To All of the Men Who Changed Their Mind: Screw You & Thank You.

Note: This post was started in February, but it seems like a good time to finish those thoughts: 

Warning: So much cursing that Maury Povich wouldn't air it. 

To all of you. 

I'm sorry I'm like this. 

I'm sorry for all of it. 

I'm sorry I text a lot. I'm sorry I am private about things that make me upset. I'm sorry I overthink. I'm sorry for making you believe that I'm always happy when in reality, I'm incredibly sad. I'm sorry that my reasoning for doing and not doing something may seem idiotic and petty. I'm sorry that I have feelings. I'm sorry that sometimes I can't hold a conversation. I'm sorry, I may not be as intellectual as others you know, I'm sorry I'm trying my hardest and it's not enough, I'm sorry that, to me, I expect certain things out of people, not complicated, but what I think I deserve. An example? Hmmm, let's see....

Honesty?

Respect?

Compassion?

Reciprocity? 

It's totally okay, I get it that those are hard concepts for some people to grasp. 

Reverting back to my original post, I'm just sorry for being 100% me, with real tears, laughter, love, compassion, comfort, anger, jealousy, negativity, optimism, and everything in between. 

I am so so so incredibly sorry for being human.

Now, let's move on. 

To every single guy who basically utilized me for a week or two and then had some realizations that they "aren't in a good place to be in anything right now " or say, "I just don't think I want to be doing anything with anyone at this time in my life. Everything is just bad timing right now" and then suddenly become okay and start seeing someone within a few weeks: FUCK. YOU.

To me, who acknowledged what they said and appreciated the honesty and respected their decision: Girl, You. Got. Fucked. Over. 

AGAIN. AND AGAIN. 

...and again...

I guess fool me once, huh? But in terms of my life, I supposed it's fool me 3 times, maybe 4 or 5. In the same month. 

I feel used. 

I feel disappointed 

I feel betrayed.

I feel like a layover on their way to a better destination.

A pitstop

A one-off

Just a fucking goddamn piece of female meat.

Fuck everyone who told me they feel something for me. 

No you don't. 

Fuck you for saying that it wasn't a one and done. 

It was. 

Fuck you for saying it was real. 

No it wasn't. 

Fuck you for telling me that this was not a rebound or to fulfill a craving. 

Is your dick happy now? 

I HAVE MOTHERFUCKING FEELINGS.

 

i have a heart. 

i have a soul

i have feelings

i crave compassion and passion.

I want a connection.

i want conversation.

i want substance. 

I AM DONE BEING USED.

Want to get deeper into this? Oh please, read on. It gets better. 

Once upon a time, in my golden years (19-early 20s range), I allowed myself to be used. I knew it was happening, but I didn't care. I was getting attention. No one liked me until college, actually after college. I didn't want to have sex because I was waiting for a special person (spoiler: he wasn't so special). So what did I do? I did anything else for them so they would feel some way towards me. I wanted to feel wanted. My neighbor in my dorm used to text me every weekend after he drank to go over there and basically do things that only benefited him. Did I go to bed mad about it? Nope. Why? Because I felt needed. How many guys have I done stuff like that for? Oh, how much time do ya'll have? I basically was passed around, especially at parties. When I was 22, I went to someone's house, who? I don't know, some friend of someone else that I was visiting that weekend. It was a party. I was so drunk. So unbelievably drunk and I remember being brought upstairs. I remember some guy brought me upstairs and there was a bed. We had sex. I don't remember it, I remember not really wanting it, I didn't even know this guy. And I thought nothing of it. But as years go by and the more I think about that night, the more I wonder what actually happened, and that question that no girl wants to even think about crosses their mind. You're thinking it too. I don't want to say it because it disgusts me. 

The point I'm trying to make with everything said before now is this: since college, I've felt used with a few interruptions of a few great connections that felt real. 

As many times as I would like to say a big Fuck You to these men, I also have to say thank you. 

thank you for showing me what I don't deserve

thank you for showing me the signs I need to look for to keep myself safe

thank you for making me realize how big of an asshole you were before I exerted all my energy on you

thank you for playing me, messing with my feelings, my vulnerability

thank you for going radio silent on me 

Thank you for helping me realize that my self-worth is more important than impressing you.

I have self dignity. I have pride. I have choices. 

I'm destroyed. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. I'm drained. I wake up with empty thoughts. It's as though my brain can't put words or sentences together. I cry. Every morning. Sometimes I don't even know why. I just do. Because it's all I feel like I can do. I'm so tired of this.

I just want to sleep. 

I want to close my eyes.

Goodnight. 

Peacefully Detaching from Toxicity

I've wanted to write this post for a while. I'm still not sure if it is the right time; if my thoughts are aligned, if I have the clarity I need to move forward, or the words that will encompass what I am trying to write. But something tells me that tonight is the night to at least try. 

I'm giving out my energy and time for people whom I love and support and show appreciation,

but,

I'm also giving away energy to people who don't realize the energy I exert is energy that I am not putting back into myself while also showing zero appreciation. 

And that has to stop.

My whole life, I have always made it an effort to never say no to people, if possible. If someone needed help, I said yes. If someone asked for someone to accompany them somewhere, I say yes. Need money? Sure. Why not. But, I don't regret any of those people, I'm not mad at myself for doing it. I love doing it. I love showing up for my friends. My constant urge to help people and be their person that saves the day is something that brings me joy. I like to be the person that helps make someone else's life a little bit easier and less stressful. 

But I forgot about one thing. 

Myself. 

My happiness.

My stress. 

My goals.

Lately, I've noticed that the one thing I haven't been receiving is the love and support that I provide for some people. Sure, I have a good group of friends that do show up for me and support me and will listen to me talk for hours because I just need someone. And I am so forever grateful for them. Then there are the people I want to keep in my life so I am there for them in any way needed, but if I also never spoke to those people again, I don't think they would care or notice.

During a walk today, I was thinking about how many people I have helped in the past in one way or another and how many of them were grateful or said thank you, in a genuine way. 

And aside from a specific few, there weren't many. And yet, I kept helping them. Because that's the person I am. I care. A lot. Maybe too much sometimes. 

