I have had an entire weekend of a whole lot of nothing. Call me a loser, but it was and is fabulous. In addition to my love of laziness, I choose to do nothing because I’m saving for my upcoming trip to Spain. The glorious land of tapas, flamenco and Spanish wine.
If I let myself, I drift away and imagine myself sitting at an outdoor cafe, sipping a glass of wine and breathing in the Spanish air. I really don’t know that I would need anything else, except to just BE there. Luckily, I’ll have tons of museums and Spanish monuments to revel in for nine days.
One of my main goals in life is to travel abroad at least once a year. I’ve kept that goal since 2007 (except for 2009 when that whole moving-to-a-new-city-without-a-job thing happened) with a month in Italy. Traveling is all I ever really want to do in life. I love experiencing other cultures and meeting people you’d never meet in your everyday life. I feel such an appreciation for whichever country I’m in. It’s, honestly, a drug. I crave that feeling and miss it when I haven’t had it in a while. Specifically, I’m addicted to Europe. There’s this vibe I get when I’m there that I can’t explain. I feel this connection to it that I haven’t shaken since that first trip in 2007. I assume it all stems from my German grandmother. She can be my scapegoat when I’m broke.