42 Hours in Norway

One of the most fun parts of traveling is hunting for the cheap deals that you just can’t pass up. It’s a bit like a treasure hunt mixed with a tad of Russian roulette. I rarely pass them up, just like I never say no to a slice of cherry pie when I’m comatose on Thanksgiving. It’s just not an option I consider. So, when a direct flight from Oakland to Oslo was a mere $300, I booked it. Norway hasn’t been high on my ever-growing list of exotic locales, but my desire to round out my Scandinavian countries portfolio was alluring. From the moment my plane landed in Oslo, the clock ticked down from 42 hours.

Oslo
As always, I hit the ground running after a quick, hot shower and friendly greeting to the Airbnb host. With a map and metro card in hand, I set out for Frognerparken, the largest park in Oslo that also features an extensive sculpture garden, The Vigeland Park. The drizzle and ensuing frizzed hair didn’t deter me from hoofing it all over the park’s hills, stairs, and bridges. The city views from the highest point were beautiful, and I continued my wandering through the quaint streets, passing colorful houses, high-rise buildings, and plenty of cozy cafes.

I stumbled upon Litteraturhuset (the literature house), and was pleasantly greeted with a lovely bookstore and inviting cafe, perfect for an afternoon espresso. I spent the next two hours wandering around the Royal Palace and gardens, Bogstadveien — one of Oslo’s most popular shopping areas — and Akershus Festning, the 700-year-old seaside castle fortress. Later that evening, I found myself at Louise Restaurant & Bar by the sea with a gigantic seafood platter in front of me — easily enough for three people — but I needed to sample Norway’s finest: mussels, shrimp, crab legs, oysters, scallops, and lobster tail. The $10 beer helped wash it all down. Dusk was settling in at 10:30 p.m., and under a purple haze sky I meandered through the sparkling city center.

Frognerparken. Oslo, Norway.

Frognerparken. Oslo, Norway.

Frognerparken. Oslo, Norway.

Frognerparken. Oslo, Norway.

Vigeland Sculpture Park. Oslo, Norway.

Oslo, Norway.

Oslo, Norway.

Fjords
I boarded a train at 8:00 a.m. the next morning, bound for the fjords thanks to the Norway in a Nutshell 24-hour tour. As the cities rolled by, I dozed off an hour in and awoke to a blanket of pristine, white frozen beauty — snow! The train stopped off high in the mountains at Myrdal and I boarded the Flam Railway, which took us down to a waiting boat at Flam. I spent almost three hours floating through the Sognefjord to Gudvangen, surrounded by thousands of waterfalls dripping from mountains that were parted by the crystal blue waters. Ethereal, dream-like landscape surrounded our tiny vessel as it made its way through the finger-like waterways. The boat dropped us in Gudvangen where we continued our journey via bus and train to Bergen, the second-largest Norwegian city.

Flam Railway.

Kjosfossen, one of the most-visited waterfalls in Norway.

Flam.

The Aurlandsfjord

The Aurlandsfjord.

The Nærøyfjord.

Bergen
I had two hours to explore before the night train left for Oslo, so I ran around the city like a crazy woman snapping photos of colorful buildings, old churches, and cobblestone streets.

Outside of Stockholm, Bergen felt like the most Scandinavian city I’d visited. The colorful buildings lining the harbor was a picturesque reminder of why I love to travel. New places, new moments, new me. Nothing has encouraged me — challenged me — to know myself better than traveling.

The six-hour night train dropped me back in Oslo just in time to shower and grab my luggage from the Airbnb before I headed to the airport — just 42 hours after I’d first arrived.

Bergen, Norway.

Bergen, Norway.

Bergen, Norway.

Bergen, Norway.

 

Become a Confident Solo Traveler

 “Aren’t you scared to travel alone?” is the typical question I get when someone hears I’ve planned a solo adventure somewhere. The simple answer is no and the more complex answer is yes. Traveling alone isn’t a scary thing; it’s freeing, liberating, and exciting. But, yes, traveling alone can be scary at times because you’re out of your comfort zone, most likely in a place you’re never been before, in a country where you may not speak the language. By any definition this is scary and can create inhibitions to those wanting to venture out on their own.