I am so grateful for my life: what I've accomplished, where I've worked, the relationships I've been in, the people I've met, the memories I've made, the travels I've endured. It's truly magical. However, the one thing that would make it better is to remove the toxicity. Remove the people that make me rethink my life, the people who make me cry, the people who make me feel like I'm always making the wrong decision. The people, who judge my life and who I am while not even knowing me. The people that make me doubt and think lesser of myself

I'm done with those people. They're not bad people. Just not ones I want to have a presence in my life. 

I'm writing this post to tell myself and others (whoever reads this, which is probably no one or my dad), that sometimes, you have to let people go to move forward, to take steps that guide you in the direction you see yourself. The only person you need to think about is yourself. Your happiness, your goals, your actions, your decisions, those are of primary importance. One step closer to pure happiness, just a little bit more clarity, is what needs to happen, and getting rid of those toxic people and events in your life is the first step. 

Cleanse yourself of people who do not appreciate you or are not grateful for everything you do for them. The people who don't reciprocate the love and gratitude that you express towards them. The people who don't support your lifestyle or dreams. Rid of those dark clouds, the negative energy, and replace it with good intentions, good people, and dreams that go beyond the stars. 

You deserve it. We deserve it.

The Mind of Infinite Unanswered Questions

 My mind. 

is consistently racing. Nonstop. 

That statement was also redundant.

Felt the need to call myself out there.

Anyways...

Here's what's going down in my mind today, at 1:45am on a Friday (Saturday?)

Do you ever just sit in your car, not moving, and just stare out in front of you? Do you ever get lost in your thoughts for so long that hours just pass by and you can't remember what you were even supposed to do that day? Do you ever just sit there and cry? For no reason, just tears, rolling down your face, with that little hint of salt when it hits your lips. Silently telling yourself, "Why are you crying? You were so happy minutes ago. Why now?" as you drive away playing some overly dramatic song on your speakers trying to snap yourself out it? 

You too? Cool, so you've gone through 2020 also. 

I'm not necessarily saying I did that today, or yesterday, or in the last week, but sometimes I think back and try to figure out what caused those tears now that I have more clarity than I did that day. And every single time I replay those moments in my head, the same driving factor pops up. Lack of pride in myself, lack of confidence, not feeling like I'm making a difference, not making the people around me proud. 

i cry because the majority of people I surrounded myself with only cared about material things, drama, being popular, and did a good job of making me feel as though I was always a terrible friend.

i cried because they called me names that I believed were true and deserving and names that I never argued because I didn't want to lose friends. 

It was tearing me apart. Puffy eyes for days. Lost voice from screaming. Not moving out of my bed for days. Just replaying constant scenarios in my head over and over again wondering what I did wrong. 

But one day, it all became clear:

         I will never see yourself in a positive way if I don't surround myself with those who                                 believe in me, support me, and want to be present for me. 

I have finally found my place. I have found a community that believes in what I believe in. People that want to be a part of the change; that want to make a difference. Where we put others first, we trade skills, we support each one of our endeavors because that's what it means to be a community and to collaborate with those around us to better yourself and them. 

I didn't know that this is what I needed until I moved here. I'm constantly asked why I move so much and as much as wanderlust is a huge component to that, being able to find a community and people who understand me was always at the root of it. 

I feel whole again. I feel like me. 

I'm so proud of who I am and who I'm becoming.

                                                My life is moving forward in the best way. The best support, the best                              co-workers, the growing friendships, and the deep relationships. 

              I have such a long way to go, but right this second, I am so immensely grateful. 

For you, for me, for this moment.

Sincerely,

Me xx

It's never simple, is it?

I fell for you. 9 years ago. The second I met you.

But you know that. Because you did the same.
.
.
.
.
Then I ditched you for your best friend. And I fucked up. As usual.

Fast forward 9 years. 

And now this all happened. To you, it's nothing. It's just a friendship. To me? It's everything. 

We made plans. I had no intentions. You seemed more into it than I did. I was just up for hanging out with my friend. 

You pulled up in front of my house, I see you through my window. I run down to say hello and see you through your window and memories came flashing back. Meeting you at the baseball field, talking with you about video games, talking on the rock that overlooked the entire town, talking about relationships and love and realizing that we got along so well. It was the easiest conversation I'd ever had with somebody. It was the first time I believed that someone could like me for me. 

We smoked. We talked. We went and played pool. We got food. We laughed.

I felt you wanted to get closer but I didn't know how I felt. 

Then you kissed me, in my bed.

It's strange to me.

How I became after. 

I know that I'm an emotional person, but usually, with most, my attachment isn't permanent because the emotional feeling isn't there. I can let it go. It's usually so simple because I know how most see me. 

But with you, it's so incredibly different. 

I knew I was in trouble. I knew it because this wasn't going to be a one and done for me. You want to know how I knew?

I smiled afterwards. For hours. For days. Until I saw you next. 

And it happened. Exactly how I expected. I saw you, we smiled, we laughed, we cooked, we kissed, we watched movies. It couldn't have been more comfortable.

It had to become too good to be true, right? 

Because why me? Why would I ever get so lucky?

And I'm not saying it's over. But I know it's heading there. Because it's never me. 

You tell me I'm attractive. You think I'm silly and love the way I dress. That I'm not like every other woman. That I'm okay sitting and not spending money and being spontaneous. I love to make friends with everyone. How bowling, pool, and a giant pitcher or two of beer is my idea of a night out with you. 

But it can never stop there. 

There's ALWAYS a downside. 

You showed me a photo of a woman you thought was also attractive because I told you it was okay to show me because it's not like we were dating and she was cute. And in the beginning, I was okay with it, but with every minute I spent with you, I didn't want to think about her and the effect she has on you. But I couldn't stop thinking about her. Comparing this girl I know nothing about to myself and every single time, she was better than me. I don't even know what she sounds like. 

Then you told me that if I found someone that was perfect for me that I should go with it and do it. That he doesn't know if he'll be ready for a long time, that he's in a weird place. And I have all the respect for that kind of mindset. 

There was no one else. 

I couldn't even think of a soul. Only him. 

I know, I'm always like this. Attached. That it's just a feeling you get when there's someone new. 

When I fall, I fall hard. Every time. And I ruin it. It's always my fault for the drastic decline of our relationship whether it be romantic or platonic. 

