School Is Like Vitamins.

Here's the deal; I'm still not wild about the idea of being in school, but in the past two weeks I've come to realize how good it is for me. It's like vitamins, the grown-up kind, not the gummy Flinstone's ones. Not super fun, but making a better person. It's opening my mind back up again and challenging my thinking. I like to imagine my brain lifting weights. It's doing that in class, only no one can see it and I can't feel it. But I think about it anyway, because it gives me just a little more motivation to read and re-read pages of French and articles about the benefits and negative effects of assigning homework to elementary age students. I have homework about homework. I know.

The good thing is, I want to be a teacher, a really great teacher, so I work way harder in all my classes and participate in my  learning way more than I ever did in high school. As a result, I'm pretty busy. Turns out, when you do all your homework and show up to all your classes, it takes up most of the day. In addition to this, I also work most evenings at Kohl's, and spend Friday nights hanging out with middle school students at the youth group I volunteer for. Goodbye social life, I'll see you next summer. After going to Thailand and having WAY too much free time, this is kind of a shock to my system. Some days I have a half hour of free time during the whole day. This is usually used to get ready for work. But that's okay, being busy is good for me too. I have to budget my time and stay focused, two things I've never been good at.

Well, I have to go write about things of importance now, like learning styles and homework about homework about homework. As always, thanks for reading, friends.

Diary of a Slightly Reluctant College Student: Day 1.

Well, folks it's really done. My first day as a college student. I had medium-high expectations for this day, and in my head it was an easy day in which I met a few friends and got to know my classes. I would arrive on time, have all the materials I needed, and eat lunch in the sunshine on one of MSU's many pristine lawns. Nope. I arrived late, hit my elbow on my friend's car and got blood on my shirt, couldn't remember a darn thing in my French class, skipped lunch, went to the wrong class, and cried in the bathroom. Twice. The truth is, I don't want to go to college. When I tell people this, they say one of two things. One is, "if you don't want to be there, don't go wasting your money and time on it!" Or two, "Oh, come on, yes you do! College was the best time of my life, and I'm quite certain that it will be yours too, so pipe down, put on a smile, and join a club or something." Well, something along those lines. I can't take One's advice, because I know what I want to do after college. I have dreams and goals, and college is a necessary step in the process. I just don't want to go through it right now. This part of my life is putting me well into dept, and making my resources severely limited. I want to be traveling, I want to be adventurous, I want to skip to the end, where I'm a teacher and living in Africa or Asia or somewhere else distinctly different. I don't want to be here spending all my money for four years. FOUR YEARS. In response to Two, I really do want to like it. I'm trying hard. I'm introducing myself to people, I'm meeting my teachers, I'm studying things that interest me, but I guess I just can't get used to the idea of being in college. I can't accept that that is where I am in life right now, when I want to be doing to much more already. I will learn to like this experience. Some things are just waiting to be made the best of. I need patience, I need courage, and I need money, because MSU practically charges you to go to the bathroom. This is the beginning of a new stage of life, one that I'm not comfortable with yet, but one that I'll get through.

Back To Way-Too-Normal Life

I've been out of Thailand for nearly a month. The time has flown by, and I can't believe that next month the fall semester begins. I've made the decision to try the first two weeks of classes at MSU, and after that, I can continue if I like it or defer enrollment for another year if I don't. I hope I like it. My life is suddenly so normal again, and it's almost uncomfortable to be so comfortable. I'm looking for a job, going to interviews, having coffee with friends, and going running in the morning. Also, I'm cooking my own food and doing my own laundry again. Normal people stuff. What scares me is not how much I've changed by going on this trip, but by how easily things could go right back to the way they were in April, and my life would exist as if I'd never left. I can't let things go back to the way were. I don't want to go straight back to being the exact same person who I was before I left. Travel gives you a chance to reinvent yourself as whoever you want to be; another version of your self, or another person all together. I liked the version of myself I had made while backpacking, and I don't want that to slip away. Things HAVE to stay different.

And Suddenly, I'm Sure Of Nothing.

Do you sometimes get confused when the road of your life takes a huge and swinging turn? Do you wish you could peek around the corner and make sure things will work out in the end? Do you ever wake up and think about the plans you made for yourself, plans you were sure of, and suddenly panic and realize that you simply need to do something radically different and wonder if you were ever really sure about anything at all? Do you sometimes think about putting on your shoes and stepping out of your front door and going on a walk that lasts forever and from which you never fully come home? Because I do. And I don't think I'm the only one. Sometimes I want to keep my crazy thoughts to myself and not write them here for you all to read, but perhaps candor is the best medicine at times such as this. And I already have a blog and everything. Let's have a heart-to-heart, readers. I was so homesick for the last part of my time in Thailand, and I thought "home" would be partly when I arrived in New York, and then finally complete when I returned to Bozeman. But I've been here with family and friends for nearly two weeks, and while it was necessary for the recharging of my spirit, I'm ready to leave again for another unknown destination, and even though I want to, I don't feel the need to go back to Bozeman yet. Or go to school in the fall. I was so sure about attending school at MSU; I was even sure what I wanted to major in and what I wanted to do with my life after I graduated. But one day I woke up, and thought about attending freshman orientation, and registering for classes, and sitting in those classes, and being on a campus (albeit a beautiful one), and spending four years spending all my money and taking out the large loans I will obviously need, and I burst into tears. I panicked. I don't want to go. Eventually, I do. I want a college degree in an area of work that I am passionate about, but I don't know if I can handle that right now. I just want to GO. I want to continue living out of my backpack and living new lifestyles. I want to wander. I'm coming back to Bozeman, and I'll make my decision after I've had some time to think things through. Maybe I'll see attending school differently when I'm finally readjusted to stationary life in Montana. I don't want to rush into things. I've found it's most dangerous to rush into the things we most want to rush into. And I won't tell the wispy but promising plans that are taking shape for my future. But I am suddenly rearranging all the plans I made; shuffling some back into the future, moving some up to the front, making a few new ones, and tearing a few up all together. Caught in a suddent fit of restlessness and anxiety, I wrote my first-ever bucket list. It's huge. I want to do everything. I scrawled across two pages of my journal with some of the top items of importance. I think I need to go more and do more before I can do much else. I don't know. I'll be pacing the floors and making secret plans, and I'll try to keep you posted. Also, I'll be home in less than one week. And that's a little frightening.