So what do you need to be confident when you’re traveling solo?

The best thing you can pack is an open mind; free yourself of stereotypes and judgments and let yourself be free to experience a new culture. Be gracious as a visitor as if you’re a guest in someone’s home. Be respectful, polite, and know at least a few key phrases in the native language. It’s also important to be prepared before you go and proactive about basic planning and research, so you feel good about embarking out on your own. Although I still get scared and can feel anxious at times, the experiences I’ve had globe-trotting have been unforgettable.

Look at a map before you go

I am all for the spontaneity of jumping off a plane into a foreign land and winging it as you go. On the other hand, when you’re traveling solo, it’s extremely helpful to already have a sense of direction and a basic idea of where major landmarks and sights are located. Is the airport north, south, east, or west of the city center? Where are the must-see tourist attractions located? What is within walking distance of your hotel or hostel? It’s really helpful to have an idea of where tourist landmarks, bodies of water, and major museums are for point of reference.  After you book your accommodations, spend some pre-travel time researching what is nearby, how to use the public transit, and what the major streets are in the city. Once you’ve arrived to your destination, you will be the most non-touristy tourist who doesn’t necessarily need a map in hand at all times.

Connect with friends of friends of friends

Put your social media networks to good use by asking people for recommendations about where you’re going. Odds are someone you know will have either been there before, know someone who has, or–better yet–has a friend living there currently. Getting advice from a local is the best way to see a new place when you’re solo, and it might even mean you don’t have to dine or drink alone. When I travel solo I don’t typically experience much nightlife aside from a nice dinner out, but connecting through a mutual friend might mean you have someone to meet you for a beer or introduce you to a fun local spot.

Do a free walking tour

I’ve found that almost every city I’ve visited has some kind of free walking tour (you just tip your guide at the end), which usually begins in the oldest part of the city. These tours are typically given by locals and include off-the-beaten path stops and are filled with adventurous travelers just like you. The free walking tour I did in Arequipa, Peru, made a stop at a coffee roastery that  happened to be owned by an ex-pat from San Francisco who then recommended a place where I had the best ceviche of the trip.  I think walking miles through a city–feeling your feet pounding the cobblestone paths and pavement–is the best way to immerse yourself into the culture and people and make authentic connections.

Know the contact info for the U.S. Embassy and Consulate

Especially when you’re traveling solo, you need to be prepared for worst-case scenarios. Not to be all doom and gloom, but passports get lost or stolen and you could accidentally (or on purpose) get involved with something you shouldn’t. If and when you actually need help, already knowing the location, email, and phone number of the embassy will come in handy. In general, the U.S. embassy can be found in a country’s capital city and the consulate is usually nearby, if not in the same building. The consulate handles all the services a traveler needs when abroad such as passport replacement, help finding a doctor or lawyer, and resolving visa issues. Knowing before you go will put your mind at ease (and your mom’s back home) and help alleviate a panic situation should one arise.

Smile and make eye contact

Make eye contact. Smile. Sounds so simple, right? But since it’s not intuitively part of our everyday lives, it’s hard to flip the switch once we’re on vacation. One of the things I love most about traveling solo is that I am constantly interacting with new people, and when I don’t have a travel companion I often need to rely on the help of strangers. Being genuine and honestly engaged will go a long way with people you encounter and help to detract from any negative stereotypes about foreign travelers. A warm smile and hello translates no matter what language you speak.

Use TripIt

One of the most efficient ways to travel is having all of your confirmations, bookings, and itineraries in one place–without printing a pound of paper. TripIt is a travel app that seamlessly adds all of these travel items into one organized itinerary. You can easily edit and add information, track how much you’re spending, and invite people to view your trip and follow your journey along the way.

5 Things You Should Never Forget When You Glamp

Nothing says “Wet Hot American Summer” vacation like a camping trip to the great outdoors. It never ceases to amaze me how much time, effort, and planning goes into roughing it for a few days, especially since you’re essentially leaving the comfort of your pillow-top mattress and hot running water to be doused in sunscreen, bug repellent, and dripping sweat. My recent glamping excursion to glorious Turlock just east of even gloriouser (not really a word) Modesto was–in one word–HOT. Turlock Lake State Recreation Area was beautiful with shady trees, the cool Tuolumne River, and clean campsites, but it was hot. So hot that at night our tents felt like saunas. Sleeping in a small space when it’s 85 degrees with no breeze is, well, glorious.