With that said, I have something I need to say. 

Dearest You, 

I like you. 

You make me happy. 

The light touches on my back, the kisses, the smiles. 

Cooking together, having a drink, making conversation with strangers. 

You never question me or my actions. 

You listen. You care. You are so genuinely you.

I enjoy talking about you to my friends.

Seeing your face on video even if you're doing it just for me.

You have views, you have dreams, you have opinions.

You may tell me that you're nothing special,

but I believe that people who know someone well understand what's special about them.

I'm sorry for how I am. 

How attached I become. 

The consistent texts, messages, and urges to see you.

Asking you a million times about your feelings.

Questioning your motives when I know you would never lie.

I guess it's simply this:

I know I won't lose you as a friend, but I'm scared you'll lose me.

You never say no to me, and I think if you could, you would.

I don't want to be hurt, especially by you,

but if you need to end it, I have to believe there's something better out there. 

I ultimately want happiness for both of us. I just want lifetimes filled with smiles and pure love. 

And if that's not with each other, then I will accept that. 

Find someone who fills your soul with love, mind with questions, and heart with memories.

I will never stop caring,

Me.

I Miss You.

I miss you.

Your smile.
       Your embrace.
Your laughter.
       Your energy.

You always told me "My money's on you"
You made sure that I knew when I became famous I was going to buy you a new car
You had a room specifically for me
You always knew,
        You knew how to make me feel loved.
Admired. That I was a huge piece of your heart. That I was always "Gorgeous."
        We should've trademarked that word. Gorgeous was YOUR word.

You never gave up on me.
We spent our weekends together;
        laughing, eating, holding hands.
We shopped even though I hated it because you loved it.
You cared about my life
Everything about it.
My education, my dating life, family life.

                                        Then I moved away from you.
I feel selfish, as if I betrayed you.

I remember the day.
The moment is so lucid.
We knew it wasn't going to be much longer.
But we thought we could hold onto you for another 2 years.
I got the call, Lisa was breathing heavier by the moment.
She told me you had your appointment, and they told you.

They told you it wasn't two years but two weeks.

                                                    My mom called me,
Asked if I wanted to talk to you, which I didn't know then would be my last time.
I said I had work and I couldn't be on the phone anymore.

She hung up. We never spoke.

I remember my mom telling me that you just wanted to always know when you were going to die.
You were a happy woman.
Loved by every single person.
But you knew the pain was going to get worse and your time was going to dissipate.

Showing up at your house, you were in hospice.
But your nails were perfectly painted because once you found out you were going to die, the first thing you asked for was to go get lunch and get your nails done because all you could do now was live.
We did impersonations of you;
        You smiled.
That was the last time you smiled. And I will never forget it.
We sang camp songs from when your daughters were young,
We played the voicemails you would leave us,
         Always about the sale at Nordstroms, never calling us by the right names.
You called mom, Hollis, you called me Lisa and you sometimes called all of us Fritz.

                                                       You accepted the fact that you were going to die.
                                      I missed my last call with you.
                                                        You couldn't speak when I saw you.
                                      It was your time to go.
                                                        You waited for me to come home before you let go.
I wasn't ready.
And now you're gone.
I need you back.
You had faith in me.
You believed in me.

But someone once told me, that you may be gone, but you will always be with me.

                                                                      And I believe that. 

I hope you see this, and I hope you understand how much happiness you brought into my life.

                        And I promise, 

Whoever I end up marrying, they are going to know that you are up there making sure they never treat me like crap because you will come down here and "beat the shit out of him."

Thank you, for being genuinely you. 

                                                                          I'm going to make you so proud.
                                                                                            Every. Single. Day.

Do Ya Feel Me?

Life is hard. 

It's so fucking hard. 

I sit awake at night, despite the weight of my eyelids shutting slowly descending to allow me to fall asleep, contemplating my life, my future, my past, my decisions, my friends, my enemies, and my actions. 

Don't you? 

No? Well, then you're lying. Because I'm pretty sure everyone does. 

Do you ever listen to that one same song or album over and over again because it just relates to you so much that you think if you listen to that song(s) enough times, some sort of answer will come out of it? That your life will suddenly change and everything will be better? For me, I'm listening to the entire Elle Mai album and a Kodaline album from 2013 because for some reason it hits me so much harder than I was ever expecting. Actually, I didn't even know I needed these albums until I listened to them the whole way through. 

But I'm not here to tell you to listen to an album or music in general (Although I highly recommend both).

I'm here to tell you that we are all stuck. I'm so sick of social media. I'm tired of looking at people's profiles and thinking they are so much happier than me, so much more successful. I have learned firsthand that those people that portray happiness actually aren't that satisfied in their own lives and they put up a façade. They just want to make everyone think that they are okay and that everything is unicorns and dandelions. Why do people need to do that? I'm not quite sure. Insecure? Pressure? Competition? Now, I'm not going to be a negative Nancy and say that everyone is miserable and their lives suck because I know that is absolutely false. But I am here to say that if you feel like you are falling behind, you are probably more ahead than you think. 

Do you have a job? Do you have friends? Family? A place to live? Are you breathing? If you said yes to one or all of these, you're doing pretty fucking great if you ask me. 

Social media has this well-known ability to bring down egos and self-esteem. You see these incredible photos being taken from amazing angles, people in amazing shape, wearing incredible outfits, smiling, traveling, laughing, etc. But have you ever seen how those photos are taken? Do you know if the photos are old or new? Are those people even their real friends? You're not going to know! THAT'S THE POINT! I used to be obsessed with Instagram and Facebook and comparing my lives to those around me and then I realized that this isn't reality. I'm basing my life off of a computer screen and people I don't even know. How is that even a way to live? IT'S. NOT.

So....

Listen up people! 

Life is a beautiful thing. You will have your ups, your downs, breakups, marriages, job losses, new jobs, money, no money, experiences, memories, and all around love for everyone and everything. Stop comparing. Stop believing that your life is so much worse that everyone else's because you don't know the life they're living outside the phone screen. And it's not your job to know their lives unless they want to share it with you. Wake up and do something for YOU, not to impress those around you. You want to waitress for the rest of your life, then fuck, do it. You want to quit your job to start your own company despite the risk of losing everything, then do it. If you want to continue what you're doing because it's a solid safety net, then hell, it's not what I want to do, but by all means, you do it. 

