Today I checked my sitemeter and noticed I had a referral from vagabonding.net, a travel website by Rolf Potts originally based off of his book Vagabonding. This made me proud. Rolf Potts is one of the most well-known travel writers in the vagabond world, and to be linked by his website means that my travel blog must be half decent. I haven't posted anything amazing on this blog for about a year now. Mostly, this is because I have been in the U.S. Even though I have been traveling a little bit around the country, I have not been inspired to write like when I was abroad. However, this link has spurred a little encouragement to start writing again. So this time, when I say I will write soon, I mean it.
Check out my link on vagabonging.net:
http://vagabonding.net/resources/chap6.html
Also, I have been updating my photoblog with some of my old photgraphs that I haven't posted yet. Check those out at http://travelerphotos.blogspot.com
2/05/2010
11/15/2009
More to Come
More will be coming very shortly......I will be spending Thanksgiving week at a place with internet, something I have been seriously lacking for the past couple of months....stay posted.
8/14/2009
New Hope is Still Cool???
I got two comments on my post about New Hope. Obviously some shop owners were a little disgruntled by my reviews.... Anyway, I'd like to post them, because these people do care about New Hope, and do care about retaining the old hipness of the little funky town. I hope that anyone traveling to New Hope will take these people's advice and maybe stop by their stores...
I still have to say, that despite the great efforts of people like this, New Hope is still being gentrified... I know there are still the funky shops in the "back allys," but the hip vibe and artsy appeal of New Hope should never be shoved into the back alleys.
Thanks for commenting!
Superkind has left a new comment on your post "Travel to New Hope, PA":
Night Owl Vintage clothing is now Night Bird Vintage clothing and is located at 12 West Mechanic St. New Hope. It is owned by the same great hippie dude that has had it for decades.
I own a business in New Hope, and let me tell you it is VERY hard to survive! People would rather buy things at the mall or online. Independently owned businesses everywhere are dying.
Love Saves the Day will refund you your 20 cents when you leave. They charge mostly as a joke because people treat the store as a museum, they want to look but have no interest in actually buying anything. Its pretty hard to make a profit that way!
The rents were too high for the used record store and the used book store. How many $5- alblums do you have to sell to make $2000 a month just for rent, never mind taxes, utilities, employees, etc.
The book store has moved to Trenton.
El Taco Loco has been in New Hope for over 20 years, and I find that it is typical for Tex Mex. Down the street there is an amazing Mexican place called the Blue Tortilla.
Next time ask a local shopkeeper to recommend you to their favorite restaurant! After all since we are here all the time we know the best places :-)
Oftentimes our memories of the past are made golden, and reality doesn't measure up.
New Hope still has funky back allys, and if you go up the side streets there are still cool shops filled with stuff you can't find at the mall. Clearly you missed the mortuary memoribilia and Victorian oddities shop, which is across the street from a funky punk rock shop, a vintage and retro shop, next to a hippie shop and above Night Bird Vintage.
You can thank wealthy developers for building condos and jacking property values. Unfortunately you cannot pass laws saying one kind of person is allowed to buy property or open businesses and another kind of person isn't.
If people want places like New Hope to flourish they have to support them! Otherwise we will all go away and be replaced by super wallmarts and such.
Don't be so quick to write New Hope off! Nothing stays the same after all!
____________________________________________________________
meshell has left a new comment on your post "Travel to New Hope, PA":
Well..I am sorry you didn't enjoy your visit to New Hope.The economy is hitting us hard here. Obviously, you didn't visit my shop on Mechanic Street called God save the Qweens. Perhaps if you would have walked up to it,you would have enjoyed picking through my shop, filled with awesome rock and roll clothes for infants to adults,vintage toys,collectibles,costuming,punk rock,even beautiful handblown glass by an incredible local glassblower.etc. There is something in my store for everyone. And then, you would have noticed that your famed "boarded up" vintage clothing store had moved to a bigger location right across the street.You also would have noticed an authentic old skool curio shop filled with interesting items from all the way back to the victorian age...also a newly added antique store...a mug shop,a beauty store, a corset shop and much more... so I hope you give New Hope one more chance...don't let 1 bad meal and a 20 cent entrance fee leave an additional bad taste in your mouth...you just need to take the time to shop the side streets...you just never know what you will find...enjoy...
meshell
owner of
god save the qweens
13 w mechanic st
new hope,pa 18938
I still have to say, that despite the great efforts of people like this, New Hope is still being gentrified... I know there are still the funky shops in the "back allys," but the hip vibe and artsy appeal of New Hope should never be shoved into the back alleys.