Whether you’re a seasoned camper who owns stock in REI or a novice glamper, there are some things you should just never forget when you decide to rough it. Besides the obvious tent, sleeping bag, food, and chairs, you definitely need a few more things that don’t always make the list.

1. Wet wipes

I can’t stress this enough: buy them ALL. These little squares of wet goodness are especially helpful when there isn’t a shower nearby. Or sometimes there is a shower but you don’t where it is until the last day when you’re checking out. Your epic shower fail doesn’t seem so bad when you’ve already scrubbed down with 50 packets of wet wipes.

2. Games

Hopefully your friends will be so naturally hilarious that games aren’t really necessary, but if not, that expanded pack of Cards Against Humanity will come in handy.

3. Pills

Again, bring them ALL. Allergy pills? Pain pills? Vitamins? Yes, yes, and yes. You never know what you might need and what weird allergy will bubble up. And a vitamin might be a great idea if your calorie intake only consists of beer and hot dogs for three days.

4. Rope

This one might seem like the oddest item on the list, but it will be one of the most useful. Rope can double as a clothesline during the evening hours and also act as a tether for all the floating tubes during the day. Not aware of those rapids farther down the river? Stay safe and secure by tying everyone together, along with the floating cooler, so nobody floats away unknowingly.

5. Glow Sticks

Buy the bracelets and the necklaces and put them on everyone–dogs and children included–once the sun goes down. You also might want to put a couple extra on that person encouraging late night beer pong. It will help you find them later if they somehow miss their tent opening. Let’s be honest, glow sticks save lives.

Perspective on the Present

Three months ago I said yes to the most unlikely of jobs. Before the initial phone call even happened I was mentally canceling it. To be honest, I took the call because I could stay in my snuggie on the couch. Zero physical effort. To my surprise the phone interview was great and my interest was piqued. Once the in-person interview date was set, of course that was the week San Francisco decided to dump buckets and buckets of rain. Not familiar with Stormageddon? We thought the world was ending. I figured I had nothing to lose though by wearing rain boots to an interview and off I went. After an hour and a half and three conversations later, I had that gut feeling. It was the same feeling I had when I got the email telling me I was moving to Sweden for three months. And the same feeling when I said yes to going to Uganda last fall. Change was happening; life was shifting again.

Never had I imagined when I was laid off from a job in publishing that I would end up in real estate. That wasn’t ever on my radar. But I made a conscious decision at the end of 2014 to pursue something totally new. And to me, something “new” was open for definition. I didn’t want to be pigeon-holed into publishing, even though it was what I loved and all I had known for eight years. It was a terrifying decision and one that I didn’t take lightly.

I prayed about it.

I made pro/con lists.

I hiked.

I prayed some more.

I didn’t want to be a quitter. Was pursuing something new the easy way out? Was it the hard way out? Although new pursuits seem exciting, the process of learning a new industry is daunting. It’s scary. Failure is real. But to me, the scariest thing of all was never feeling scared or never having doubts. If you never evaluate what you want or what other options are out there, how can you know if you’re on the right path? Paths can converge and diverge, ebb and flow. Moments of loss can twist and turn so many ways until, eventually, you find perspective and see the purpose. And that is a beautiful thing.

I’m Going Back to Africa

 

Nine years ago I spent 17 days in the country of Namibia. I first heard about the Africa trip on a Sunday morning in early 2005 at Rock Harbor Church in Costa Mesa. It was one of those moments where I knew my life was about to radically change. I didn’t immediately feel like I should go to Africa. It wasn’t something I had ever really considered before. So, I prayed about what this trip meant for my life, and in November 2005 I traveled halfway across the world. I experienced heartbreak and joy, miracles and sadness, all among people who suffered beyond my comprehension. Yet they unselfishly gave of themselves—physically, emotionally, and spiritually—and lived with hope. The kind of hope that can only spring forth from watching your loved ones die from AIDS. The kind of hope that can only be realized from malnutrition and extreme hunger. The kind of hope that these people find in Jesus. It was the most eye-opening experience of my life. When I left Africa almost a decade ago, I was forever in love and filled with a passion for the people and culture. I knew I would be back one day. So when I was sitting in Epic church on a Sunday a few months ago,  my heart stirred at the mention of a trip to Uganda—and I knew it was a moment that would change my life again. On November 4, 2014, I am traveling back to Africa with a team of five people from Epic Church. I’m excited, nervous, anxious, and hopeful about the experiences that lie ahead. But what I do know is that God provides, God loves, and we are all called to step outside our comfort zones.