There is no one's approval you need but your own. You may get negative feedback, opinions, and maybe even some backlash, but that isn't a reason for you to give up on the life you want to live. 

The reason for this post is simple: Live your life. Live your best life. Live a messed up life. Life a life of adventure. Live a life of heartbreak and love. Live a life full of laughter and tears. 

Just Live.


"High hopes. When you let it go, the world can start again" - Kodaline

Do ya Feel Me? 

Do you? 

You don't have to. Because it's YOUR life. 

Xx, 
Em

I Think Your 20's is Just a Decade of Pure Confusion

I'm baffled.

Always.

Seriously. Confused. 24/7.

It's as though every decade has a reason:
0-10 years old: School and playdates with friends
11-20: High School, College, Partying, "Figuring out life"
30-40: Married, having kids, working a full-time job

And then this:
20-30 years old: Ummm, what?

What are we supposed to do? Most of us are graduating college, moving out of our parents houses, trying to determine what our future holds. But the majority of us have no idea what we want to do or where we expect ourselves to be within these years. It's going back to those awkward gap years, like when you wear braces and goofy glasses because it's just that time of your life. You feel as though your life should be coming together and you keep getting hit with these horrific moments of pure anger, confusion, and self doubt.

I think when you're in your 20s you either have your shit together or you don't. And I'm not saying that one is right and one is wrong, but lets face it; you feel like a major failure when you don't. I'm not even sure where I stand in this debacle we call a "quarter life crisis." The only thing I know at this point is that I have survived 25 years of my life, I'm not homeless, broke, or in jail. I don't know about you, but I call that a success. But success is not measured by the amount of time spent in jail (look at Martha Stewart for example).

Let's be serious for a second here: What is the true deciding factor that determines your success in your twenties? Does having a part-time job mean you're not doing well? Is being single, living alone, with one cat (maybe 5) mean you're a failure? Because to me, I'm being told these are the years you're supposed to have acquired your dream job, find the person of your dreams, and start feeling put together and ready to take on the world. But can someone please show me this checklist of what you're supposed to accomplish in your 20s because I think mine may have gotten lost in the mail.

Here's what I think, not that you care, but this is my take on your 20s:

These are the years about experimentation. You move new places, take on new jobs, new opportunities, and you do a trial and error run on your life. Figure out what makes you happy; what job do you want to wake up and go to every morning? Who do you want to spend all of your time with at the end of the day? Where do you want to live that combines everything you love into one? When you shoot a bow and arrow, chances are you don't hit the bulls eye on the first try, but after figuring out your errors and fixing them, you are bound to hit the center eventually. And as we all know, frustration and aggravation come into play along with self-hatred and depression, but life isn't all uphill; you have to go down at some point to make it to your final destination.

I have had jobs in a plethora of fields, befriended people of different varieties, moved to a copious amount of places all in the last few years just to try and come to some sort of conclusion about my life. And you know what? I still have absolutely no idea where I'm heading but I know where I'm not, and to me, that's progress.

If there is one I've learned halfway through my 20s it's this:

Don't get so down on yourself. Believe that eventually everything will come together and it will. If you don't put in the effort, nothing will happen to you. Everything cannot be handed to you a silver platter and if you believe that everything should, well then enjoy not getting anywhere anytime soon. These are the years to enjoy your freedom and try out new jobs, new locations, and new friends. Your twenties may be the most confusing years of your life, but I think they're the ones that make you stronger and get you closer to exactly who you want to be.

Now go on, take your twenties and show them who's boss.

London: I'm never underestimating a city again

“I guess I’ll go to London. I may as well since I’m doing Ireland and Scotland. I’ll just spend a few days there.”

Biggest regret I’ve ever had.

When I arrived to London, Stansted Airport, I immediately took a 1.5 hour bus ride to Finchley Road where I walked down the road to find my Hostel, which looked like an old Victorian House. It got amazing reviews so I was actually looking forward to it. But when I arrived, everyone was very quiet, there were a lot of older families there and I just wasn’t feeling the vibe. (Trust me, if you don’t feel a vibe in a hostel, you’re not going to enjoy it at all) So that night, instead of exploring the city (regret), I decided to hang back in the hostel and just go to bed.

The next day I told myself to get on that tube and just go somewhere. Anywhere. I chose Buckingham Palace. How was it? Umm, it was a palace. It was big. Looked like houses is Alpine, NJ. But it was located in such an odd location. Smack in the middle of the road. You would think it would be something like the white house but it wasn’t. There was a gate, those guards that you try and constantly make laugh, and some grass. So I continued on through the park and came across Parliament. Ask me anything about politics. Go ahead, ask. I will be you $1 that I will not know the answer. And I will tell you now, I will not know the answer. Why? Because I don’t care. I hate politics. I don’t know how they work. I don’t want to know how they work. Yay for honesty hour! But for some god forsaken reason I decided to buy a very overpriced ticket to go inside. I’m not going to lie, it was actually pretty cool to see both sides of Parliament and how they are separated and their beliefs. It was something to cross off my list. After Parliament, I walked by Westminster Abbey, didn’t go in because it was close to closing and decided to head over to a restaurant called Feathers and grab a burger that just wasn’t good. So at that point, I lost all hope in London and headed back to the hostel. A girl, nicknamed Hut, in my room started talking to me and we got pretty close and decided to go to dinner together. That’s when Q came in. He texted me about my trip and offered to take me out for a drink. At that point I was over London and just wanted to do something else so I agreed and later that night we went out.

He picked me up at the hostel and we headed to the local pub and underground wine bar where we talked about family and just our lives in general. It was exactly what I needed. Sometimes the only thing you need to make you smile is just a friend to talk to about everything. And he was exactly that. I felt super comfortable and started to enjoy myself and the London scene at night. He was so friendly that I didn’t’ want it to end, so I extended the invited of my wandering around London the next day to him and he told me to message him, which I did.

