How could I forget?

Yesterday, I realized how close I came to transforming back into a my past self. A self whose life revolved around my credit score and the cleanliness of my office desk. What I was like thirteen months ago.

Thirteen months ago, I embarked on a journey which took me through seven countries, three of which I called . . . → Read More: How could I forget?

The Backpacking Chica is BACK!

Holy Hell!

It’s been way too long since I wrote a post on here…but never fear, you haven’t been far from my mind! In my “absence” I was working behind the scenes trying to get more exposure for this site, which got me more readers…and more spammers. I do apologize if random posts of mine have weird . . . → Read More: The Backpacking Chica is BACK!

Learn from my mistakes…Lost in Paris, France

Today is a sad day for me. Today, I realized that I accidentally left my diary from Africa in Paris.

Yes, eight months of irreplaceable memories lost, forever, without any sort of back-up record.

So, what’s my word of warning? Guard your travel memories with greater care than I guarded mine. I never made an electronic copy of . . . → Read More: Learn from my mistakes…Lost in Paris, France

Life’s a changin’; leaving Paris, thoughts on "sex lives with cannibals", and other such important things.

Bonjour tout le monde!

It’s been one hell of a ride. The last eleven months: oh. my. word.

Living in two African countries and then in Paris, France? The memories could fill a thousand books, which brings me to my exciting news/old news (for those of you who know me well). I have decided to write a book . . . → Read More: Life’s a changin’; leaving Paris, thoughts on "sex lives with cannibals", and other such important things.

All that in a box of chocolates?

About ten minutes ago my life changed. Squeezing myself around a stack of soda cans, I glanced to my left and I saw them. I saw packets of Pim’s cookies. Pim’s? Yes. Pim’s. The best thing since sliced bread. Literally.

Pim’s are a wonderfully British (or I assume they are British) cookie whose jelly layer, chocolate covering, . . . → Read More: All that in a box of chocolates?

Am I ever safe?

You know…I lived in Africa thinking that I would be in the most dangerous of countries, and I was OK with that. I was taking calculated risks, staying away from dubious persons, and in general, just being a smart cookie.

In recent weeks, it has become known that terrorist attacks are planned in the greater European continent, . . . → Read More: Am I ever safe?

I hate inspirational quotes.

I despise when people put music lyrics as their facebook status updates, and I loath when heartbroken individuals post long prose about how to it was better to love and have lost than it is to never have loved at all.

Well, today I’m going to be a hypocrite. I’m going to tell you about an inspirational . . . → Read More: I hate inspirational quotes.

As someone famous once said…merde actually!

Hello tout le monde!

Man. It. Has. Been. A. Rough. Week.

Moving to Paris sounds so romantic, so fun, so…everything you’ve ever wanted to do with your life and haven’t done yet.

Well, while it might be those things for people with lots of money, it is not for thrifty backpackers like myself. Don’t get me wrong: I love . . . → Read More: As someone famous once said…merde actually!

In remembrance. Nine years.

An American high school, September 11th, 2001:

My heart thumped as I turned my face to watch the blockbuster-esque drama unfold. Clammy hands clenched in my lap, suppressing the tears that began to well in the corners of my eyes.

Silence. Blood-drained faces looked to each other for guidance.

The television flickered and switched to a scene replay; the sun . . . → Read More: In remembrance. Nine years.

Raspberry yogurt, a volkswagon, and a friend: Germany.

It was the day after I arrived in Germany. I’d just woken up. I immediately checked for new bug bites; a silly habit from Equatorial Guinea. It was cold outside, and I was wearing a sweater. I took my breakfast (fresh bread, marmalade, butter, and yogurt) out onto the porch. The bright spring sun gave everything . . . → Read More: Raspberry yogurt, a volkswagon, and a friend: Germany.

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