What will I be doing?
Epic Church partners with United Christian Centre in Kampala, Uganda, and Compassion International. This is the third year that Epic has traveled to Uganda to serve with UCC. We will be serving at the Compassion Project, in the school, and doing other outreach and projects in the community.

Compassion International exists as a Christian child advocacy ministry that releases children from spiritual, economic, social, and physical poverty and enables them to become responsible and fulfilled adults. Compassion International currently helps more than 1.3 million children in 26 different countries. I am sponsoring an eight-year-old boy named Jovic, and during my time in Uganda I will be able to meet him and his family!

How can you help support me?
Prayer! Please pray for our team as we prepare to go. Please pray for our travel safety before and during. I am also raising money to fund this trip, and if you feel led to contribute you can do so via the PayPal link below. Your contributions are much appreciated, but your thoughts and prayers are the biggest support. I thank you in advance for any way you feel compelled to walk beside me in this adventure.

 

The best woman I know

I knew her before I really knew her. She fed me, clothed me, and gave me shelter. She held my hand when I couldn’t stand on my own. She helped me read and write and showed up for every school function. She prayed for me every day.

I knew her when I was a teenager. She gave me a curfew, taught me to value myself, encouraged my independence, and struggled with it all the same. Her arms were open for every hug, ready to embrace joy and wipe away tears. She showed me how to be strong and was my voice of reason. She prayed for me every day.

I knew her in my twenties. She talked to me about life and love. She taught me humility and the worth of a sincere apology. She told me to travel and experience life and worried about me all the same. We talked for hours about hopes and dreams and she became my best friend. She prayed for me every day.

I know her now. I can be her voice of reason only because she was mine. I am her biggest cheerleader only because she was mine.  I hold her hand when life gets hard because she held mine. I pray for her every day.

She is my mother.

She is the best woman I know.

Happy Mother’s Day to my mom and to all of the other selfless and devoted women who nurture their sons and daughters every day of the year.

5 Reasons San Franciscans Tolerate Gloomy Weather

Yeah, we know, weather is always a topic in San Francisco. The bright, sunny days feel euphoric and the dreaded we-will-never-see-the-sun-again days seem to drag on and on and on. But if we are completely honest about it, the so-called “horrible weather” is actually a good thing—dare I say I even enjoy it sometimes? So, we tolerate the gloomy weather because there are actually some valid reasons to embrace non-sunny days.

1. Seeing over hills. It’s bad enough that you have to avoid a swerving MUNI and those tiny yellow cars that shout out directions to the directionally challenged tourist. Now you have to throttle your car up and over a hill all while blind from the glaring rays from a hot sun? No thanks. We welcome Karl the Fog.

2. Accidentally stepping in squishy piles. The glare of a bright, shining sun is the perfect way to accidentally step into a steaming pile of who knows what. And it’s even worse when you talked yourself into those cute open-toed sandals because being fashionable is way more important than being warm…and clean. 

3. Sunburns. We aren’t consistently tan. But we’ve accepted it. So when the sun does actually come out, we are so terrified of burning that we overuse the SPF 50 sunscreen made for babies. And the funny thing is we still burn. So…there’s that. 

4. Survival skills. Why do you think everyone in SF carries a backpack? It’s not just to transport a packed lunch and the latest David Sedaris book—it’s a survival kit. Everyone knows you never leave the house without a light jacket and a scarf. Throw in a beanie and an extra flannel for good measure. If there’s one thing we know, it’s layers, layers, layers. Oh, and don’t forget your water bottle and recyclable grocery bag. At all costs, you must avoid the scornful look from the checkout clerk when you meekly ask for a paper bag. Because we have to constantly be prepared for rapidly changing weather, we’d like to think our survival skills are on par. Zombie attack? Bring it on.