The next morning I decided to tour the Tower of London because I was told that it was a must-see when visiting London and although it was pouring and freezing that day, I have to agree. It was an incredible castle in London, full of history and beauty. Afterwards, I met back up with Q in the center of town and we just walked around, talked some more, grabbed some food, and rode on the carousel next to the Eye. He later invited me out in Campden (party central) to meet some of his friends. I knew that I wouldn’t go out drinking unless it was with people so of course I accepted the invite and met everyone later on in the night. It was probably one of the most fun times I’ve had in a long time. All of the people I met there were so heart-warming and friendly that it was as if I’d known them for ages. Finally, the night ending around 5am, I knew I was falling in love with London. I didn’t want to leave the next day.

My final day in London was quite saddening. I was planning on going to the aquarium or Westminster but the weather was rare at 75 degrees in October so I decided to take advantage of that and go to Hyde Park with my book and just read until I had to meet my Couchsurfing Host who would put me up that night before my flight the following morning. When I was at the park, Q surprised me by offering to meet me and it was the perfect ending with a true friend I’d only known for about 3 days. It’s funny how you can become so close to somebody within hours. So saying goodbye to him was quite hard but it was time for my next new adventure.

Around 6pm I met with my host, my first host ever, Nathan who was incredibly sweet. He welcome me with open arms. We went out for Indian food (one of my favorites), and then he took me on a night tour of London. The one thing I’ve learned so far while travelling, is that the city is so different at night versus daytime. The night sky is illuminated with the stars and the buildings that fill the city. The London Bridge was glowing with blue lights while Big Ben was shining bright while the time was ticking away. If it wasn’t for Couchsurfing, I don’t think I would’ve seen any of it. He gave me a tour and a history lesson. He made me laugh and made me look harder at my surroundings. I will never forget that night and the fact that he put me up for the night, for free.

London certainly was full of surprises. I met some amazing people, drank some horrible beer, ate some horrible food, but had the time of my life in a place I thought I was going to hate from the very beginning. I guess that truly shows that you can’t judge anything until you fully experience it.

Details:

Ryanair Flight: 12 Euros from Eindhoven, Holland – London Stansted Airport

Hostel: Palmer’s Lodge – Swiss Cottage. Approximately 18 pounds a night ($25)

Mode of transport: Oyster card (5 pounds + how much you put on it) – Tube/Walking

 

Amsterdam: Where a coffee shop doesn't actually sell coffee

This may sound lame. Okay, it is going to sound lame, but I love museums. And when I say that, I actually mean it. So this part of my trip, consists primarily of museums. That means that this may be the post that you pretend to read and just close down the tab and send me a message that says it was amazing even though it was probably more boring than reading a brochure about air.

But let’s see how long you’ll stick around, shall we?

Because I have been to Holland before and because I am also ending my trip there before I head back to the states, I decided that this would be the country where I would attempt to get rid of all jetlag. I never set an alarm, I was in no rush, and I did whatever I had time to do. I just didn’t think all three days I would wake up at 11am. So, yeah, my days were pretty much fucked once I woke up (excuse my language)

For my first day, I had purposely slept until 11….yeah, let’s go with that. I wanted to try and rid of any jetlag that I had and clearly I had a lot since it lasted 3 days. But I had made my schedule for that day anyways: Find a good place for breakfast since I hadn’t eaten well in days and go back to the Anne Frank Huis. After a quick 20 minutes train ride to Amsterdam, I immediately found the breakfast place I had in mind, Greenwoods, very easy to find. Right on the canal. (Ha, get it? It’s a joke. There are a billion canals, you’ll never find it) And just for the record, that was one of the best breakfasts I’ve had in a long time so I would highly recommend it if you ever have the chance to go to Amsterdam. After, I made my way to the Anne Frank Huis. Because it wasn’t a weekend, I didn’t have to wait for more than 20 minutes to get in. Upon entering, I told myself to read everything and watch every movie that the tour had to offer because the previous time I was there, I was with a tour and I will tell you, I didn’t listen at all. But I will tell you this, every single time that I go to Amsterdam, I will be going back to that museum. It is incredibly emotional, heartfelt, and deep, it leaves you so thankful for everything you have in life. Seeing where she lived for all those years, the words she wrote, the risks they had to take to keep their family alive; it hits your like a bullet. At the end of the tour, you are able to write a thank you note to Anne. If there wasn’t a word limit, I probably could’ve written to her all day. But just writing that note was incredibly emotional. The entire room was silent while they were writing. I read some others that people wrote from all over the world and to see how much she affected everyone around the globe was extraordinary. That house may be small, but the impact it has when you walk out, is bigger than anything you can ever imagine.

By the time I left the museum, it was almost 5pm, when all the museums close, so I pretty much had no other options for the day. Sjors met me at the train station around 6 and we decided to take the ferry to the other area of Amsterdam and go out for a really nice dinner overlooking the water. We pretty much spent the entire meal trying to get me to understand football (happy Sjors?) And no, I still don’t get it. By the time we arrived back to Hilversum, it was past midnight and we headed to bed.

The next day, I honestly can’t remember what I did in the morning, but it wasn’t all that interesting so I ended up going to the Van Gogh Museum and walking throughout Amsterdam for the entire day. Tip: GO. TO THE VAN GOGH MUSEUM. GO. I DON’T CARE IF YOU DON’T LIKE MUSEUMS. GO.

                That museum was absolutely beautiful. For a place to hold so many pieces of his work in a timetable style, was brilliant. It started off with his earlier work, who his mentors were, followed by their work, and so on. It explained why he had darker paintings towards the beginning of his career and why The Bedroom and the sunflowers are his most famous pieces. I am happy to say that I might just be a Van Gogh aficionado now. And I am damn proud of that. Following the museum and a good 2 hours stroll throughout the city, I once again met up with Sjors and he took me to see the Red Light District. Yeah yeah, prostitutes. I know. But I find it so funny that it’s almost done with class? That might be too strong of a word but it’s literally window shopping. Every time you see a red light in a window, there is a woman dressed in lingerie and if you want to go in, you knock on the window and if they’re interested, they will talk to you about what you want and you go it and they shut the curtain to the window. They are EVERYWHERE. They even have an apartment building-style area where you walk into a building and instead of doors to apartments, it’s windows with women in it. Quite strange and a little uncomfortable, but hey! When in Amsterdam, right? Apparently there is a blue light district with men, but no one can seem to find it, so I’m starting to believe that’s a fib. So after going window shopping, sadly I did not purchase anything, we headed home again.

