The Journal Begins at Home

Let’s go back in time, shall we?

January 3, 2014:

My wonderful then-boyfriend took me to see The Secret Life of Walter Mitty at a late late showing. As a postgrad who travels too much to stomach paying rent for a shabby apartment I would hardly see, I have the luxury of an awkward curfew set by my father, and I was wrecking it like Miley Cyrus. Luckily, I called and my curfew was banished for the night. *crickets chirping*

The movie was beautiful! A coworker who happened to come out of the theatre as we were going in said it was pretty trippy, but I fell in love with the cinematography and storyline. I’m a hermit who had worked all day and liked to be in bed by 10pm albeit Friday night, so it had to be a good movie to keep me awake, with my bed and fuzzy socks calling my name, and all. The scenes in Iceland enthralled me and I knew I had to add it to my bucket list of places to visit. I didn’t know when I would go, but I knew it would happen. Preferably before I turned 30. Because I’m getting old.

2014 took me to Ireland, Peru, and across America a couple of times, but Iceland wasn’t in the cards; 2015, however, looked very promising. After quitting my office job a couple of weeks after watching Walter Mitty (the date night was in celebration of turning in my two-week notice), I spent the rest of year being ridiculous, moving around America, and trying to decide what I wanted to do with my life… It’s been more than a year, and I am even more lost as to what I want to do. All I know is that I want to travel. So this year, as my gap year budget washes away, I decided to travel.

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