July 7, 2010

This year I will travel more than ever before. It is a combination of many factors: more money, a job with the need to go places, generous friends, a foreign boyfriend. It is exciting for me, still, knowing that I call NYC home. Most people are not that lucky (or foolish) and I don't really ever tire of this place. Even in yesterday's 104 degree weather New York City was alright.

By year's end I will have traveled to Los Angeles, San Francisco, Costa Rica, Fire Island, Romania, Istanbul, Turks & Caicos, India, Napa, Bulgaria, the Jersey Shore, Baltimore, Washington, DC, Annapolis, Upstate New York, Palm Springs, and maybe Paris or Rome or somewhere like that for Christmas.

Travel is exciting. And it really is a privilege. I grew up in a home where travel was not an option. My mother was too concerned with feeding her children. Having them see the world, a world she'd never seen, was simply not an option. And probably not a thought. Several years ago I took my mother on a trip to Paris for Christmas. I will forever hold that moment with me, showing her a world she'd inspired me, in some way or another, to seek out on my own.

And when traveling, whether to my lake house, or to Fire Island, or to the Caribbean, you learn a little more about your mates.

In June at the lake house I laughed with Monte and Michael and Jesse and Charles. On Fire Island we were guests of Michael Lucas and Richard Winger, where we argued over politics and shrimp salads. Also on Fire Island we dined like kings (queens?) with Marty Chavez and Adam Norbury and we also laughed. And on a secluded island, covered with iguanas, I thought that James Cameron's image of Avatar's planet was crystallized right there, in Turks & Caicos. As Jason Goldberg, Christian Schoenherr, my beloved Georgi and I walked into the neon blue depths, sting rays and barracuda swam up to us. They equally as intrigued as we were afraid of them.

Not all trips thus far have been exotic. I returned home to Baltimore and saw my father's mother for the first time in many, many years. Kissed my mother's lips, visited Basar and Scott, and in Annapolis picked crabs with my childhood best friends. Coming home, to my mom, my oldest friends, my bloodlines, fulfilled me as much as the warm Caribbean sun.

And just last week Georgi and I let go of preconceptions and ventured to New Jersey, where the beaches are, dare I say, much nicer than any in New York. Meals cost much less. Drinks, too. And we tanned ourselves with frozen cocktails in hand.

I'll be returning to Fire Island a few more times in coming weeks and then off to India, for work with Jason, Turkey, and Bulgaria, to meet Georgi's mother for the first time. I imagine in Varna we'll feast on native cuisine (no crabs assuredly) and hopefully I will witness the loving eyes of mother and son. And hopefully I will see the places he grew up, where he longed to escape from, where he, too, was inspired to think of a different place for himself.

Bulgaria to New York. Baltimore to New York. I would argue they're similar distances.

And so, halfway through this year, I've been to many spectacular places with amazing friends. Beautiful sunsets. Shared meals. Warmth from the sun. Laughs with friends. Shared meals with family. And shared experiences with my favorite travel companion.

All God's children need traveling shoes. Mine are really cute and ready for more walking. With you. Each of you.