Thanks for commenting!
Superkind has left a new comment on your post "Travel to New Hope, PA":
Night Owl Vintage clothing is now Night Bird Vintage clothing and is located at 12 West Mechanic St. New Hope. It is owned by the same great hippie dude that has had it for decades.
I own a business in New Hope, and let me tell you it is VERY hard to survive! People would rather buy things at the mall or online. Independently owned businesses everywhere are dying.
Love Saves the Day will refund you your 20 cents when you leave. They charge mostly as a joke because people treat the store as a museum, they want to look but have no interest in actually buying anything. Its pretty hard to make a profit that way!
The rents were too high for the used record store and the used book store. How many $5- alblums do you have to sell to make $2000 a month just for rent, never mind taxes, utilities, employees, etc.
The book store has moved to Trenton.
El Taco Loco has been in New Hope for over 20 years, and I find that it is typical for Tex Mex. Down the street there is an amazing Mexican place called the Blue Tortilla.
Next time ask a local shopkeeper to recommend you to their favorite restaurant! After all since we are here all the time we know the best places :-)
Oftentimes our memories of the past are made golden, and reality doesn't measure up.
New Hope still has funky back allys, and if you go up the side streets there are still cool shops filled with stuff you can't find at the mall. Clearly you missed the mortuary memoribilia and Victorian oddities shop, which is across the street from a funky punk rock shop, a vintage and retro shop, next to a hippie shop and above Night Bird Vintage.
You can thank wealthy developers for building condos and jacking property values. Unfortunately you cannot pass laws saying one kind of person is allowed to buy property or open businesses and another kind of person isn't.
If people want places like New Hope to flourish they have to support them! Otherwise we will all go away and be replaced by super wallmarts and such.
Don't be so quick to write New Hope off! Nothing stays the same after all!
____________________________________________________________
meshell has left a new comment on your post "Travel to New Hope, PA":
Well..I am sorry you didn't enjoy your visit to New Hope.The economy is hitting us hard here. Obviously, you didn't visit my shop on Mechanic Street called God save the Qweens. Perhaps if you would have walked up to it,you would have enjoyed picking through my shop, filled with awesome rock and roll clothes for infants to adults,vintage toys,collectibles,costuming,punk rock,even beautiful handblown glass by an incredible local glassblower.etc. There is something in my store for everyone. And then, you would have noticed that your famed "boarded up" vintage clothing store had moved to a bigger location right across the street.You also would have noticed an authentic old skool curio shop filled with interesting items from all the way back to the victorian age...also a newly added antique store...a mug shop,a beauty store, a corset shop and much more... so I hope you give New Hope one more chance...don't let 1 bad meal and a 20 cent entrance fee leave an additional bad taste in your mouth...you just need to take the time to shop the side streets...you just never know what you will find...enjoy...
meshell
owner of
god save the qweens
13 w mechanic st
new hope,pa 18938
8/06/2009
Travel Book Review: Holy Cow
The first time I started reading Holy Cow by Sarah MacDonald was in 2006, in the summer before I left for India. I never finished it though. When I read it I was disturbed by her initial hatred of India. She talked of the smog and rickshaw drivers and dirt and begging and bargaining and hassle of every day life there. I didn't believe her.
When I was in Costa Rica the year before I had met a lot of people who hated it, who had awful experiences there, who were in constant battle with the country/ culture. On the other hand, I had a great experience, I loved it, and to this day it is still one of my favorite places in the world. Because of this, I thought I could conquer India, that I could overcome the horribleness that many Western travelers experience. I had always wanted to go to India while growing up and I was determined to love it.
However, when I got there, I realized it was just too much. I couldn't handle it, and like MacDonald, I also became physically ill and depressed and hassled by the culture. I was so eager to run away, that I left on the last day of classes. I handed in my final revisions of my school work and caught a rickshaw to the airport. Despite my commitment to stay for a year, and my scholarship I had received to study there, I just couldn't handle it.
Since then I have always regretted not pushing through. I have always regretted not overcoming that challenge.
Now I am reading Holy Cow again, and loving it. I feel like I need to push through the reading, like somehow if I do that, then eventually I will be able to push through another round of India. I am more equipped (mentally and emotionally) to deal with that country now, and as I read her story, my yearning to go back is only growing. By the end of the book MacDonald has acquired a deep love for India, and a rewarding comfort living within the culture.