I'm A Wreck Now.

I am back in the US of A. I am so surrounded by love and well-wishes here in my home town of Dryden, NY. It's so strange to see that I'm not the only one who's grown up. All my childhood friends are adults now, and the only thing weirder than that is the fact that I am too. I thought I would feel so well rested and relaxed when I arrived, but so far that has not been the case. My travel time from Bankok to Syracuse, NY, was 30 hours. I left on the 15th, and saw two sunrises, and two sunsets, but when I arrived, it was still the 15th. I couldn't believe it. I slept for around 14 hours on my first night at my grandma's house, in the most comfortable bed on earth. The next night, I only slept for 3 hours, the next night, I slept for 13. In the daytime, my body tells me to go to sleep, and at night it seems like a good time to start the day. So I'm exhausted. All the time. But worse than the physical part of what's happening, is what in the heck is going on with my head. I am happy, I feel safe and loved, but despite this, I find myself bursting into tears at strange times and fo no reason, and I feel so overwhelmed in this tiny and beautiful town, and can't find the strength to go out and see people who want to see me. It's absurd. I spent nearly a week in Bangkok, one of the craziest cities on the globe, and I was fine. Here, I have mentel breakdowns several times a day and can't seem to function properly. This afternoon I arrived home from a wonderful day with my mom and my grandmother, and laid down on the couch. After an hour, I started crying, and had to go bed for three hours because I just couldn't pull myself together. I don't know. I have a guess, but it doesn't make much sense. I think all the things I've done are finally catching up with me. I've been on my own for 8 weeks, and whether I wanted to or not, I had to make all the plans and all the descisions by myself. I was doing so much, seeing so much, and keeping my guard up all the time. Now I'm safe. And I guess I'm worn out. The wheather here is so beautiful. I can actually be outside without feeling like I'm going to melt or throw up or sweat myself to death. I go on a walk every morning, and I think it's the happiest part of my day. The air is fresh and clean, the sun in warm but not oppressive, and I have so much space to just wander and be happy. By around 3 I'm exhausted, and by dinner time I can hardly stay awake. In about a week I will take the train back to Bozeman, and probably go through this all over again. However, this time with old friends and family has been such a blessing, and I can't wait to reconnect with all my friends in Montana. I just had to write this stuff down, I was hoping it would help me sort things out. Thanks for reading, for the past few months, and again now.        

Thailand, Thank You.

Tomorrow morning at 6am I leave Thai soil and head for New York. I could never fully explain how important these past few months have been for me, but for the sake of you reading, I'll try. I left Bozeman feeling clueless and overwhelmed. I was only two months younger than I am now, but honestly, it feels like years. I bid farewell to my tearful parents and walked through airport security with no idea what this trip would bring or what kind of situations I would face. When I got landed in Bangkok, I took a cab for the first time in my life, to get to a spartan and lonely hotel room that had two rock solid beds and only one of me. I was terrified and so lonely that night. I felt like a lost little kid, who wandered too far down the street and can't see her front porch anymore. Things have changed so much since then. Two months later I'm in Bangkok by myself, beating back the absurdly obnoxious and rude tuk-tuk drivers, and finding the absolute best and cheapest street food stalls. Thailand has made me into the person I had always hoped to be, but hadn't actually had enough courage to be. When I was working on the farm near Sikhiu, I had the revelation one night when I was feeling rather down, that I can do absolutely whatever I want and be absolutely whoever I choose to be. This really made a difference with how I see myself and how I make decisions. From that point on I felt so free.

When I went to Laos, I met so many great people and other travelers. While I was there, I also started staying in budget dorms. The idea of budget dorms is kind of funny; sharing a bedroom with complete strangers for undecided amounts of time. It's kind of funny, but my dorm experiences (with a few exceptions) are uncannily similar. I usually got put in the last dorm on the highest floor up no less than four flights of stairs, and when I arrived I always wondered if the put me in a men's dorms, because I was almost always the only female in the room. This sounds rather sketchy, but I was pleasantly surprised to find that every room I stayed in was occupied only by perfect gentlemen who were usually down for a big dinner and a beer, which meant I didn't have to wander around and eat by myself. I much prefer dorms to hotel rooms, as I have been quite lonely in hotel rooms. This trip has really forced me to stop being shy and self-conscious, which I have tried and failed to do many times in the past. It's also taught me to trust my heart, and just go with the adventure. Sometimes, I was really scared. But I had no choice but to keep going and work things out by myself. I also have learned to accept myself the way I am. I've spent the past few months looking like an absolute wreck, and at first this really bothered me, but by this point I've accepted the fact that sometimes, I will look ugly and sweaty and sunburned, and that's okay. Sometimes all I'll have to wear is dirty laundry that smells like armpits and petrol, and feet will be coated in a permanent coat of dust and grime, and that's okay too. I feel really at peace now, almost no matter where I am.

