Put Me On A Plane, Fly Me To Anywhere Or, Wanderlust

I have a problem.

If we’re being honest – I have many problems:

– my interminable pottymouth (sorry, Mom)
– the fact NBC canceled Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip after a single season (No, I’m still not over it and as stoked as I am for Newsroom, I will forever lament the loss of Danny Tripp)
– knowing that funneling copious amounts of cheese into my gaping maw will not result in a body like Doutzen Kroes.

Straight men and gay women – I KNOW. And you’re welcome.

But my problem right now is a serious case of wanderlust.

Dana introduced me to the term a few years ago. It means a strong desire for or impulse to wander or travel and explore the world and I have got it bad.

During the past month, I’ve researched (shockingly expensive) trips to the Masai Mara wildlife preserve in Kenya, Uluru in Australia, Yellowstone, Denali and Yosemite.

Let me explain something – I hate nature.

Hate it.

It smells funny, it’s difficult to navigate, the terrain usually sucks, there’s all this weather to contend with and let’s face it — the chance of me being mauled to death by some frenzied animal is much greater out in the middle of nowhere than it is in the Philly suburbs.

Like a bear. Dear God, the bears. They run, they climb trees, they swim and one swipe of a paw could end your life. If the zombie apocalypse happens and it infects the bears, we are beyond fucked.

Also, walking is way more fun when there’s pavement, buildings and swarthy dudes hawking falafel from a cart every ten blocks.

But I’ve had this itch lately be out in the middle of it. Big sky and an endless canopy of stars. Bison grazing on plains. Red rocks and canyons. Trees like Atlas, holding up the heavens.

Obviously, I’ve lost my mind but that’s what wanderlust does to you. It makes you a little nuts, a little itchy, a little restless…which is a little worrisome when you’re prone to these characteristics in the first place.

Unfortunately, this kind of travel isn’t in my immediate future so for right now – I’ll have to satiate my jones by devouring National Geographic Magazine, spending lots of quality time reading Sending Postcards (all the recent posts on Morocco are making me want to pull a Penny Lane like you would not believe) and dreaming of hopping on a plane and flying to anywhere that’ll take me.

Show Me Your Friends and I Tell You Who You Are Or, Put Me On A Plane, Fly Me To Anywhere…

D: I want to go to Paris and eat my weight in bread and creme brulee
J: And this is why you’re one of my best friends. Because you understand what’s truly important in life. Have you seen Amelie? If not, you have to. It’s so cute and will make you lust for Paris even more.
D: I’m afraid if I see that movie, I might go apeshit and buy a ticket.

Life Goal #4678421: Go apeshit and travel with D.


So, I kinda want to be a hippie.

Not one of these crunchy assholes who doesn’t bathe and spends the summer following Phish, but an old-school-Let’s-Sell-Our-Shit-And-Hit-The-Hippie-Trail-From-Istanbul-To-India beatniks.

I want to get tan again. Brown sugar with dirty soles and an open soul.
I want my hair to be wild and free like all good things.
I want to eat street food straight from the cart and tap my toes to melodies composed by street musicians.
I want to write. Oh God, I want to write — on sunsplashed beaches, in cafes during monsoons, in lush courtyards and in sweltering rooms as sweat trickles down my neck.

I want to dance while under the influence of local liquor, spinning and giggling into the wee hours.
I want to lay out under the stars and cuddle by a roaring bonfire.
I want to wear chunky jewelry and maybe even get a tattoo. Small and discreet — a secret souvenir from a foreign land.
I want to ride on crowded, shaky trains and visits temples, mosques and bazaars. I want to meet people from all over the world, make new friends and learn as much as I can.

I want to bring my laptop, iPod and camera and document the whole thing for posterity, for my children, for the world, for myself.

I want to Go. Capital G — anywhere, everywhere, wherever.

Just leave and see what’s out there. Go for the best possible reason — because it’s out there. Because it exists. Because I can.