My boyfriend is going to India for a few weeks this winter. I have to stay in the USA and work for a couple months, but hopefully by December I will have enough money saved to embark on another journey through India. Out of all of the countries I have traveled to, I think my desire to return to India is the greatest, because I know it is the most challenging country I have been to....a challenge I want to overcome.
When I was in Costa Rica the year before I had met a lot of people who hated it, who had awful experiences there, who were in constant battle with the country/ culture. On the other hand, I had a great experience, I loved it, and to this day it is still one of my favorite places in the world. Because of this, I thought I could conquer India, that I could overcome the horribleness that many Western travelers experience. I had always wanted to go to India while growing up and I was determined to love it.
However, when I got there, I realized it was just too much. I couldn't handle it, and like MacDonald, I also became physically ill and depressed and hassled by the culture. I was so eager to run away, that I left on the last day of classes. I handed in my final revisions of my school work and caught a rickshaw to the airport. Despite my commitment to stay for a year, and my scholarship I had received to study there, I just couldn't handle it.
Since then I have always regretted not pushing through. I have always regretted not overcoming that challenge.
Now I am reading Holy Cow again, and loving it. I feel like I need to push through the reading, like somehow if I do that, then eventually I will be able to push through another round of India. I am more equipped (mentally and emotionally) to deal with that country now, and as I read her story, my yearning to go back is only growing. By the end of the book MacDonald has acquired a deep love for India, and a rewarding comfort living within the culture.
My boyfriend is going to India for a few weeks this winter. I have to stay in the USA and work for a couple months, but hopefully by December I will have enough money saved to embark on another journey through India. Out of all of the countries I have traveled to, I think my desire to return to India is the greatest, because I know it is the most challenging country I have been to....a challenge I want to overcome.
7/25/2009
Travel Blogs are Weird
I think blogging is a little bit weird, or maybe just the type of blogging one does. I write a travel blog. It is usually a non-fiction first person narrative. This is my favorite sort of writing, but often it is very personal. I write about places where I am and activities that I am doing. Other people have travel blogs that are more like travel guides and reviews. Maybe that is more effective. I think first person narratives are more interesting though.
Back to the point. Blogs are kind of creepy. Anybody in the entire world can read my blog and look at my pictures. If you Google search my name, you will find links to my blog. This makes an easy target for stalking. Everyone, everywhere can know where I am. Sometimes people who I don’t necessarily want to know what I doing know where I am.
I have a site meter on my blog to see where people are entering my blog and what they are searching for when they find my blog. Sometimes it is disturbing to see what people are looking for. One of my most popular pages on my photo blog is under the title “trash cans and school girls.” When I posted on “Women with armpit hair,” my blog traffic instantly increased by about 50 people a day. This is weirdo stuff.
Now that I am applying for jobs I wonder how much of this employers may be looking at.
Back to the point. Blogs are kind of creepy. Anybody in the entire world can read my blog and look at my pictures. If you Google search my name, you will find links to my blog. This makes an easy target for stalking. Everyone, everywhere can know where I am. Sometimes people who I don’t necessarily want to know what I doing know where I am.
I have a site meter on my blog to see where people are entering my blog and what they are searching for when they find my blog. Sometimes it is disturbing to see what people are looking for. One of my most popular pages on my photo blog is under the title “trash cans and school girls.” When I posted on “Women with armpit hair,” my blog traffic instantly increased by about 50 people a day. This is weirdo stuff.
Now that I am applying for jobs I wonder how much of this employers may be looking at.
7/22/2009
Travel to New Hope, PA
Despite the weather forecast of rain and thunderstorms all weekend, Saturday turned out to be a gorgeous sun-filled day. I peeled back the top of my convertible Volkswagen Cabriolet and hit the road, heading towards New Hope. In high school this was one of my favorite places to go, often taking day trips there with my mother, especially during my senior year of high school when I was homeschooled. New Hope is a little hippie haven on the PA/ NJ border. The streets are lined with quaint ancient buildings with back alleys leading to a run-down canal and there’s an old train line where tourists can ride up and down the tracks in antique cars. New Hope is famous for its antique stores and vintage clothing shops and boutiques offering treasures from every corner of the world. With its close proximity to Philly and New York, the artsy urbanites would flock here to go antiquing and many transplanted to open up art galleries or studios. I should say….this is how it used to be.