5. Productivity. If we had too many warm and sunny days, there is a high possibility that techy coders would forgo hackathons and 12-hour workdays for tall boys in the park and copious amounts of Bi-Rite ice cream. Then who would develop all the apps necessary for living a real, functioning life? 

Once upon a time in Peru…

The more I travel, the more I want to travel. It’s a ripple effect with a tidal wave outcome. Adventure is addicting. For me, it’s not just about seeing old ruins or touring dusty museums—traveling is about connecting to humanity, discovering cultures unlike my own, and appreciating the people and places I encounter along the way.

Honestly, the most pleasantly surprising discovery during my 10 days in Peru was that the people were welcoming and warm. Peru is breathtakingly beautiful with high mountain peaks, grass valleys, mountainside waterfalls, and desert plains. Words can’t even begin to describe the beauty, and while I can’t recount every single experience, I will try to paint a few snapshots from my trip.

Dancing in the rain: Our jalopy of a van pulled up in the pouring rain to a rundown looking hostel in Santa Theresa. I’d just biked 29 miles downhill at the highest elevation I had ever experienced, and the next day would be filled with zip lining and an 8.5-mile hike. I felt so exhausted but completely alive at the same time. I jumped out of the van covered in my poncho and immediately heard music and cheering. Our guide Victor told us it was the last night of Carnaval and a celebration was happening in the town square. We settled into our rooms and everyone decided to check out the hot springs, but I politely made excuses and stayed behind at the hostel. I could soak in a warm bath anytime—Carnaval in a small Peruvian town was something I couldn’t miss. I once again donned my rain poncho, stuck some money in my pocket, and set out to find a party. I followed the music a few blocks and easily found the celebration in what looked to be the sports center. Up on the hill was a large stage with a full band and down below white tents were set up with people huddled underneath. Children splashed in the puddles, elderly adults watched from the bleachers, and circles of young people danced around buckets of beers. I smiled warmly at the searching eyes and looks I received, but everyone was friendly and inviting. As I sipped a local beer, I noticed for the first time the rows of shanty houses lining the hillside. The tin roofs sagged and mud ran down the dirt paths, yet the people of this quaint town celebrated with joy. And as I danced with some locals, smiled at the soaking wet children, and enjoyed the authentic Andean music, I knew I was experiencing something special.

Sunrise at Machu Picchu: There is something magical and eery about standing among an ancient civilization as the sun rises and the mist hovers above the river. The 4am wakeup and 5am bus ride up the mountain from Aguas Calientes was well worth the surreal view of Machu Picchu as the sun peeked over the Andes Mountains. After our guide Victor walked us around the ruins and gave us a detailed history of the Inka people, I anxiously made my way toward the Huaynapicchu Mountain. There are only 400 people a day allowed to hike this trail straight up the mountain because of the treacherous climb and one-way-up-same-way-down path. Although I was scared and doubted that I should really do the hike, I was convinced I would regret backing out—and that was enough to make me do it. The next 50 minutes were the most physically exhausting of my life, and there were times when I wanted to quit. But as I shimmied through a narrow cave and climbed the last shaky ladder to the very top, I was overwhelmed with accomplishment and rewarded with the best view I’ve ever seen. At 8,900 feet above sea level, it was the highest peak I’d climbed—and it was the first time I had hiked 1,200 feet straight up in under an hour. It turned out the worst part of the hike was the way down, with my shaky legs and uneven rocks to climb over all while letting people pass me on the narrow trail. But looking back, Huaynapicchu was definitely a highlight of the trip and I’m so glad I didn’t back down.

 

 

View of Cusco from my AirBnB room.

