Why don't we just forget the "Pig-in-a-Poke" itinerary, and just play it by ear, like normal people?

Looking at a world map is like going to the bookstore: I think I've traveled a lot of places in my 31 years, I think I've read a lot of books — but then I realize there's so much left to see and so much left to read. It kind of makes me want to fall in the floor and have myself a little tantrum because I NEED A TIME-TURNER, DAMMIT! I NEED A TARDIS! I NEED A TIME MACHINE WRAPPED INSIDE A CLEAR TITANIUM BUBBLE. OR A ROCKETSHIP (DUH).

I love to travel. I love everything about it. I love airports and airplanes and trains and buses and taxis. I love living out of a backpack and meeting people and eating weird foods and getting lost and getting found. I love museums and I love National Forests and I love castles and I love cathedrals and I love monuments and I love mountains and I love oceans.

I spend half my life pretending I'm on an episode of Amazing Race, and saying things to my friends and family like, "I know you're hot and tired, but when you snip at me like that, it doesn't make you a very sympathetic contestant."

"A contestant on what?"

"On the Amazing Race?"

"We're not on the goddamn Amazing Race!"

"See, snipping again. America isn't going to root for you."

I went to wherei'vebeen.com this morning to map out, you know, where I've been. And it also gave me the option to say where I want to go. (Also: where I've lived.) So where I've been is blue and where I'm going is green and where I've lived is red.

Now all I gotta do is inherit one gazillion dollars.

And find someone to love this beast while I'm gone.