I arrived in the early afternoon to streets packed with tourists in big hats and khaki shorts. To my dismay, New Hope was looking a little less quaint. I cruised around looking for parking, and finally settled on a lot near the train where a new mall had been constructed. I was starving and thirsty from the drive so I jumped into the first restaurant I passed, a Tex/Mex place. I liked the decorations with orange and yellow and blue paint, Aztec calendar mandalas covering the walls, and a particularly awesome sculpture of a Mexican mariachi drunken skeleton. I ordered a taco salad (after one caught my eye coming out of the kitchen) and sat down to wait, sucking down a rootbeer.
My meal came, a big fried tortilla bowl with rice, refried beans, lettuce, tomato, cheese, sour cream, and guacamole. I doused it with salsa verde and munched a few intermittent pickled peppers (my favorite). Half way through the plate I couldn’t eat anymore. The food was mediocre, and maybe Taco Bell would have even been better. I surveyed the tables of other customers and realized everyone had a variation of these same ingredients. Nothing different, nothing special, nothing that looked any better. I guess that’s how Tex/Mex places are. The meal left me feeling full and my stomach never quite settled the food.
I stepped out into the hot sunshine. The restaurant was right next to a vintage clothing shop I use to like. It was closed, boarded up and all. I turned the corner and headed towards my favorite record shop. I had once gotten a Patti Smith record there and a Souxsie and the Banshees album for about 5 bucks. I found it also closed. Things were looking down, and my food still felt like it was bubbling up into my throat.
I headed towards the river, and the main drag. The sidewalks were swarmed with summer tourists, fat old men and shi-shi women. A dirty hippie decked in mismatched tye-dye was spotted every couple of blocks through the drone of people. The roads were at a dead stand-still with traffic. Solitary men with one ear pierced blasted 80’s dance music from their convertible Porsches and BMWs and a meaner sort of men dressed in leather chugged by on motorcycles, out to enjoy the verdant ride by the river down route 202.
I reached the corner, and to my dismay the famed vintage/ curio/ novelty shop was now charging customers 20 cents to enter. The shop windows were lined with signs reading “No Photos.” This every inch of this shop is cluttered with curious objects, antique wedding dresses, fishnet stockings, old metal lunch boxes, dirty playing cards, punk rock buttons, and other little trinket treasures. Somewhere they must have changed their politics, and were now charging people money to enter. I thought this absolutely absurd and refused to go in. Why would a shop charge people an entrance fee? This just seemed greedy.
I walked further down, and browsed the 500 shops all called “Shop of India” and all selling the same few brass statues of Hindu gods, Nag Champa incense and hippie clothing from India that Indians don’t actually wear. Some time someone must have gotten a huge shipment of these items, and never restocked or tried to find anything more unique.
After perusing shop after shop, I found one man who had imported a ton of knick-knacks from Bali. One sculpture stuck out as a jewel among the rest of the rubbish; a wooden image of Hanuman, meticulously carved in detail to show each and every hair.
I searched up and downs the streets for a used book store that use to have excellent deals, but this too had been swallowed up by the new commerce of New Hope. This was the final straw. New Hope was no longer for me. All the things I had loved about the place were gone. All had been replaced with pricey kitschy tourist shops. The artist seemed like ghosts, and the crafts were all cheap, imported, mass-produced. I guess an end comes to everything good. I know for sure I have no desire to go back to New Hope.
I arrived in the early afternoon to streets packed with tourists in big hats and khaki shorts. To my dismay, New Hope was looking a little less quaint. I cruised around looking for parking, and finally settled on a lot near the train where a new mall had been constructed. I was starving and thirsty from the drive so I jumped into the first restaurant I passed, a Tex/Mex place. I liked the decorations with orange and yellow and blue paint, Aztec calendar mandalas covering the walls, and a particularly awesome sculpture of a Mexican mariachi drunken skeleton. I ordered a taco salad (after one caught my eye coming out of the kitchen) and sat down to wait, sucking down a rootbeer.
My meal came, a big fried tortilla bowl with rice, refried beans, lettuce, tomato, cheese, sour cream, and guacamole. I doused it with salsa verde and munched a few intermittent pickled peppers (my favorite). Half way through the plate I couldn’t eat anymore. The food was mediocre, and maybe Taco Bell would have even been better. I surveyed the tables of other customers and realized everyone had a variation of these same ingredients. Nothing different, nothing special, nothing that looked any better. I guess that’s how Tex/Mex places are. The meal left me feeling full and my stomach never quite settled the food.