View of Historic Cusco (Cusco, Peru)

Cristo Blanco (Cusco, Peru)

Sacsayhuaman Ruins. (Cusco, Peru)

Sacsayhuaman Ruins. (Cusco, Peru)

Sacsayhuaman Ruins. (Cusco, Peru)

My first llama sighting. (Cusco, Peru)

Waterfall near the Sacsayhuaman Ruins. (Cusco, Peru)

Cathedral of Santo Domingo. (Cusco, Peru)

Inka stone lines the walls of this beautiful passageway. (Cusco, Peru)

Little lamb. (Cusco, Peru)

Plaza de Armas (Cusco, Peru)

Plaza de Armas (Cusco, Peru)

San Francisco Plaza (Cusco, Peru)

Cuzco Countryside (Cusco, Peru)

Quick stop in Ollantaytambo before the bike ride. (Cuzco, Peru)

Bikes! (Cuzco, Peru)

View from the top of Yayamari Mountain during the 29-mile ride. (Cuzco, Peru)

Yayamari Mountain (Cuzco, Peru)

Urubamba River (Cuzco, Peru)

Inka Face Paint (Cuzco, Peru)

Last night of Carnaval celebration in Santa Theresa (Santa Theresa, Peru)

Delicious pisco (Santa Theresa, Peru)

Tour group pisco shots! (Santa Theresa, Peru)

Early morning wakeup before ziplining. (Santa Theresa, Peru)

Ziplining with Inka Flyer. (Santa Theresa, Peru)

Suspension bridge after ziplining. (Santa Theresa, Peru)

Waterfall from the middle of a mountain near the Hydro Electric Plant. (Cuzco, Peru)

Scenery on the 8.5-mile trek. (Aguas Calientes, Peru)

Mariposas (Aguas Calientes, Peru)

Lomo Saltado for lunch. (Aguas Calientes, Peru)

Peruvian pig (Aguas Calientes, Peru)

Dirty pigs (Aguas Calientes, Peru)

Post-lunch hammock hangout. (Aguas Calientes, Peru)

We made it! (Aguas Calientes, Peru)

The quaint town at the base of Machu Picchu. (Aguas Calientes, Peru)

(Aguas Calientes, Peru)

Machu Picchu sunrise. (Machu Picchu, Peru)

Epic moment. (Machu Picchu, Peru)

We look pretty good for 6:30am. (Machu Picchu, Peru)

(Machu Picchu, Peru)

Mist rising over the ruins. (Machu Picchu, Peru)

Residential section of the ruins. (Machu Picchu, Peru)

Llama! (Machu Picchu, Peru)

Huaynapicchu view. (Huaynapicchu, Peru)

I almost turned back before I even started. (Huaynapicchu, Peru)

The rocky path straight up the mountain. (Huaynapicchu, Peru)

Don’t look down! (Huaynapicchu, Peru)

(Machu Picchu, Peru)

So beautiful. (Machu Picchu, Peru)

Afternoon view of the ruins. (Machu Picchu, Peru)

View of La Raya Pass from the Inka Express Bus to Puno. (Eastern Andes, Peru)

(Pukara, Peru)

(Andahuaylillas, Peru)

Center of the city. (Puno, Peru)

(Uros Islands, Lake Titikaka)

Demonstration on how the floating islands are made from reeds. (Uros Islands, Lake Titikaka)

Friendly family on our visit to Uros Islands. (Lake Titikaka)

I’m keeping guard from the watch tower. (Uros Islands, Lake Titikaka)

Beautiful clouds over the islands. (Uros Islands, Lake Titikaka)

(Uros Islands, Lake Titikaka)

(Uros Islands, Lake Titikaka)

Shoreline. (Taquile Island, Lake Titikaka)

(Taquile Island, Lake Titikaka)

Cow. (Taquile Island, Lake Titikaka)

(Taquile Island, Lake Titikaka)

(Taquile Island, Lake Titikaka)

Taquile Island, Lake Titikaka)

My view during lunch. (Taquile Island, Lake Titikaka)

Enjoying a day on the lake. (Taquile Island, Lake Titikaka)

Folklore dancing and dinner show. (Puno, Peru)

Delicious Alpaca. (Puno, Peru)

Balcones de Puno dinner show. (Puno, Peru)

Desert terrain on the way to Arequipa.