Most of all, this trip has made me brave. I thought I was brave when I left, but just making brave decisions doesn't make a person brave. I made the brave decision to travel by myself, but on the day before I left, I was a mess with fear.  Now, I can say that I am truly brave. I've been out in big cities at night, I've been lost in so many cities and towns, I've gone out for drinks with strangers, crashed a motorbike in the mountains, climbed waterfalls, gotten tattoos back-alley shops, and lived in a shack with giant spiders. I'm not scared anymore. There are still a few things that scare me, like going insane and being buried alive, but the general fear of doing risky stuff is gone. For this, I thank Thailand, God, and all the amazing people I've met along this journey. Many people travel to "find themselves," but I think you learn more when you leave already knowing who you are. I've loved this experience, and I'm ready to come home. I leave for New York in about 18 hours, and after that I'll be back to good old Bozeman in about two weeks. Kop-kuhn-ka, Thailand. It's been grand.

Homesickness. adjective.

Homesick:

adjective

sad or depressed from a longing for home or family while away from them for a long time.

Also, a condition that comes on suddenly, when you think of the way your own bed feels, or the evenings with your family that you took for granted, that feels like a kick in the guts and doesn't leave you alone.

 

I wasn't homesick until this past week. The thought really didn't cross my mind for the first month of my travels. But when the friend I was traveling with left, and I was by myself again, I really started to feel it. Of course, the saying is true "You're never really alone when you travel alone," but I grow tired of brief friendships and friendly acquaintances for company. I grow tired of eating alone, of going on adventures with no one to share them with me, and of eating alone when I must. Eating alone is a really sad thing, and it always makes me feel uncomfortable. In Pai, I had a lot of solitude. As a result, I became quite homesick and depressed. All the things I never knew I would miss suddenly brought tears to my eyes when I thought of them. Here listed below are some of those things.

 

Dinner with my family. As I skipped dinner and walked back to my bungalow in the rain, I thought about family dinner. How amazing is a dinner with family?! How could I ever have taken it for granted? I have been craving a  barbecue night, with burgers on the grill, corn on the cob, coleslaw, and a can of baked beans. More than the food, however, I crave the company and conversation of my family. We laugh so much, and someone always seems to have a hilarious story to share. When I get home, a family dinner is my first priority.

 

My own bed. When I can't sleep in some uncomfortable budget dorm, I close my eyes and pretend that I'm in my own bed, with my own sheets, pillows, and blankets. They smell like my house, and candles, and laundry, not like someone who stayed there before me. There is something so comforting about ones own bed, which I never really realized until I started staying in so many hostels. 

 

Toilet paper. I know this one is dumb, but I am starting to miss the comforts of home. If you want toilet paper in Thailand, you have to buy it yourself, and carry it with you. The same goes for soap. 

Mountains. It's strange how much a person Identifies his or her self by their surroundings. When My plane flies over the Bridgers, my heart will do little home coming dance. I miss the strong wind and crisp clean air of the mountains, and their reassuring presence when I see them every morning. 

 

Even though I am homesick, I am so appreciative of this trip and all the experiences and knowledge it has brought me. It has opened my mind to so many people and so many different ways of life. This is my last week in Thailand. I can't believe it. I leave for Bangkok tonight on MY LAST NIGHTBUS of the trip, and I'll spend my my last few days being a quintessential backpacker around the Khaosan road. 

Bamboo Tattoo On a Whim.

Since I don't want to write out the history right now, here is a concise explanation of the history of bamboo tattoos: http://www.bambootattoo.co.uk/history-of-bamboo-tattoo.php
As soon as I heard about bamboo tattooing in Thailand, I thought it sounded like something I should definitely try. Since I've been in Pai, I've seen about 5 bamboo tattoo parlors. So yesterday I picked one, got a price estimate, and made an appointment for today. Today I went to my appointment, and the fun began. The design I got is the Thai writing for "chok dee," or, good luck, in Thai. It's something that I've said and that's been said to me often, and it will always remind me of this awesome adventure. They got everything ready, took plenty of time to align the tattoo perfectly, and then prepared the bamboo. Bamboo tattoo is a lot gentler than normal tattooing with a gun. They use a thin bamboo stick with some tiny needles attached to the end. They tap the skin with these tiny needles, and it doesn't bleed or scab. My tattoo artist was a large, friendly Thai wearing reading glasses, and naturally, covered in tattoos. He was assisted by his lovely wife, a sweet lady with a lot of facial piercings. The whole thing took about one half hour. It hurt a little, but not bad at all. Like a pinching and a little burning. I would post a picture if I could, but since I can't, Just believe me when I say it looks awesome and I love it. After two hours, it already looked completely healed. If you go to Thailand, or somewhere else in SE Asia, I definitely recommend the bamboo tattoo experience. Plus, it only cost me about 40USD. 

So, I Crashed The Motorbike...