I stepped out into the hot sunshine. The restaurant was right next to a vintage clothing shop I use to like. It was closed, boarded up and all. I turned the corner and headed towards my favorite record shop. I had once gotten a Patti Smith record there and a Souxsie and the Banshees album for about 5 bucks. I found it also closed. Things were looking down, and my food still felt like it was bubbling up into my throat.
I headed towards the river, and the main drag. The sidewalks were swarmed with summer tourists, fat old men and shi-shi women. A dirty hippie decked in mismatched tye-dye was spotted every couple of blocks through the drone of people. The roads were at a dead stand-still with traffic. Solitary men with one ear pierced blasted 80’s dance music from their convertible Porsches and BMWs and a meaner sort of men dressed in leather chugged by on motorcycles, out to enjoy the verdant ride by the river down route 202.
I reached the corner, and to my dismay the famed vintage/ curio/ novelty shop was now charging customers 20 cents to enter. The shop windows were lined with signs reading “No Photos.” This every inch of this shop is cluttered with curious objects, antique wedding dresses, fishnet stockings, old metal lunch boxes, dirty playing cards, punk rock buttons, and other little trinket treasures. Somewhere they must have changed their politics, and were now charging people money to enter. I thought this absolutely absurd and refused to go in. Why would a shop charge people an entrance fee? This just seemed greedy.
I walked further down, and browsed the 500 shops all called “Shop of India” and all selling the same few brass statues of Hindu gods, Nag Champa incense and hippie clothing from India that Indians don’t actually wear. Some time someone must have gotten a huge shipment of these items, and never restocked or tried to find anything more unique.
After perusing shop after shop, I found one man who had imported a ton of knick-knacks from Bali. One sculpture stuck out as a jewel among the rest of the rubbish; a wooden image of Hanuman, meticulously carved in detail to show each and every hair.
I searched up and downs the streets for a used book store that use to have excellent deals, but this too had been swallowed up by the new commerce of New Hope. This was the final straw. New Hope was no longer for me. All the things I had loved about the place were gone. All had been replaced with pricey kitschy tourist shops. The artist seemed like ghosts, and the crafts were all cheap, imported, mass-produced. I guess an end comes to everything good. I know for sure I have no desire to go back to New Hope.
7/21/2009
Little India in New Jersey, USA
Missing India led me to Little India in New Jersey, searching for a meal, action, and a little bit of the discomfort felt in traveling. The little stretch of town itself is a hodge-podge of cars and restaurants and jewelry shops and stores selling knick-knacks and illegal Bollywood CDs and DVDs. I instantly felt like I was back in the land of the East listening to the blaring horns, wailing bhajans, and multitude of incomprehensible languages. The women were all decked in brightly dyed sarees and salwar kameezes stitched with sequined embroidery, and the men spit out great gobs of red paan soaked saliva, dying the sidewalks with the familiar bloody splotches. I walked passed shops selling sparkling expensively intricate gold jewelry, and perused a few selling old holy books in Hindi and shiny brass dancing Gods and Goddesses. A little food court appeared to be a main attraction, packed with shouting men running all over the place, devouring chai and Indian snacks. I ordered a sugarcane juice with lemon and ginger and uncomfortably waited amongst the men. Even a honky hippie couple entered the establishment, barefoot, dreaded, and cloaked in tie-dye scarves and baggy corduroys.
I think America is awesome because of our diversity. There are little pockets of people from every country of the world adding to our stew pot.
When I was in India I hated it. I hated all the crowds of staring people and all the commotion and all the pollution. Maybe it was just Bangalore, where it feels like everyone is desperately trying to hide the fact that they are Indian. The place feels robbed of its culture, like all the crap of India resides there without the colorful charm and spice that defines the rest of India.
I also think I went there at the wrong time in my life, to the wrong place, and with the wrong people; definitely the wrong people. When I traveled alone in India, in Rajasthan I loved it, but I hated my time spent in Bangalore, feeling suffocated. As soon as I left India I regretted it. I missed it dearly. I knew I had not unlocked the secrets or nearly explored all of the back alleys or met all of the colorful smiles that the country has to offer. I have always felt a yearning to return, under better circumstances.
