It's a disease...

There is serious disease out there and it seems as though I'm the latest victim of this little known of affliction.  

Wanderlust.  

Simply put, wanderlust is a strong, innate desire to rove or an ache to travel about.

It's symptoms are similar to a drug addiction, once you've experienced Wanderlust, you can't get enough.  No matter how brief, cheap or small your latest hit was, now that the taste is back on your palette, you must get another fix.  You search for a way to get it.  You fantasize about it, yearn for it, uproot your life for the chance to experience it just one more time.  

Trying to kick your addiction and join the "real world" is almost too much to bear.  The thought of never getting another taste, the realization that all your experiences could now just be part of your past.  

The past tense is one of the scariest realities for a Wanderlust sufferer.  Wanderers spend their lives in the future;  dreaming of the places they going to go, the people that they will meet, the things they may someday experience. 

My lust is too strong.  I have to find a way to wander again.  

Hmmmm...

So, I was just rereading some old posts.  I read the first one I posted on this blog.  It was just about 2 years ago when I came back from Mali.  The first part of that post is as follows:

• No apartment
• No job
• No car
• No plan

Well now, it seems I find myself in a similar situation, only with a few amendments:

• Yes apartment ( rent $)
• No job ( no $)
• Yes car ( insurance $, gas $$$)
• No plan

This seems to be a cyclical situation I keep getting myself into.   Part of me is a little worried about it, but obviously, not that worried or I would have tried to get a new job by now.  My last day of work was May 1st.  

There is a little voice that I keep hearing (which could be part of a much bigger problem!  haha) that keeps saying, "Just hold out a little longer... be patient and a solution will present itself."  So for now.  I'm just waiting.  We'll see how much longer that can last!  

That time of year again...

Another year comes...

... another year goes... 

...and a cupcake goes up in flames! 

27 and 1 to grow on!

Good timing? Good Luck?

Glad I quit my job on a whim and ran off to Dubai!!!

I found out today that THIS happened the day I left for Dubai.  

This was the parking deck at my firm.  I parked in that exact area on the second floor... every single day!  

That was lucky!

This is an apology to the ladies

I am not a romantic.  Not even close.  I never will be.  I officially realized this when I went to see Sex and the City this past weekend. 

I liked the movie.  Just not in the same way as everyone around me.  When the movie was over, it seemed like everyone was wiping the tears from their eyes, including the people I came to see the movie with.  I could hear women talking as we left the theater, about how many times they cried.  Not only could I not figure out what parts of the movie were tear worthy, I didn't find any part of the movie the least bit sad.  It was romantic.  And it makes me cringe. 

Anytime a  bunch of girls are watching Sex and the City there is inevitable talk of 'Which character are you?'  We've all gotten the junk emails and quizzes posing this same question.

There are two answers to that question: either Carrie, the quirky romantic, or Charlotte, the hopeless romantic.  No one ever answers Samantha, cuz let's face it, no one wants to be the whore.  And even less common an answer is Miranda, the frumpy, bitter, anti-relationship, unromantic realist.  I have recently realized, no matter how much I wish I could be a girly girl and want a fairytale ending... I don't.   I'm a Miranda.  

Later this weekend, my  mom and I went and saw another chick flick.  In this one a man gets up and starts to serenade his soon to be bride.  I had to fight the urge to regurgitate my popcorn and try to keep my eyes from rolling into the back of my head as all the other patrons of the movie made a collective, "awwwww" sound.  

The ironic part is that somehow I seem to be a magnet for sappy guys (the most recent one being the only exception)  The poor saps don't know what they're getting themselves into.  They are so proud of themselves when they bust out the poetry or break out their best cliche one-liners, only to have me laugh in their face and stomp all over their little man egos, while I grab the remote and turn on the tv as I chuckle away.

So, I'm sorry to all the ladies out their who are stuck with insensitive assholes.  They were probably genuinely sweet and romantic guys at one time.   Then someone like me got ahold of them and shit all over their romantic little gestures and they were never heard from again.

Oops.