Today, I decided to go on an adventure. I left my bungalow in the morning, and after a big breakfast, I went straight to the motorbike rental company. "You drive before?" they asked. "Yes," I said, which was kind of true, since I had had a five minute driving lesson in a field a week before in Chiang Mai. I got the bike, and drove around until I found the petrol station. With a full water bottle and a full tank of petrol, I was ready to head into the misty mountains. I drove for about an hour up a hill and through tiny villages and found my way to a few lovely little waterfalls, where I spent a few happy hours climbing and splashing and generally having a great time. I left, and when I reached Pai again, I chose a direction and started driving. After a while, I turned onto a long, winding, crazy mountain pass. I drove this for about a half hour, and was finally starting to feel confident about my driving and turning and whatnot. Pride cometh before the fall. Literally. I crashed the motorbike. I had turned around, and was cruising down the mountain and feeling super cool. I don't remember exactly what happened, but I was taking a steep downhill curve and suddenly I couldn't remember how to drive. I  knew I should hit the brakes, but I couldn't remember how in that moment, and I knew I should turn the handlebars, but I couldn't move. I looked straight ahead, and the bike crashed headlong into a cement post on the inside of the curve. Don't worry mom and dad, I was wearing a helmet, and good thing too, because I was thrown from the bike into the road, where my rage doll body landed flat, my head hitting the ground with a thunk. God kept my safe then, there's no other way to explain the fact that I didn't have a scratch or bruise, not even a headache where my head had smacked against the ground. I scrambled to my feet, and back to the bike, turning off the engine. The bike was heavy. and it was partly stuck in the loose sand at the side of the road. I couldn't right it by myself. Just when I was starting to exhaust myself, a man in a truck drove by and stopped in the middle of the road. He didn't speak any English, but he helped me pull my heavy bike out of the ditch and waited until I started it to get back in his truck. He stood there awhile, staring at me. I think he wanted to ask me if I was okay, or maybe HOW I was okay. I don't know if he saw to fall onto the road or not. I wasn't shaken up, I didn't have a scratch, and my bike still worked fine. Just a big crack in the front fender and a few scratches on the rest of the bike. That could have been really bad. I am so thankful that I was kept safe. As soon as I started to drive away, it started to rain. Hard. I arrived at the next waterfall on my map soaking wet and feeling exhausted. I rested there awhile, and climbed around on some of the rocks. I looked for my sunglasses case in my purse, and found it, smashed flat from when I hit the road. As I was leaving and pulling out onto the extremely steep and slippery road, I lost control of the bike, and wouldn't you know it, the damn thing tipped over on me. ONTO me. I got my leg free and moved just in time, because the bike started sliding down. I wanted to cry. Just sit down and cry. But I didn't have that option, and so I tried to get some traction on that hill, and began the difficult task of lifting the bike a rolling it to the flat spot 20ft down the road. I was out of breath, my arms were exhausted, and my feet were slipping, but I couldn't give up, and eventually I  made it to the flat spot. I sat on the seat of the bike and waited for my hands to stop shaking. I started the bike, and drove back to the rental company. Take this devil machine away from me. I have a few bruises on my leg from where the bike almost squashed it, but I was extremely lucky. I wanted an adventure, but I got more of one than I had bargained for. I think I'll take a break from driving for awhile.

In Pai Now

Praise the Lord, I made to Pai! It was honestly a pretty rough journey, even though it only took four hours. I was picked up from my guesthouse by a sangthaew (song-tao) full of other backpackers, which took us to our minibus. Once every seat was occupied and our enormous and way too heavy packs were loaded, they sealed in the air and away we went. The road to Pai is the swerviest, curviest, craziest road I've ever been on; it was like a slow roller coaster that lasted four hours. After one half hour, I was already carsick. After three hours, I thought I was going to have to break the air-seal and vomit out the window. I sat in the miserable state of motion sick people, arms crossed around my stomach, and laying forward over my legs. Every time I opened my eyes and looked out the window my stomach whirled and spun, and I started to get cold and sweaty. On both sides of every hairpin turn were walls of bright green foliage, with no break and nothing to focus my eyes on. We arrived in Pai just in time, because I thought I might have to cry or vomit very soon. I carried my pack across one of the rickety bamboo bridges across a small river, and checked into a charmingly shabby bungalow, one of many on the property owned by a kind and hospitable transvestite. I'm not really sure what to do with my time here yet, but I think I'll have no problem spending a week here. Pai was previously described to me as a beach town without a beach. We'll see how it goes.

Visas Are Dumb

So, I had a super fun day today. It was spent sweating my face off at the Chiang Mai immigration office. My visa was set to expire on June 9th, but I'm not leaving Thailand until the 15th, so this was a problem. I was naive, however, and thought that I could trust the guidebooks and travel blogs; they told me visa extension was easily and relatively fast. They lied. I arrived by tuk-tuk at 10am, thinking I would only be there for two hours. I made my way to the visa office, to discover that it was positively bursting at the seams with people from every place a person could be from. There were Indian, Swiss, German, Canadian, Ukrainian, Cambodian, American, Australian, and Russian, just to name a few. The line to receive a queue number extended through the doors, and was practically five people deep, with everyone pushing and shoving and elbowing each other for no reason other than claustrophobia. I waited in the queue line twice, and when I finally got my number, it wasn't a visa extension number, so I had to start over. By this time it was about 11am, and I took a seat to wait. And wait. AND wait. By 1pm they had only gotten to number 51. I was number 86. At this time the staff took a lunch break, which took about a half an hour. I also had to get photos taken, because apparently a passport sized photo just doesn't work for the blank space on the form that says PASSPORT PHOTO. These are pictures that I sincerely hope no one has to see. Ever. Taken after 3 sweaty hours of waiting, they are really pretty awful. Anyway, I spent a lot of time people-watching while I was waiting, and a discovered something: absolutely no one likes going to the immigration office. Everyone looked tired, impatient, hungry, and bored. So we were all in the same boat, which made me feel a little bit better. I met a guy from Canada, he was number 87. We passed the time telling our funniest travel stories and talking about our home towns. Finally, at 3pm, they called our numbers. I practically climbed over the people in front of me to get to the counter, I was so excited to get out of there. They spent some time smashing stamps onto my passport, and then I paid them, and they set my passport in a stack of others to wait a little longer. I think the workers there release their anger and frustration by stamping. They punch it into the ink pad a few times, and the slam it onto the passport a few more times. Finally, at 4:30pm, I received my renewed visa and passport, and did a little jig on the sidewalk as I left. That is something I am really glad to only have to do once. So tomorrow, FOR REAL, I will leave for Pai. I bought a kilo of mangosteen, and I am ready for the twisty-turny carsick journey to a few relaxing days in Pai. Thanks for reading about my visa day, I'll update from Pai as soon as I find some internet.

