“Holy crap… this is really happening” I think to myself as I settle into an uncomfortably tall bar stool in the San Francisco airport. I nervously check with my foot that my backpack and ukulele case are still situated underneath me, and haven’t been stolen by someone in the last 25 seconds since I performed the same ritual. A subconscious tick rather.
“What’ll it be?” the bartender asks hurriedly yet politely, as she was covering a full bar solo on an oddly packed Tuesday night.
“Elysian Star Dust, please,” I respond, eager to get one last west coast craft IPA in my system. I take the first sip, and a huge grin breaks across my face. All the stress that’s been piling up over the past months — planning, closing down my job, making sure I said goodbye to everyone, packing, moving/selling all my crap, making sure I won’t get fined for not having health coverage, and the million other pieces of straw that just about broke my back — it all falls away in one exhilarating moment. This shit is really happening.
Siem Reap, Cambodia. May, 2016.
Being the fairly normal late-20’s, pretending it’s still mid-20’s, Silicon Valley tech-industry worker, I’ve traveled a few times… meh, perhaps a little more than my average peer. But these trips have always been capped at the seemingly standard American 2-week, “I still want to have a job when I get back,” time frame. During these expeditions, I would meet Europeans, Canadians, but most of all Australians who were out for like… 2 years or something that seemed completely ludicrous. My heart always seemed to feel equal parts envious loathing, childlike inspiration, and complete dread at the thought of hostel showers for that long. But… in the end — as it should in any good story — childlike inspiration won out, and I promised myself that I would travel for at least 6 months before I was 30.
Around New Years, I realized that I had a rare 6-month window without any family obligations approaching. My youngest sister was graduating from high school, my next younger sister got into Berkeley, my older sister and my best friend were both having babies, and my cousin was getting married… all occurring by the end of August! Additionally, I didn’t have any more weddings on the radar until March. This was my time!! So for weeks, of course, I internally debated the insanity of such a trip, and ended up doing what I always tend to do before my trips become a reality… I waited until I was drunk and said to my flatmate “…eff it, I’m buying my ticket. Punch me in the face if I don’t do it tomorrow.” 24 hours later, and much to the disappointment of my flatmate, I had a confirmation number in my inbox for a 1-way flight to Berlin!!
I put in my 3 month (yes, you read that right) notice, since you know… I’m an awesome person or whatever… but mainly because I couldn’t contain my enthusiasm. I settled everything down at work, met to two most adorable baby girls (my goddaughter Miss Parker Rose and then my niece Miss Emma Grace), and then *poof* here I was… at a bar in SFO, waiting for my bright pink jet plane to take me to Germany.
I’m wearing shorts, I promise 😉
So thus begins the Chronicles of Brownie, Andy B, Brownjamin Button, Employee 1314, or whatever else you may know me by. Follow along with me, and see the world through the filter of my overly sarcastic and twisted mind! I hope you enjoy, and perhaps become inspired to take an extended trip yourself!
Sincerely, Brownie
