It’s been a while since I’ve last written anything, but at long last, I’m planning to take a vagabonding trip from May through October, covering (hypothetically) SE Asia, southern Europe/the Balkans, and parts of Africa. The itinerary and the budget are merely
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I happened to find myself in Chicago over the last week as part of the wedding of one of my oldest and best friends (shout out, Holly), and serendipitously it was the opening weekend of Mulberry Child on PBS across the country (U.S).
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After 8 years away I find myself back in Europe for an opportunity wholly unexpected… That I couldn’t say no to.
I love the romance and unpredictability that the road offers. The whole life it beckons. Sure it’s not always business lounges or coups de champagne, but it’s the whiff of everything new and a different sun just around the next horizon that
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At 17, I made a promise to myself that I would live each day to its fullest. Of course, at 17, it was mostly a fun promise aggregating to partying until 2 a.m., going to swim practice at 7, working my summer
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I arrived in Istanbul in relatively steamy heat. The hot summer sun even at 4:30 seems to penetrate everything. With 4 hours to go prior to my flight to CDG (yes, it’s wonderful to overshoot your destination by more than three hours
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[Originally published in the Huffington Post] In a world of competing priorities, choices like wandering the globe or having a high-flying career seem pit against one-another. Can we proverbially “have it all” or does growing up mean giving up on youthful dreams
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[Originally published in the Huffington Post] Seeing the world can feel like an impossible feat, as it always seems that those who have time don’t have money, and those who have money don’t have time. Particularly in uncertain economic times, the priority
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I woke up this morning, wrapped around in my (lovely) hotel sheets, in a moderate panic. When the sun sets tonight, I will have lived my last day of 27. I’d become familiar with this panic over the past few months—the kind
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When I awake, I instinctively look at the clock. The one that sits overhead is broken. 4:35. It’s perpetually 4:35. I am back in Changchun after three years. I had arrived at the airport after a grueling travel session, spanning 1 ½
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