Quick, Boring Post

Ladies and gentlemen, I am freaking exhausted, and I look horrible, but rest assured, I am really happy. I've been spending most of my time with a German friend that I met in Luang Prabang, Laos, about a week ago. It has been really nice to make a friend and take a break from travelling alone. Plus, there's a lot of things to do while traveling that are just a lot more fun with friends. In the past week I've been ziplining, gone cave-exploring, been to many a good bar, explored the zoo, learned to drive a motor bike, climbed and waded through waterfalls, and had more noodle soups and fruit shakes that I could count. Plus, I helped him choose souvenirs for his girlfriend and family, so I'd say I'm pretty helpful, even though I can't find my way back to the guesthouse most of the time and I can't give directions to anyone. The past week has been exhausting, but so awesome. My time in Chiang Mai has definitely been a hilight to the trip. I only have 13 more days left in SE Asia. The time has flown by, but at the same time, I feel like I've been gone for years. It's strange how time works when we're away. I can't believe I only turned 18 less than 2 months ago. I feel like I've aged years in that time. When people ask me my age, it takes just a moment longer than it should to say "I'm 18." I feel like I should be at least 20, high school seems like forever ago, when it was only a year ago. I haven't met anyone my own age so far, which is crazy, because I've been meeting other travelers for almost 2 months. Coming home might be hard. I'm honestly pretty nervous. I will have to find a place to live near MSU, and find another job. I can't hail a tuk-tuk, go out to a cool bar with new friends from other countries, or wear my dirty laundry for a week, and never style my hair or put on makeup. Things will be expensive again, and I'll have to pay in dollars. However, there are some things about home that I am just so excited for. First of all, steak. I am really craving a steak. And snowy mountains and cold nights, and eating apples and peanut butter on the back porch on lazy summer days, and taking some time out of every day to give my dog, Hank, a hug that he will not appreciate. And my friends and family, I'm really starting to miss them. I also miss being able to walk outside without being drenched in sweat and covered with mosquito bites within 10 minutes. Basically, part of me is excited to come home, and a slightly bigger part of me wants to just keep traveling for a very long time. I really love this way of life. Anyway, this isn't a very good post, but I'll do one of those later. There is just to much going on and being thought about right now. I miss you, reading people, and even though it doesn't seem true, I'll be home in a month.

The VIP Sleeper Bus All-Inclusive Experience.

Do you enjoy long, sleepless, uncomfortable nights? do you ever feel that transportation makes too much sense? Would you like to spend a night in a child-sized bed with a complete stranger in the most nonsexual way possible? If you answered yes to one or more of these questions, then take the sleeper bus, and experience social and physical discomfort like never before! First, it may seem like you're in for a good night or sleep; the lights dim, you have a nice little mattress, and you start to doze lightly before the bus even leaves. But don't worry, a stranger who is obviously larger than you will be hoisting himself onto your bed shortly, taking up the majority of the already tiny mattress. Naturally, he'll snore, and roll over a lot, and accidentally-maybe-not-accidentally brush your rear end with his hand. By the way, he doesn't speak a lick of English. Folks, if you can imagine it, things can get even better on the night bus. The road is a mess of potholes, twists, and hairpin turns, sending your stomach swirling and your body slamming into the bed's metal guard rails or the stranger next to you. This is the VIP bus, but why on earth would there be a restroom on the VIP bus when you can use nature's toilet? The stops aren't planned. They have no order, but at whatever time the driver is feeling bored, he'll flick on the florescent lights inches above your head, turn on Gangnam Style at full volume, and holler something in Lao about taking a pee. At that time you will grab your shoe-baggie, cram towards the door with every other exhausted and peeved bus-rider, and hop out the door while trying to put on your shoes. Then, you and the others race into the ditch or open field at which you have been parked, and relieve yourself in the best place you can find in 10 seconds. After a very short minute, the bus driver honks the horn once, twice, and then three times, as everyone races back to the bus, crowding and shoving to pack through the rabbit-hole of a doorway once again. The minute everyone is through the door, the gas is punched, and you lurch away for a few more fun hours before the next stop. By this time, it's around midnight, you've been on the bus for about four hours. You've been hungry for all four of these hours. The bus pulls over to a dim restaurant in the middle of nowhere. You crowd and push out, get a piping hot bowl of noodle soup, and eat it in the company of thousands of giant bugs that are flying around and smashing into your face and neck. You eat quickly, because you hear the horn, and the bus is starting to pull away. Crowding, pushing, shoving, and away into the night. If you're lucky, as I was, the person next to you might be a hogger. They try, while pretending not to, to gain as much of the bed as possible. Don't take that, you deserve your equal sliver of the bed. When the bus lurches away from your side, that's your turn to make a move. Stick out your butt, stick out your knees, stick out your elbows. You are the human cactus. Stay like that for awhile, until they fall asleep or think you've fallen asleep. The bus lurches your way, time to defend your territory! Brace yourself against the guardrail, and don't give up and inch of ground. You won't sleep, but you won't wake up spooning with a stranger, either, and let's face it, you probably weren't going to be sleeping anyway. If you're tired of the average travel experience, and find it far too comfortable and restful, then I strongly recommend the sleeper bus to you. I can guarantee from personal experience that you will get the discomfort and awkward situations you're missing in your life.

Wasting Time and Hiding From The Heat.