Now this was my last night so the one thing I really wanted to do was go to the Rijks Museum. So Wednesday, that is what I did. All day. This museum is MASSIVE. So I would give yourself about 4 hours to go through the whole thing. I only gave myself 3 and missed about 3 levels unfortunately. Instead of staying in Amsterdam again that night, I decided to meet Sjors in Utrecht. It’s just a small city in between Amsterdam and Hilversum. Known to resemble Amsterdam but a lot cheaper and smaller. I adored this city. So much. It was quaint, restaurants and cafes were bordering the canal, filled with locals and tourists enjoying a good beer and some food. The city was lit up by the lights of the church and those inside of the tunnels. For my last night, Sjors took me to this bar that was inside of what was once a functioning church. It was incredible. It was definitely a gem. No tourists (except me), crowded, people laughing, smiling, and clinking their glasses together in honor of a good night. We grabbed a few beers, some fries and bitterballs (don’t ask what’s in them. They’re deep fried and delicious. Get them.)

For all of those that are interested in going to Holland, Amsterdam is truly incredible but Utrecht, is without a doubt, a hidden gem.

I can’t wait to go back.

I Left My Heart in London

(fyi, this post is out of order. Holland is coming tomorrow)

This post has a lot of meaning to me. Which is why I’m designating an entire post to it.

I think that who you meet in life and who you decide to surround yourself with describes you as a person and what you want out of life. I have experienced so much in life: ups and downs, depression and happiness, the loss of good friends, and the gain of so many. I have taught myself that your happiness is dependent on what you do, who you meet, and how you take up time. There is nobody to blame but yourself. If you want to sit and do nothing all day and stare at the wall, then by all means, do it. If you want to go out and party with strangers, hey, I’m not going to be the one to stop you. Happiness has a multitude of definitions and it’s different for every single one of us. And for me, for this specific article, it’s London.

Like I mentioned earlier, my arrival to London was not something I was looking forward to. I had such low expectations, I didn’t really want to be there. I hated my first night in my hostel. No one was friendly, I paid a lot of money for it, and it was very anti-social. But, I’m backpacking; I’m not allowed to be unhappy and I made myself a promise that I had to make the best out of any situation. And I did. I went out and became a tourist, saw things that I wanted to see and walked around until my feet were about to fall off. But I knew it wouldn’t become better until I met someone to hang out with, whether from my hostel or not.

I’m aware this blog is for all to see and I’m just going to say it because face it, we all use it, but I’m on Tinder. I don’t use it much, I just scroll through it and never actually meet anyone. While in bed one night, I decided to go on it because maybe there was somebody that would just be willing to show me around. I matched with plenty but a lot of them didn’t seem like they really wanted to show me around as much as buy me a drink and call it a night. The next day, while gallivanting around the city center, I received a message from, let’s call him Q. He suggested we go out for a beer at a local pub and he was quite friendly so I agreed as long as he got me at my hostel (safety precautions, duh). If there was a night I really needed, it was that one. Just to have interaction with a local and conversation that was entertaining to say the least. The best part about meeting a local is the chance to go to hole-in-the-wall pubs and wine bars, meet their friends, and learn something about the city with somebody else other than a pamphlet.

The following day, after I finished a tour (which I will explain in my London post), I received a message from Q asking where I was and if I wanted to meet. Within 12 hours, I felt like I had already made a best friend in London. It was as if I could talk to him about anything, invite him anywhere, and no matter what, he was there. It was exactly what I needed to make my time there better. I feel like Q knew me better than a lot of my friends back home. He took me around London, he understood that when I squealed walking into a chocolate shop, it’s completely normal. (It is, by the way…to squeal. It’s chocolate.) But what caught me off guard was when I said that I really wanted to go on the carousel and he replied with, “Oh thank god, I really wanted to do it also. I’m so happy you said that.” I’m a kid at heart. Always will be. And for somebody that has known me for 24 hours at the point to understand my little kid personality, was incredibly heart-warming. As the sun was setting, I wanted to head back because I needed to wash up and he invited me out with friends of his for drinks and dancing.

Since I learned to never turn down an offer for drinks, I gladly accepted and met them all out a few hours later. The minute I walked into the first bar, it was as if I’d known them for ages. They were so friendly and welcoming: buying me drinks, dancing with me, taking photos, and putting up with my shenanigans. And to think, if I hadn’t met Q, I most likely would’ve been home on a Saturday night having no clue what to do. I will tell you now, that night, will be one that goes down in history. I don’t think I’ve smiled that much in a long time.

The third day was my final day and Q had already said goodbye because I had to meet with my Couchsurfing host that day. But when I found out I wasn’t meeting my host until late, I let Q know that I would be in the park because it was just too nice out regardless of the fact that I still had so much left to see. Surprisingly, he offered to come with me and bring a blanket. The entire day, we sat under a tree in Hyde Park and talked for hours. He walked me to my train and carried me the entire way. If there was a more perfect ending to my trip to London, I couldn’t even guess what it could’ve been.

It is disheartening knowing that I am away from these wonderful people. I know, that I will meet many more. But these guys from the bar, Q, the experiences I had, stole my heart for those three days, and still do. If I could offer one piece of advice, it’s to welcome people into your life and they may surprise you. Don’t judge based on looks, age, or character. Make that decision in the end, after you’ve spent time with them. I fell in love with London because of these people and I am thankful every single day.

That being said, I wanted to write a letter to Q, which I hope he sees:

Dear Q,

My time with you was indescribable. You showed me that I can find my other half, a good friend, no matter where in the world I am. You took the time to show me around, to laugh at my jokes, to carry my backpack despite the fact that you’d known me for all of 72 hours. Thank you for showing me to let loose. To enjoy my time and those around me. Between the horrible beers and the amazing chocolate. The dancing that I hardly remember to walking in the park. My experience with you showed me what backpacking is about. To break free from self-containment and do something outside your comfort zone, and meeting you explains that perfectly. I can’t even explain how much you changed my perspective on London and people in this world. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and London is only a plane ride away.