For a few short hours I enjoyed this reminiscence of India and envied my sisterfriend who arrived in Dharamshala today.
I think America is awesome because of our diversity. There are little pockets of people from every country of the world adding to our stew pot.
When I was in India I hated it. I hated all the crowds of staring people and all the commotion and all the pollution. Maybe it was just Bangalore, where it feels like everyone is desperately trying to hide the fact that they are Indian. The place feels robbed of its culture, like all the crap of India resides there without the colorful charm and spice that defines the rest of India.
I also think I went there at the wrong time in my life, to the wrong place, and with the wrong people; definitely the wrong people. When I traveled alone in India, in Rajasthan I loved it, but I hated my time spent in Bangalore, feeling suffocated. As soon as I left India I regretted it. I missed it dearly. I knew I had not unlocked the secrets or nearly explored all of the back alleys or met all of the colorful smiles that the country has to offer. I have always felt a yearning to return, under better circumstances.
For a few short hours I enjoyed this reminiscence of India and envied my sisterfriend who arrived in Dharamshala today.
7/14/2009
Vagabunda goes corporate
Ok, so I'm not actually going corporate....just searching for a job.
I have been getting some e-mails from people wondering where I am.SO.....I am currently stationed at my family home in Philadelphia. After a long semester in Brooklyn, I finally graduated after 4 long years abroad. But after writing a thesis and having all of my hair fall out due to stress and dengue related illness (I guess all of your hair falls out a couple months after having dengue...what a fun surprise that was), I needed a couple months to recuperate and be taken care of by my mom (she cooks delicious meals, what can I say?).
Now I am searching for a job. The past couple of summers I have relied on archaeology jobs to earn my traveling bean money, but this summer the beans just aren't sprouting. I had a potential job offer in New England which fell through (still a little upset about that), and contacted my old co-workers, most of whom are also hard up for work. I thought that this "economic crisis" wasn't going to hit dirt diggers, but I thought wrong. I am gauging the severity of shovel bum job loss by a post on shovelbums.org's job listings. There was a post for a project in Philadelphia, and hearsay suggested that they needed about 30 field techs. A couple days ago the company re-posted asking people to please stop sending in their resumes, as they had received over 500. I think this is cause for a little bit of alarm. My resume is competing with over 500, probably more qualified applicants.
So, I have moved on to bigger and better, or maybe just different things.
Ultimately, I want to help people, I want to works towards making this planet more habitable, I want to work towards humans being happier and less hungry.
SO, I am making a call out to my readers....Anybody got a job out there for a young, idealistic woman???
P.S. I will try to write some more. I am sort of just wallowing in a hole in the USA, not doing too much traveling, so I have been lacking passion for writing about my passion....traveling.
I have been getting some e-mails from people wondering where I am.SO.....I am currently stationed at my family home in Philadelphia. After a long semester in Brooklyn, I finally graduated after 4 long years abroad. But after writing a thesis and having all of my hair fall out due to stress and dengue related illness (I guess all of your hair falls out a couple months after having dengue...what a fun surprise that was), I needed a couple months to recuperate and be taken care of by my mom (she cooks delicious meals, what can I say?).
Now I am searching for a job. The past couple of summers I have relied on archaeology jobs to earn my traveling bean money, but this summer the beans just aren't sprouting. I had a potential job offer in New England which fell through (still a little upset about that), and contacted my old co-workers, most of whom are also hard up for work. I thought that this "economic crisis" wasn't going to hit dirt diggers, but I thought wrong. I am gauging the severity of shovel bum job loss by a post on shovelbums.org's job listings. There was a post for a project in Philadelphia, and hearsay suggested that they needed about 30 field techs. A couple days ago the company re-posted asking people to please stop sending in their resumes, as they had received over 500. I think this is cause for a little bit of alarm. My resume is competing with over 500, probably more qualified applicants.
So, I have moved on to bigger and better, or maybe just different things.
Ultimately, I want to help people, I want to works towards making this planet more habitable, I want to work towards humans being happier and less hungry.
SO, I am making a call out to my readers....Anybody got a job out there for a young, idealistic woman???
P.S. I will try to write some more. I am sort of just wallowing in a hole in the USA, not doing too much traveling, so I have been lacking passion for writing about my passion....traveling.
5/01/2009
Almost finished
I will be finished with this semester of climbing in and out of windows in a few days and then I will get back to writing. I have so much to tell you about!
1/24/2009
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