The first of many, many posts

It’s 2016, I’m turning 28 in 2 weeks, and I’m going for the gold. That shiny jewel (I know gold is not a jewel, just go with it) of an idea in my head is me with my backpack, my passport, and this laptop so I can keep you in the loop of my whereabouts and howsabouts as I set off to explore the nooks and crannies of our earth. I don’t want a map because my favorite experiences have been the ones that happen on the fly. Besides, when do plans ever work out?

In December of 2015, I left China, my home for 4.5 years, for Vietnam to attend a friend’s wedding. When my cousin, who was supposed to meet me there, didn’t get her visa, we decided on the spot–she still in the Kunming airport–to meet in Bangkok. Three hours later, I was in Thailand. Because I thought I needed an outbound ticket to get my visa on arrival, I bought a ticket to Cambodia. Four weeks later I was in Cambodia. My friend flew in from Boston to join me for a Tomb Raider journey, and because we were so close to Myanmar already (“When else would we have this opportunity!?!?”), we splurged on a plane ticket and flew off to the land of a thousand (and more) temples. By March, I was summoned to come back to Boston. I was to be a bridesmaid of my childhood friend’s wedding, so yes, I was ready to come back.

This was March of 2016. It’s August now. In these past months, I’ve played with the idea of staying put, settling down, putting down roots as my Chinese family urges with particular urgency since I’m the eldest of my cousins. I applied for jobs, tried to start my own travel company, happily fulfilled my duties as a bridesmaid, RSVPd to more weddings, signed up for Tinder as quickly as I deleted my account, and emptied out a closet in my cousin’s house for my stuff so life could feel a little more permanent. As I was rummaging through piles of junk I’ve hoarded, I found my journal from 2008, written during my time abroad in college.

In the spring semester of sophomore year, I studied abroad in Barcelona. It was a life-changing experience, one that opened up the world to me. As I read through my journal, something stirred in me. At first it was giddy reminiscence, remembering old friends, new boys, fun times. Then it was pensive reflection on how much I haven’t changed, how the things I wanted then are still the things I want now. This suddenly led to furrowing eyebrows and the shiny jewel in my head flashing signs of clarity.

**IF YOU DON’T DO THIS, YOU WILL REGRET IT FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE.** 

“THIS” refers to traveling the world. “THIS” refers to following dreams and making the most out of life. To put this into 21st century terms, I’m suffering from FOMO. If I don’t drop everything (which isn’t much right now–I’m working part time at a doggie daycare) and travel full-time, I fear of missing out on living a full and meaningful life in a world that’s vast and beautiful and so so good. And haven’t we learned from generations before and of course from the movies that living with regret is downright depressing?

I started this blog and even paid for hosting, because I hoped to find a community that could keep me accountable to follow through with my decision to travel, and also because I wanted to find people who understood my unconventional life goals. I’m one whose plans never work out, but this plan to travel the world and doing so on my own, is one that I pray to the gods, cross my fingers and toes, swear on my roommate’s cat’s grave that I will go through with.

After all, YOLO.