Thank you, for making me fall in love with London. (and out of love with beer in London)

Xoxo ooooo(extra hugs),

Emily

Cheers.

Belgian Waffles: They really are THAT good

Blogging while traveling, a lot, is hard. Really hard.

Which means really long blog posts about every single thing I did in said country, with a lot of photos.

That being said….here we go.

 

When Sjors and I awoke at 11am the next day in Gent, we had to check out of our hostel and start heading back to Holland because Sjors had work the next day. But, before we did that, he said we had a little time so we decided to explore Gent for a little bit more. And let me tell you, Gent? Absolutely unbelievable. For such a small city, you wouldn’t expect much. But there was just so much to see. Maybe not a lot to do seeing that it was Sunday, but you keep thinking there’s nothing left to see and then you turn a corner and BAM! There’s more. But what blew our minds the most were the churches. Between the stained glass, wood work, and the size in general, I couldn’t even begin to tell you how extraordinary they were.

 

Before I left on my trip, I asked a few people, if you had to recommend one place in Brussels, where should I go? And I got pretty much the same answer: Bruges and Gent. Although we didn’t make it to Bruges, we heard it was pretty much a replica of Gent, but smaller. So for all of those backpacking and trying to add countries/cities to your list. I am telling you now, Gent is on there (and so is Galway, but I’m skipping 3 countries ahead)

Around 2pm we knew we had to head out, especially with a transfer in Antwerp. So we hopped on the train and headed an hour to Antwerp. I didn’t see much of it since our next train left in about an hour. So we walked around the city really fast, got a quick tour, and then did what anybody should do when they are in Belgium. Grab a waffle. I don’t care if you’re gluten-free, dairy-free, vegan, starving, full, or anti-social. Regardless of your status in Belgium, you go find a waffle. And I have to say, the ones in Antwerp Train Station were probably the best possible ones around. We asked a few locals and all of them led us there. I got one with chocolate and whipped cream on top and Sjors got whipped cream and cherries. Yes, you will feel nauseous after eating it, and yes, you will want to go into a deep coma, but you will not regret it one bit. They’re warm, sweet, delicious, and worth every Euro.

5pm and we are on the train to Hilversum, Holland (where Sjors lives), and on the train ride he explains how the railway works in regards to tickets and right now, I am going to try and break this down for any future travelers so you understand because it took me about 2 hours and I hate this system to this day.

TIP: So this card is called the ov-chipkaart (the card itself costs 7 Euro). It works in the same sense as any card or the subway in NYC. You put money on it and you swipe it when you go in. But here’s the kicker. So this card, you have to tap it when you enter the station and when you leave your final destination. Only then will you tap it again and be charged based on your distance (DO NOT TAP IT WHEN WAITING FOR A CONNECTING TRAIN) You MUST tap your card before getting on the train. People come around and check to see if you did (sometimes they don’t show up at all but don’t take that risk), and if you didn’t tap your card prior to entering, there is a 60 Euro fee that you cannot argue. (Luckily I never forgot to swipe). Here’s the semi tricky part. First of all, ALWAYS get the card because if you decide against the card and just buy a ticket every time, you get charged an extra Euro. Also, your card has to ALWAYS have a minimum of 20 Euros on it. So if you put 25 Euros on it, travel from Amsterdam to Hilversum and back, it’s 5.60 so you will be denied entry after that until you put more money on it. If you travel on discount, you only need a minimum of 10 Euros on it. How you get a discount isn’t hard if you are just friendly to anybody on the train. Any student or young adult in Holland gets a discount pass, if you go to the booth and select discount card, you get about ½ off the regular price on the ride but if the person comes around to check your card and sees it’s on discount, they may ask whose discount you’re on. That’s when you have to become friendly. Ask anybody around prior to the train ride if you can ride on their discount. If they say sure, then you’re all set. It’s that simple. But this card helps you save money but is also the biggest pain in the ass ever.

TIP: Credit and Debit cards!!! Some train stations in Holland only accept cards with the chip on the front. Anyone from the US, doesn’t have one, so always have cash on you if possible.

If none of that made sense, you can go to the ticket booth and they will explain everything!

Next up…Amsterdam!

Let the Journey Commence!

Well this is going to be difficult. Remembering 5 days’ worth of adventures and putting it all into one post.

Great. Which is exactly why I a breaking it up into 2 posts….maybe 3. We’ll see how I feel in an hour.

Quick synopsis of the flight:

                My flight from Denver to DC was very fast, but that is probably because I slept for pretty much all of it. The couple next to me was incredibly sweet. They were returning to Pennsylvania after a 2 weeks trip through Wyoming, South Dakota, and some other state. They said it was absolutely beautiful and wished me well on my trip, which I greatly appreciated. When the flight landed, I had a 4 hour layover in DC which was incredibly boring. In three words: Ate, Coffee, Texted. The End. The plane, however, from DC to Brussels was incredible. The seats were incredibly comfortable, you got a TV in front of you which allowed you to watch one out of about 25 movies, about 15 different movies and had the option to listen to music (really, really bad music) The meal was also amazing. I didn’t even know I was getting fed and then in front of my pops broiled fish, sesame noodle salad, fresh bread, and cheesecake! There was so much joy in my face that I didn’t have to pay extra for this meal, you don’t even understand. The only negative was the fact that I had to sit next to Mother Theresa. Meaning, she was old. And couldn’t hear anything. And also kind of had a slight resemblance to Mother Theresa herself. She would constantly tap me asking me to lean her chair back and yell at me to eat when I didn’t want to at all. It was an interesting flight to say the least.

The minute I touched down in Brussels, I couldn’t even try to stop smiling. It had begun. The backpacking trip I had waited for, for 4 years was finally beginning. That was, it started when I found Sjors. Which took a while. Once I got out of customs, I had to look for my friend, Sjors (if you didn’t realize that was a name before) My phone, of course, didn’t want to work for the exact 30 minutes I was freaking out that I couldn’t find him. Luckily he showed up and I got all 1,000 messages stating the trains were late and he would be there later on. Our hostel for the night was booked in Gent, but we decided to wander Brussels first before heading there.

