I’ve learned from traveling are:

It’s more about who you’re with.
It should never be the end all or be all.
It makes home so much better.

Sitting on the edge of this year and next (along with the most amount of time for writing) is making me very reflective. Which is also hilarious because there’s nothing worse than having to write a reflection paper in school.

I once had a teacher who said the purpose of breaks was not to finally collapse and be extremely grateful to have nothing to do. It’s actually to look back on the past semester and think about what you’ve learned and how you can take that moving forward. It seems I’ve taken all of college to figure that out. I suppose that’s the purpose of learning though. Being patient with myself is always the most difficult part of learning.

Sitting next to Daniel while he’s watching 300 is distracting me from this state of mind. Pressing on.

On a personal note, this past year has been filled with some of the happiest and saddest moments of my life. If, on a micro scale, it’s any indicator of one of my greatest hopes of life I know life will be fulfilling. At the end of my life, I hope to gain as much perspective as I possibly can, including the sorrowful depths of poverty and the sorrowful heights of wealth. I know that joy can also be found on either end.

One thing I know for sure: I never ever wish for a complacent, flat lined life where nothing brings intense excitement or nothing warms a calloused heart. It could be safe but it’s definitely not the fulfillment or richness of intended true living. Every year from here on out I can’t wait for my comfort zone to continually be stretched. Hopefully my life will crescendo in terms of boldness, wisdom, love, gratitude, service, discipline, faithfulness, and all that other good stuff.

Actually, I hope that for every single person in my life.

30

Success! Hotdogs at midnight, dangerously playing spoons in a small area and the brightest stars of all time. Fast forward through a small breakfast at the only local diner (with an oddly extensive fried menu) and we returned home not realizing how badly we smelled.

A lovely memory of a beautiful place I wouldn’t mind living: my junior year I way overcommitted myself causing that ridiculous amount of stress all Miami students sometimes unnecessarily put themselves through. (Seriously, why do we think we’re more important or doing more meaningful work when we’re more stressed?) It was a fall weekend and I wanted to pick somewhere far far away. Naturally Denver seemed like a good option. So I flew out to visit two of my favorite seniors when I was a freshman. They lived in the coziest little home outside the city. We went on a gorgeous hike in the mountains at Kenosha Pass. I remember being so filled with bliss that it eclipsed any stress I felt. I’ve noticed a trend that’s as sure as a mathematical formula in my life:

stress of Erica + getting out of Oxford = healthy perspective

And I forgot to set a timer so I’m just calling it quits now.

29

Day two of cabin life with no running water and 11 people crammed inside. Today was the day of the hike. Not quite like the sierra’s hike uncle Bern and chase did in the fall, but the 6-11 miles were fun (depending on if you consult Kevin’s fitbit or realize that there’s no possible way you can do an 11 mile hike in four and half hours. Unless of course you’re Laura and I trying to do a simple four mile waterfall hike, take a wrong turn and end up going 11 miles. That was last summer though).

For some reason this story just came to mind. When we were in Berlin on a freezing winter night we decided to go find somewhere to go out. After hopping on a train, walking (more like slipping) down the sidewalk and ducking under an underpass, we found ourselves in a wide back alley filled with graffiti, muffled loud music and random strobe lights. After walking a bit we ducked into a smaller, slightly unmarked door. Once walking in we were greeted by a guy who looked like he just stepped out of the ’20s. Of course he did. The whole bar was speakeasy-themed. We actually felt out of place wearing normal clothes. The best part was the Ukrainian folk band that played later that night. Hands down the most fun, strange thing I’ve experienced at a bar. But time is running out so I’ll link to when I wrote about it a while ago.

28

A steelers victory! Sorry Cincinnati…

Spending a few days at Pops’ cabin with cousins is the best possible way to spend the last few days of 2014.

Speaking of cousins, the best of all travel memories involves them. Every year since I was born all the families have gone to either the beach in Maryland, Delaware or (mainly) the Outer Banks in North Carolina. It was always the week I looked forward to the entire year. When Stephen was younger he used to make a paper chain and pack his bag at least a month ahead of time.

Riding our bikes to the beach and on no particular time schedule besides when we eat dinner equaled the best of summer. Arron and Joel always dug nearly six foot holes. The uncles usually rent a kayak and sometimes if we’re lucky we get to paddle out to the dolphins. The tastiest nights are the seafood bakes. Steamed clams, soft shell crabs, scallops, shrimp, baked fish and probably some other types of random fish (shark? swordfish?) always lined the bar and were gone as soon as they were put out.

People always stayed up late into the night playing euchre. Cards are not taken lightly in our family, which some of my friends have come to know. There are no, “Aww it’s okay we can just start over” or “don’t worry about it!” phrases. Actually the most common thing everyone says is, “A card laid is a card played.” It’s safe to say it can be a bit intimidating to try to learn a new game.

27

Need. More. Stories.

They’re in there but sometimes take a while to fish for. Something about a timer going makes my mind go blank. So what’s the best motivator for productivity? Not sure. A timer is still the best there is.

Mmmm one of the best smells is when someone comes inside during the winter and smells like December.

Currently laying on the floor using a snowman as a pillow desperately trying to think of a travel story. There are trips I remember taking but don’t remember any of the details of them. For example, Fort Lauderdale my sophomore year of high school. All I really remember is being there.

And that was the perfect memory jog I needed. Here we go.

