So I’m reading Lies That Chelsea Handler Told Me, which, by the way, I highly recommend for the fact that it’s not only hilarious, but also completely astounding. I’m not good at the whole prank thing, I guess because I’ve never had much experience with them (my brother and I were basically BFFs growing up – unless I was being a geek around his friends – so we didn’t pull any shit on one another), but Chelsea Handler is the QUEEN of pranks. Seriously, just read it. You’ll be in awe. Her commitment to the laugh is, well, remarkable.*
Anyway, now that I’ve promoted the hell out of Chelsea Handler, I’ll get to my point. I have been thinking about vacation a lot lately, and this book has a lot of mentions of these amazing beach vacations, days out on a yacht, etc., etc. Reading it has fully solidified my insane desire to go on vacation. Soon.
I know what you’re thinking, and it’s true, I have been to many places in the world. I was lucky – SO LUCKY – to have the opportunity to study in Scotland and travel to and experience lots of nearby countries in Europe. I would never in a million years brush those experiences off in any way, shape, or form. But I would call those experiences travel, not vacation.
Here’s the thing about me on a trip, and why I can only travel with like-minded individuals: when I go somewhere, I plan it like a motherfucker. Meticulously. I’m like the stage manager of travel, which will mean nothing to a lot of people and a lot to a few people, and which is also why I travel so well with my BFF Margaret, who is also a meticulous organizer. When I go on a trip, I read up on the city for weeks, make notes of everything I want to do and see, and basically (and sometimes literally) draw out a schedule of what I’m going to do on each day of travel.
I don’t leave room for downtime.
Travel Andrea says: “Downtime’s for suckers.”
One one hand, this is a fantastic quality, because when I travel to a new city, I always see and learn so much. I soak in as many sights as I can, and I feel very satisfied when I leave. I love to travel.
On the other hand, it’s probably the reason I feel like I need a holiday every time I get back from travelling somewhere. I never just chill. I don’t really know how. Even when I’m not travelling, I’m used to being so insanely busy that I never get much downtime. As I sit here, typing this, I am stressing about studying for a very important course exam I have to take tomorrow, worrying about some freelance work I have to do, and planning out a list of songs I need to choreograph and practice repeatedly tonight for my upcoming Zumba® classes.
I’m always stressing.
CUT TO: Me, thinking about vacation a lot lately. And not travel, but vacation. I want to go somewhere beautiful and calm and relaxing without knowing anything about the city, and with no plans but a handful of books to read, a lot of deep breaths to take, and maybe some exploration. I want to just be and smile and sigh and laugh and come home feeling like I just took the best nap of my life.
I don’t know if and when this is possible, because I’m such a stress-cadet, but dreaming about it has taught me one thing for certain: I am WAY too young to be this high strung all the time. I need to learn how to unwind and just be.**
Who’s with me?
*Also, she is totally the girl who would go pee with her friends. Or on them.
**Life update: I’m slowly, but surely, learning how to simmer the hell down (a little bit) at my new job. Sort of.