Well folks, I only have a few more hours to kill before I can try to get a night bus to Luang Prahbang! Thankfully, it's raining now, but for the better part of this day, it was so hot it made me feel sick. I checked out of my guesthouse this morning, and so I have nowhere to crash during the heat of the day. I walked for awhile, and tried to go to a beautiful temple. They said the were "closed," and that I would have to come back later and buy a ticket. I'm really not fond of the temples in the big Asian cities. Sure, there are a few monks walking around, but the authenticity of the temple is robbed by the ticket and souvenir booths at every exit and entrance, trying to make a buck of every foreigner who walks by. For me, the lure of the temples isn't really the architecture. While incredibly beautiful, it's not what I go for. What makes a temple special for me is the people to worship and pray there. In a temple that's not packed with tourists, and doesn't have a gift shop, you can feel that. You can take off your shoes, and walk the same cool stone stairs that countless others have walked on their way to and from a meeting with their faith. I went into one temple today; it was 106 degrees outside, and I paid to go inside. I didn't like it. I wanted to see what it was like before any tourists like me started passing through and taking pictures. After another hot and exhausting stroll through the city, and one wearying trudge through the chaotic mall, I ended up and True Coffee, just as I have everyday in Vientiane. If you're looking for an authentic Laos experience, don't go to True Coffee. At any given time, there are about 20 foreigners and 2 Lao people. However, if you want to meet other travelers, check your email, or drink a slightly overpriced but extremely delicious and sugary coffee, True Coffee is the place for you. It has a definite appeal, as an oasis of hipster glamor and blessedly cold air. I like to go there and read, stare at other tourists, and listen to the many different languages and conversations that take place there. I'm not ashamed to admit that I spent a whole three hours by myself there today. It was just too hot to do anything else. After that kind of heat, the tingling of goose bumps and the very notion of being too cold seem like blissful and wondrous happenings. I've had a lot of caffeine today, and not a lot of food. The first, because I have nowhere to nap today, and I have to catch a night bus, and not a lot of food because, while I was staying on the farm in Thailand, I ate SO much. I can't even comprehend how I fit so many calories in my body in one month. Chips? Yes! Ice cream? Of course! Bread? I'll have half a loaf, please! So, I gained about five pounds, which, considering how much I ate, is pretty good. Anyway, it's finally raining. It feels as if the whole, sweltering city breathes a sigh of relieve when a storm comes to make the outdoors habitable again. Oh, I really want a nap. The more I think about it, the better it sounds. And a steak. A big steak, cooked medium rare. If anyone would like to purchase and cook a steak for me upon my return, the gesture will be greatly appreciated. Ok, well, I suppose I'll wander around a bit more. Only three more hours...and then nine more on a bus...Yay...

So, I'm In Laos Now.

When I left the states to travel alone, I was honestly a little nervous to be by myself, even though I said I wasn't. Now, I'm so glad I chose to go alone. It has opened me up to so many new experiences, and forced me to meet new people and ask more questions. It's forced me to be independent, even when I didn't want to be, and to face and conquer my anxiety. Nothing helps you define yourself better than a trip to a new place taken alone. I said goodbye to the good folks at Rak Tamachat on Thursday, and let me tell you, I will really miss that place. I have never looked worse or been more comfortable with myself than I was there. It seemed that I always had a sunburn, was always covered in bug bites, and no matter how many times I washed them, my feet were always dirty. But I was accepted there, and that made me feel good. On Thursday night, Lola and Jake drove me and my backpack to the bus stop, and waited with me for about a half an hour. For some reason, at that time I started to panic, and tried hard not to let it show. Suddenly a minibus drove up, and Jake was already walking over to it with my huge pack. He threw it in the door, I gave them both a hug, and the doors closed and away I went. It was a much quicker goodbye than I would have wanted, and on the minibus I felt sad. As I was leaving, Lola had handed me an envelope, which contained letters and drawings form her and Jake. I tore it open, read through them twice, and immediately felt better. The bus ride Hnong Kai went quickly, and I sat up front in the drivers compartment. He was very nice; he even pulled over to the side of the road so that I could run to the main bus compartment and use the bathroom. The border crossing was blissfully uneventful, and I found a guesthouse with a half hour of looking. I booked a bed in a dorm room of the Mixay Guesthouse, on the very top floor, up five flights of stairs. It's perfect. My roommates for now are a French man with tattoos, traveling for fun through Laos, and a super sociable man from New York City, who travels and promotes art for his work. They are both kind, helpful, and interesting people. The most important thing I've learned so far, is that enjoyable travel requires surrender and a good sense of humor. Just let go, and keep smiling. I never thought I would feel comfortable sharing a room with two people I've never met before, but the truth is I feel more comfortable than I would in a room by myself. I had been up all night, and all day as well, but I couldn't sleep because everyone else was still awake and moving about and turning lights on and off, so instead of being cranky, I just let it go, and went outside my room to where a few of the top floor guests were relaxing and talking. Geoffry, the guy from New York, was there, a guy name Peter, from Holland, and an elderly and extremely pleasant man from Japan, named Masaki. Masaki had a portable cooler with him, and was serving up fresh made cocktails from the generous contents of this cooler. "Masaki's Free Bar," he calls it. This man knows how to make friends. I had a lovely visit with these gentlemen until everyone quieted down in the guesthouse. Then, after being awake for more than 2 hours, I finally, FINALLY, went to sleep. So far, I love Laos. It's fun, interesting, cheap and eccentric. And, the food is incredible. In two days, I get on a bus to Luang Prahbang. This is a marvelous experience, and I wish it could go on much longer than the next month.