Christmas break after my freshman year of college we went to one of the hokiest named beach towns in Florida: Treasure Island. The way our family travels cracks me up. We almost always start at different locations and miraculously end up where we need to be. At one point on this trip I was in Cincinnati, Joel was in Cleveland, dad and the boys were in Pittsburgh and mom was in Charlotte. I’m pretty sure I lost because I got there last.

That was the first time I’ve ever spent my birthday at the beach. My family sang happy birthday in a seafood restaurant and we ate key lime pie. Who invented singing happy birthday? It’s the most uncomfortable experience of the year.

Another vague memory from that trip was how Instagram was just starting to get popular.

While we were there we also went to St. Petersburg and climbed banyon trees. In case you don’t know what those are, picture 10 trees smashed into one mixed with swinging vines and resembling a weeping willow. That’s how I remember them.

Currently remembering another trip when some friends and I went climbing at Red River Gorge sophomore year. Waking up before the sun and drinking coffee the whole three hour drive in the fall down to Kentucky while blasting the best possible music and hoping we had cool guides = a really happy memory that I’m glad just came to mind.

—

Mom and Daniel have currently reached a stalemate: Daniel snagged the very last piece of the puzzle and is holding it hostage even though mom did most of the work. When two stubborn wills collide the result makes for a great show. Little do they know I’m reporting all of this.

Dad just came back from outside and said he could hear their counter reasoning from outside. Note: this is all in good humor.

“Just put the piece in. I’m losing interest. “-mom
“Good, I’ll just out-wait you. I’ve got time.” -Daniel
*intermission as dad and Daniel are talking cars*
(The lucky last puzzle piece is smugly smiling knowing it got out of being put in)
(Now they’re bringing me into it. “Erica why were you laying on that little snowman!”)
Mom is now leaving.
Just kidding.
“You better put that piece in. I’m gonna come downstairs and keep you awake. All you’re doing is giving Erica fodder for that blog.”-mom
A tickle fight may erupt any moment.
Lucky for Daniel, dad is apathetic about the situation.
Mom’s talking to me now. “My friend told me I sound like a blog because it’s like one big long sentence.”
Okay.
Dad just made a corny joke.
Subject shifting to stephen’s homework.
“Goodnight.”-dad
“This is my stubbornness coming out” -Daniel
It’s like he’s proud of it.
Two minutes left. What’s going to happen. I’m on the edge of my seat. Isn’t our house so exciting?
“Oh no she’s typing still. Click click click. Daniel’s stubbornness held sway.”-mom
“Daniel……” -moms threatening voice.
“If you don’t do it…”
“Is that a threat?”-Daniel

—-
Sorry, that was anticlimactic.

26

Ah, a few days behind. Oh well, can’t stop now!

Story from the 26th: little cousins came, played cards (a staple in our family) and had a delicious dinner.

Hmm, that came out more like a synopsis than a story. Let’s try again shall we?

The day after Christmas is always a funny transition. It usually starts off with us cleaning up all the wrapping paper and figuring out what to do with the funny stocking stuffers mom gives us. Sometimes I get a little sad that Christmas is over but then remember that New Year’s is a week away and get excited again.

One pet peeve of mine that always happens around Christmas time and new year’s is when people say, “since it’s that time of year…” I’ll just leave it at that.

Okay, still wasn’t a story but oh well. Here’s an actual one that I don’t particularly love remembering but think of every time I wear my Pembroke College of Oxford pullover (you’ll see why).

One weekend Anna and I went to England. We started off on a great note. While going through customs at around 11 pm, Anna had left her passport or some important document in a bag we had checked, meaning we couldn’t get it until we got through customs. We prayed our way through the line that the person checking us through would be kind and gracious and let us into the UK. Since Anna had a copy of it (as these details come back I think it actually may have been me who forgot my passport… Sorry Anna), the woman actually let us in. But not until she made us feel like we were completely irresponsible little girls.

“So you two – two girls, alone – have no cash on you?”

“Correct. We planned on exchanging it once we got to where we’re going.”

“And where exactly is that?”

(We had just flown and taken trains for the past 7 hours so we were a bit out of it and couldn’t remember the name of the town where we were staying. After a few moments of mumbling trying to desperately remember we managed to say we were meeting a friend in Buckingham)

“And how do you plan on getting to Buckingham?”

“Well we’re going to take two trains then a taxi.”

“You know that one train you need only has one more trip for the night?”

“…..no we didn’t know that.”

“Okay well you’d better go get it. And think about logistics better next time.”

Welcome to Great Britain.

Regardless, that actually wasn’t the story I was planning on telling. The worst travel day of my entire life happened on our return trip. An important detail would be the weather. Picture the dreariest, sludgy, drizzling, gray sky day. We started the day off at 5 am, freezing. Within ten minutes of waking up I felt like I was going to pass out. After we took the taxi to the first train station, I knew I was really sick. Once we got to the second train about two hours later, it was getting worse. I had the stomach flu. Standing in line for security was agony. As our next two flights were canceled it seemed nothing could get worse. I usually don’t cry in public but I definitely did on the plane. I asked the flight attendant what to do and she was actually very rude to me about how I was feeling.

That didn’t lighten my spirits. We landed in Brussels and I thought I was getting worse. We then had a three hour train ride back to Luxembourg where I don’t really remember anything. Then we waited outside in the snow for about 30 minutes for a bus back to our home. Then we walked uphill ten minutes to our home. It was 11 pm.

I honestly think I would have died if Anna wasn’t with me. I think best friends double as guardian angels. Or at least extra capable humans.