Monasterio de Santa Catalina. (Arequipa, Peru)

Tortugas at the Happy Jungle Park. (Arequipa, Peru)

Happy Jungle Park. (Arequipa, Peru)

Piles of hair at Alpaca World. (Arequipa, Peru)

Finished Alpaca yarn. (Arequipa, Peru)

(Arequipa, Peru)

(Arequipa, Peru)

Miradores. (Arequipa, Peru)

Lunching at the local spot–El Cebillano. (Arequipa, Peru)

Ceviche. (Arequipa, Peru)

Skyline before leaving Peru. (Arequipa, Peru)

Two-year itch

It has been six years since I’ve lived anywhere longer than two years. And for the first 28 years of my life I lived in Orange County, savoring a comfortable lifestyle in the cocoon of the Orange County bubble. Then, two weeks after graduating college, I ventured out on my own in search of a brave new world—4 miles from my parents in a two-bedroom apartment in a gated complex, just close enough to still bring laundry home when I ran out of quarters. After a few compelling reasons, five months later I moved a whole 17 miles farther north with the same roommate in a place that just so happened to be a 20-minute bike ride to the beach. And because that just wasn’t close enough to the sand, two years later I moved 30 miles south to a sleepy beach town into my own one-bedroom bungalow a mere 4 blocks from the crashing waves. Now, on the two-year anniversary of my move to San Francisco, I’m reflecting on the path that brought me here. I was enticed to The City by the Bay for a job in book publishing, but really what now holds me here is so much more. But I’d be lying if I said the itch to move and chase change wasn’t pulling at me, although I’m fighting the urge to find the so-called next best thing and just…be. Be in the city that feels so overwhelmingly crowded sometimes that I almost find it hard to breathe. Be in the city where neighborhoods become defined not just by street signs, but by the smells permeating from well-known eateries, fresh-brewed coffee from the latest barista, and perhaps the unidentifiable pile of mush in the middle of the sidewalk. Be in the city that actually does sleep, and in fact embraces weekend snoozing because you come to realize that brunch is a way of life, not just a meal. Be in the city that houses the richest and the poorest, creating a vast melting pot of eclectic cultures, diverse personalities, and conflicting perspectives. I honestly never really dreamed I would feel settled in a city this size, and at best I hoped to be a contributing transient passing through. But at the two-year threshold, San Francisco feels like home—it is home, at least for now—and I owe that to every person I’ve been blessed to meet in the last 24 months. And the happiest realization for me is knowing that I’m going to stay for a while, if only because I just don’t have it in me to pack boxes and drive a Uhaul up and down the infamous hills. So, happy anniversary, San Francisco, you’re one of the best relationships I’ve ever embarked on and I can’t wait to see what else is ahead.

Corona Heights hike in San Francisco

Cheers to “wordy thirty”

Remember that game “MASH” you played as a kid? You’d list off places you wanted to live, the job you wanted to have, and the boy or girl you thought you’d marry and live happily ever after with.  In the end after all the tallying, your life was planned out on a simple piece of paper, and oh the future seemed so bright. And if you weren’t completely satisfied with the number of kids you were having or the location of your honeymoon, a little altering (cheating) of the outcome wasn’t out of the question. How ironic it seemed like a fun idea to plan my whole life when the most important thing to me was how many slap bracelets I owned.

Now, with 30 staring me down and two decades gone by, it’s obviously quite clear that life is more than a game of MASH. It’s so much scarier in real life when getting older is a reality you can’t deny. But what’s so scary? Accomplishing goals? Knowing yourself better? Nurturing relationships and friendships? Because the truth is all of those things happen once you’re older and you’ve gained wisdom from the peaks and valleys of life…perhaps lows so deep you don’t know if you’ll ever get out. But you do. And you’re better for it. And I have my formative twenties to thank for that. Without them I wouldn’t be entering my thirties with the reality that I know my worth in every sense of the word: professionally, relationally, and spiritually. So, I’m ready to say goodbye to my twenties, the decade that allowed me to make mistakes, be unsure about myself, and learn the hard way about who to trust.

I know everyone says your thirties are the best time of your life, and I’m a firm believer that anything is what you make it. So, I’m going to try and make the most of every moment, embrace the here and now, and fully own the big decisions to come. And at the end of the day, age is just a number.

Cheers to “wordy thirty”…maybe I will get my book written this decade!

 

“It’s not what you do, it’s how you do it. It’s not what you see, it’s how you look at it. It’s not how your life is, it’s how you live it.”
—Unknown