Thailand Is Still Awesome

So, yes, I've really been neglecting this blog. I've tried to post twice, but the internet was too slow the first time, and the second time the computer crashed. I'll just try to sum up some of the things I've been up to here in rural Thailand. First of all, it seems I can't go outside without breaking a sweat and getting a sunburn, which is bad because we spend almost all day outside here on the farm. Secondly, the mosquitoes think I'm the bees knees and I am covered in bites. However, I feel as if I'm finally living out the dream of adventure I've carried around all of my life. My feet are always dirty, my clothes are never clean, I never look nice here, and I find that really freeing. I have no one to impress or anyone's approval to try and earn. I can do what I want and go where I please and eat 3 mangoes everyday just because I feel like it. A few days ago Lola, Benjamin and I went into Sikhui to go to market, as we were running really low on food and were completely out of fruit. Since it was 100 degrees, I wore a dress, which seemed like a really good idea when I left. However, as I tried to climb off the bike without showing the entire marketplace my underwear, I burnt my leg on the tailpipe of the bike. It looks kind of awful, but it should be fine. I've been using Jake's special tried and true method of burn healing, where I chop an aloe vera leaf in half and tie it onto my leg for several hours. It actually works amazingly well. Today we dropped Benjamin at the bus stop and had to say goodbye to our dear curry-cooking friend, who is on his way to India right now. After that, Lola, Jake and I went on an adventure, and drove and drove in the sidecar through tiny towns and beautiful farmland. I got a sunburn, naturally, but I've just tied some more aloe to my leg and I put some on my face as well. On the 16th, I am heading to Laos for a quick one week stay there. I may stay in Vientiane, but the more I think about it the more I also want to see Luang Prabang. We'll see. I'll most likely be taking the night bus, and arriving to the border in the early morning, before the rush (or maybe before it even opens), which would be great. I want to find a cool yet cheap guesthouse to stay in, and then I plan on spending an entire day just sleeping. I just fall asleep all the time here. I think it's the weather. I tried to read for a while this afternoon, but I ended up sleeping for the last two hours. There was the most magnificent storm today. Luckily we had just arrived home and weren't trying to drive home through it. It was so loud! and the wind and lightning and thunder and water we so powerful. A few banana trees near the showers were knocked down, but otherwise everything is (miraculously) fine. I really meant to be posting more here, but this computer doesn't always like me. There is SO much more I could write, but I think I have to cut off here. Thanks for reading and praying for me!

I Made It!

I don't have enough space or time to fully describe even the first few days of this experience. I'm sitting in the sala, the main kitchen building here on the farm I'm staying at, on a plastic chair in front of a pink fan, because it's 100 degrees today. I'm still exhausted from the days of travel that got me here, and my body hasn't yet adapted to the temperature, so all I do is guzzle water and sweat it all out within the hour. Like really, when I go to bed at night, I have to hang my clothes out on the porch line to dry the sweat from them. Anyway, I am so thankful to God for getting me here safely. I landed in Bangkok at midnight, and a shuttle was supposed to be there to take me to the hotel I had booked a room in. It wasn't there, so I took a taxi for the first time in my whole life. Once I got to my hotel room, I tried to text my family, because they wanted to know when I made it to Thailand safely. I found out then that my phone is not working in this country, even though the Verizon company told me it would. I just wanted my family to know I was OK, and I couldn't reach them. Maybe it was just exhaustion, but I burst into tears, lay down in the clothes I had already been wearing for two days, and cried myself to sleep. In the morning I took a freezing cold shower, crammed everything back into my backpack, and left. I walked to the ATM, found a taxi, and went to the bus station. He took my to the wrong bus station, so I found another taxi, and went an hour to the right bus station. I got on the bus, and 3 hours later, they pulled over, opened the doors and said "Sikhiu." I got into the back of a truck with benches after that, and asked him to take me to Nong Bua Noi, which I knew is close to the farm. Side note: Once you're out of the big cities, nobody speaks any English. Once we got there, we stopped to talk to a shirtless old guy sitting in a shop. He understood the word "farm," and was able to figure things out and translate to my driver. 20 minutes into the countryside on a dirt road, and then we stopped. I had no idea if this was even the right farm. By God's grace, it was. I can't believe I'm actually here and doing this. I have a sweet little bungalow on the shore of a pond, with a little cactus garden planted in old water bottles and a hammock on the porch. The people her are awesome too. And the food, well, the food is just fantastic. Ok, I have to go cook some fry bread and help build a garden now. I love Thailand. That's all.

For Real.

Everyone. My life is crazy. A year ago I was dreaming of adventure, worrying because I had no idea how I could make it happen. I was panicking about the future, crying about the past, and stuck without an idea of what I was passionate about or what I should pursue in life. I decided enough was enough. I wanted to be a doer, not just a dreamer. So I quit high school, got my GED, and ran after a several different dreams and heartbreaks that never worked out because they just weren't supposed to. I got a job I hated but quickly learned to love it, and let go of all the expectations I had for myself. I thought about my future, the long run, not just the next few years. I thought about what I loved, what made me cry for joy, and what I needed to do in order to make my life matter. I didn't make plans. Just thought. And waited. I stopped dieting, and started exercising and trying to love the person God made me. Which, by the way, is WAY easier said than done. We are our worst critics, it seems. I decided I was done being affected by negative opinions, and cut all my hair off. I realized I wanted to be a teacher, and applied for MSU. I decided to be happy, and to work for that happiness and claim it for myself. Now, I'm almost an adult, I'm employee of the month at my soon-to-be-done job, I start my last weeks of work tomorrow, I'm enrolled as a fall 2013 student, and...I leave for Thailand in 16 days. I'm going. I can hardly believe it. It honestly scares the crap out of me, but I don't think it's enough to just be dreamers. In the end, we our measured by our experiences, not just our dreams. Dreams are motivational, but experience is life-changing. You have to take a risk. You have to feel the fear and heart pounding exhilaration of not knowing what's going to happen. I am so overwhelmed, so terrified, but actually, so happy. I've been waiting for this time in my life for far too long. I get to travel for three months, move in with my best friend, find a new job, and start college. This is finally for real.

