Unlike many of my friends, I didn’t spend my summer working my butt off at some incredible internship, or traveling around the globe checking out exotic places. I put my seven years of competitive swimming to use and decided to teach people how to swim at a nearby university. Not only did I get to enjoy the gorgeous Miami weather on a daily basis (when we weren’t having torrential downpours) and get to look at the even more gorgeous guys, I learned some very interesting things.

For example, even the cutest little girl’s vomit will be vile when you are covered with it. And, even though the adorable boy you teach can’t be more than 40 pounds, his “accidental” kicks to your lady parts will make you see stars. Every. single. time.

Since I don’t plan on teaching swimming or working with kids in the future, I didn’t anticipate learning anything super important through this job. I figured I’d be in the sun, make some money, and get really pruney fingers now and then. But while I was teaching these little kids how to stay afloat in a large body of water, they were teaching me a much bigger lesson. Read More »

After far too long without college football, I took a trip back up to my old school to watch the first game of the season. I figured my friend and I would grab some lunch at our favorite restaurant, watch the game from the non student section with her parents, and head home when the day was over.

Upon arriving on campus we immediately headed to lunch where we began our meal with a Bloody Mary and some Mojitos. It was at that moment that I realized our leisurely Saturday afternoon was going to be anything but.

The combination of the rum pumping through my veins and my excitement at being back on campus got me feeling all nostalgic. I missed campus, I missed my friends, and, most of all, I missed getting completely sh*tcanned before a football game.

So we followed our hearts and decided to do it up college style.

I chugged Franzia with some frat boys (“BABIES! You can’t chug for your life!”), downed Boones Farm with my friends – and that was before we even left the lawn. I had a 40 on my way to the game, which I shared with some random band playing on a porch that belonged to people I did not know. And I sang bad 80’s songs into the mic. Read More »

My on-the-road anxieties have been eased by this one important mantra. Call it zen, call it what you will, but there is something utterly freeing about the reality that life is sometimes beyond your control and that you just have to let things go.

An illustration: Back in December, I was on a plane from Bogotá to Quito. A very short distance certainly, but it was the longest journey from point A to point B I’ve ever endured.

In the end, it took me twenty four hours to fly the short 450 mile distance between the two cities. I grew a gray hair of worry that I wouldn’t be able to catch my connecting flight back to Los Angeles, but I certainly learned a great lesson that I now apply to all the impatient moments in my travel career. Read More »