To be anywhere but here

Winter is and has always been my least favorite season - except for those six weekly trips to the ski slopes in northeastern PA that began in third grade and continued through high school. I still love to ski and try to get back to the slopes of Blue Mountain once a year. Sometimes, I take someone with less skiing skill and teach them the art of starting, stopping, and sitting down on the chair lift.

But as my bare feet hit the cold bathroom floor this morning, I did not want to venture to a frigid ski slope, but rather board a plane to a tropical destination like Maui, where a lei and a large margarita awaited me. You see, winter is the season when I most desire to be anywhere but here. In middle school, my dad would plan a trip to Florida to visit my grandparents around President's Day weekend, so I would not miss that much school. The best year was when we went to a strawberry festival and some nail artist lady painted a strawberry on each of my fingernails, which were long at the time.

After my bare feet got used to the cold floor, my mind then wandered to a return to Ireland, where I traveled last March for my 30th birthday. Having a St. Patrick's Day birthday has always resulted in a lot of fun and new friends, and the same was true when my aunt and our tour group reveled in Dublin. On March 17, Aunt Bev and I began the day with a brisk walk by ourselves around Dublin, then joined everyone for the parade, followed by our bus tour of the city, had an impromptu tour of St. Patrick's Cathedral, then met a group of Australian guys dressed as leprechauns at Hard Rock Cafe, and heard some local musicians at a few other bars. I am pretty sure 30 was the best birthday celebration; unlike my first birthday where I reportedly cried until my mom asked the clown to stop his performance and then a few hours later, I decided to take a nap in a piece of my birthday cake - my spoon was still in my hand!

While some people are afflicted by Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) this time of year, I am a self-diagnosed sufferer of Wanderlust. I want to go anywhere, be anywhere but at home. Weekend road trips home to PA to visit family or an hour's drive to Annapolis to see my best friend are good starts. But there are times when I yearn to get off the blue line metro at Reagan Airport and on a whim by a plane ticket to anywhere warm. Don't worry, I would return in a few days - a lot happier and a little tanner!

Where will my mind travel to in the next posting... Stay tuned!