Full Of True Love

Everyone, Valentines day is next week. Here's the way it usually goes: If you're single you hate it, you complain about it, and you realize the enormity of your singleness on this very pink and red day. If you are in a relationship, you look forward to this day, even if you know all you'll get is some flowers or some waxy Hallmark chocolates. Maybe you'll even hold your breath for some surprise gesture of affection, and be grossly disappointing when it doesn't arrive. I get it. I've been through plenty of single Valentines days. They used to make me sad, and make me feel lonely. I even held on to a secret hope that someone might choose this day to say to me, "you are great. You are like sunshine to my soul. I like the person you are." Or something like that. Of course that never happened, because only I am socially awkward enough to actually say something like that out loud.
However, one day I just stopped thinking about that, stopped needing that. Never stopped wanting that, of course, but somewhere along the twisty path of life I found the inner oasis of peace and joy that only a reliance on my creator and a solid acceptance of the ways of this earth can provide.
This New Years, I made a resolution: choose joy. I decided that there was happiness for me if I would make the effort to resist self-pity, that sappy and wholly unnecessary kill-joy, and embrace the blessings and beauty that God had placed all around me. Beauty can be found in anything. The best poetry is written in the faces of strangers and the sounds we've stopped listening to. Have you ever seen someone asleep on a train? Have you heard a child laugh at something simple and pure? Have you ever watched someone pray? Does any of this make sense? I guess what I'm trying to say is, I just love this life we get to live, and all the strange things that define it. There are so many people sharing life with us right now. They smile some days and cry other days. They worry about their futures and they fall in love. There is so much happening in the hearts and heads of everyone on planet earth, and that is a strangely comforting thought. It makes a person feel small and not so alone. There is so much evil in the world, but there is also so, so much good. We just don't hear about the good as much. Sometimes we hardly even notice it. Try to find it, and if you can't find it, make it. I am trying to do that, but I make a lot of mistakes. I need a lot more wisdom before I can make any reliable hypotheses about the human experience. All I know for now is that I am blessed to be a part of it.

I Bought a Ticket

Well, I booked a ticket to Thailand. I'm so excited. I leave just two days after my 18th birthday. I've been planning a big adventure for so long, and now I can't believe I get to leave in a little over two months. When I arrive in Bangkok, I will spend a day traveling by train, taxi, bus, and tuk tuk to reach my destination, Rak Tamachat farm. It's a beautiful permaculture farm in the countryside, and it's where I will be spending the majority of my stay. After a month and a half here, I will spend the first two weeks of June backpacking and exploring Thailand. I hope to go south to the coast and eat my weight in Thai food during this time. After that, I will board a flight to New York, where I will visit my friends and family whom I haven't seen in 3 years. I get to spend two weeks there, and after that, I will take the train or bus home, which will take four days. This seems like something that should scare me. But it doesn't. I'm not scared at all. I know I can do this, I've been preparing for this for a year. Please pray for my safety and wisdom during this crazy adventure. I'm so pumped for this!

Letter To A Friend

This is written to a real person who is very dear to me, but who will remain nameless for the sake of publishing this.

Dear Friend, what happened? You were my sister, and now I don't even know you. I know what you look like, I know where you live, but as for your heart and your life, they've become strangers to me. And I don't like that. We've grown apart, and it seems like we're not even friends sometimes. You barely talk to me anymore, but I don't blame you. Sometimes when life gets difficult we push away our friends. And for you, life is hard right now. You are just realizing the price of finding meaning and individuality, and you're finding out how lonely it all can be. I know it's tempting, but don't let these things make you bitter. Bitterness is easy in the present, but costly in the long run, because when you look back at life you will want to see a beautiful soul who let things, and people, and love inside her heart, instead of someone who closed up like a dead little plant and never let the magic of life in. As human beings we naturally want to make something beautiful out our lives, but making something beautiful out of life not only means celebrating the breathless moments of perfect wonder, but letting yourself be broken open and torn apart as well, accepting the sorrow and the pain in your chest, and knowing that through it all, no matter what you think, there will always be kind people who will comfort you. Not only people to comfort you, but a big God, who sees your pain, but also sees the end of your hurting, and loves you more than simple human reasoning can fathom.
   
      The most beautiful choice you can make in pursuit of your beautiful life is to CHOOSE JOY. What a concept, right? This was a revelation to me, and it is honestly something that has changed my life for the unbelievably better. My favorite verse in the Bible is also one of the shortest; 1 Thessalonians 5:16 says 'Rejoice always,' that's it. Paul then goes on to say in verses 17 and 18, 'pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.' Whenever I read this in puts my heart at peace. It's not a long list of things you must do, it's just a simple way of thought that will lift your heart closer to your heavenly father.

     Listen: the world is so big. Sometimes when I think about this it's so amazing that I want lay down on the earth and cry. Don't be discouraged by what goes on in your tiny little pinpoint on the map. There is an entire planet full of places to lose yourself and places to find yourself. I know that joy is waiting for you, and I can't wait to see where it takes you.

Sleep Miracles, a Poem

Sleep Miracles

When A human being falls asleep

the beautiful miracles of simple happenings

play out upon an unlit stage.

You see them dream, and once again they are children,

innocence wrapped around them like a favorite blanket.

Hate; gone. Fear; at bay. Their faces are untied,

the furrows in their brows 

smoothed by the fingers of rest.

The monsters of life, the demons if the days;

Worry, Work, a Failed Love,

 and the Fear of Never Being Enough,

wait for morning, hiding in passing glances

and the pages of books.

Not even they can intrude upon

the fleeting hours of regained childhood.

The time before a memory can turn to a regret, 

the time before the plans of fate

are rearranged once more.

As the sleepers chest rises and falls

with each gentle breath, you want to reach out,

trace the temporary softness of their face,

hear the peace of their stillness. 

But you don't.

Because you've come to believe in miracles.

And you know that time is so short

and innocence is so precious.