I just love how the moment you leave a train station, you can tell immediately that you’re not in America.  The streets were narrow, the building close together, and the street names? I still don’t get why the names have to be THAT long! But that’s Dutch for you.

Sjors explained to me that seafood was extremely fresh because they get it right out of the ocean that connects to the dam. I really didn’t consider seafood at the time but all around me were signs for buckets of mussel and a beer special which lets you know exactly what we did first. It was clearly a tourist area but what the hell, right!? 15 Euros for a bucket of fresh mussels, a beer, and fries? Heaven. On Earth.  After we ate and I continuously took pictures of my food like a typical American tourist, he took me to Delerium, the most famous bar in Belgium. If you are in Brussels, this is a MUST. It is known to have the most beers on tap in the world. THE WORLD! I wish I could tell you what I got, but I don’t really remember. The highlight of our night was running into this guy, Fernando. He asked us a question about the beer and I knew that he was American so I asked where he was from and he told me New Jersey. That makes me happy to begin with but the kicker was he was living in Washington Township! The town right next to mine! Talk about a small world. So Fernando, Sjors, and I had a great conversation over some wonderful beer mostly about traveling until he had to head out. That was our cue to also leave and head for Gent.

Once we got back on the train, the entire ride, I tried to pronounce the name of every station we stopped at. I failed, miserably. But the man across from us seemed to get a kick out of me butchering every single thing that I said. That’s when he decided to join in and explain to me how pronunciation is different between Belgian Dutch and Holland Dutch. From that moment on, I decided to never attempt Dutch again. Sjors agreed.

When we got off the train, we headed straight for the hostel because it was getting dark and we had no map. That being said, we got lost. But it wasn’t our fault! Google maps lied. Once we arrived, I was exhausted but I knew the last thing I should do was go to bed. So we hung out with some others in the living room and played Jenga for a while. I’m a beast (I don’t know if that’s something I should admit). Then we decided to go get food (which consisted of, fries with mayo and horsemeat sausage... don't ask) and on our way back, we realized how beautiful Gent truly was. Everything was lit up with the dark sky as the backdrop. People were socializing, smiling, laughing, and it honestly felt as if I was living in a made up city. The beauty is incomparable to anything I've seen yet. Upon arriving back to Uppelink (the hostel), I decided jet lag and sleep are for fools so I made the decision to go out on the town since it was my only night to do so. So, me, Sjors, Irene, Alec, and Valerie went out to local bars. It was incredibly strange; not the bars themselves, but the walk there. We came across at least 3 different groups of people dressed in the most obscure way all because they were getting married. Turns out to be marriage weekend because everybody and their sisters were getting married. It was so much fun because they loved having me say things in Dutch and screaming and running around the square with them. I wasn’t so sad, though, when we ended up losing them.

After a few drinks, laughs, dancing, and smiles, around 4:30am we decided to call it a night….or morning….

This Rock has a Hole in it: Moab: Part 3

There was one spot that we had set on seeing no matter how long it took while on this excursion:

Maroon Bells. One of the most iconic scenes within the entire state of Colorado, with the famous photograph being of these three mountain tops as the backdrop to this beautiful reflective lake and trees that are changing colors right in the beginning of autumn.

We knew we wouldn’t have time to see them the next day seeing as we had to drive back from Utah and make it back to Colorado before dawn hit the following day. So we made it our mission to get to Maroon Bells and capture about 1,000 photos right before sunset. This meant leaving Vail at around 3:30pm, we could make it around 6:30-7 with sunset being around 7:45pm. Talk about cutting it close.

I continued the drive there and to make this story short, we made it there by 7:06pm. We were jumping for joy, freezing, screaming, and running as fast as possible to those picturesque mountains. I wasn’t as intrigued by them as Justin was, but the minute I saw them, I couldn’t even believe what I was seeing. It literally felt as if I stepped inside my computer screen wallpaper (which, in a sense, I did) The mountaintops were topped with dusts of snow, the lake acted as a mirror reflecting the mountains perfectly, and the trees were just ever so slightly changing from green to yellow and red. We couldn’t get out our cameras fast enough. We took as many photos as humanly possible until the sun disappeared behind the mountains.  

Thus ended the adventure to Aspen and onto Moab we went!

After 2 rest stops, we arrived at the entrance to Arches National Park around 12:45am. The best part about that was because it’s after 8pm, we got to just go in for free. But it was so dark out, we could barely see anything driving up the winding road. All we could recognize were dark shadows towering over us as we drove by. We knew, even being hidden in the darkness, that we were surrounded by beauty.

Since it was so dark out, we couldn’t read any sign regarding where to camp, so we pulled off to the side of the road and decided to sleep in the car. Exhausted? Yes. Miss an opportunity to take long exposure photographs? Absolutely not! After about 2 hours of laughing hysterically while taking insane pictures in the middle of the road, we headed to bead.

The next day, we decided to wake up at 6am and drive to the nearest arch we could find and run to catch the sunrise. Even with a lack of sleep, we were ready to go. The first arch we came across was huge. Admit it, you’re thinking, “Wow, arches, how exciting. Rocks with a hole in it.” (“This cake has a hole in it” You better get the reference) I know that’s what you’re thinking because that’s what I thought. But comparing yourself to the size of these formations was like putting a pea next to an elephant. They were ENORMOUS! Just smooth rock all the way up and around. It reminded me of building blocks I had when I was little. It made me smile.

After sunrise, we went to the famous Garden that had the double arch along with at least 4 others. Justin and I decided to do a “short” hike, which actually turned into a 4 hour hike. It was the best mistake we could’ve made. The hike was incredible. I felt like I was in The Land Before Time. Standing atop these rock formations, being practically blown all over the place by the wind, knowing that one wrong step and, to be blunt, you would die. The double arch was extraordinary, just one arch on top of another, with brave people standing all the way on top. There was an arch that you can tell, one day soon, it’s going to collapse. You have to wonder how they formed. Why in this one spot, all of these arches originated? Just goes to show that nature is an incredible gift that many people don’t appreciate as much as they should.

 

The sign said it was difficult but come on, it never really is. So we continued on to do the loop trail and it definitely became extremely difficult. We had to traverse across a smooth rock where if you slipped, you were going down. Then came this traverse around a small body of water but if you slipped you went into that water, which honestly, I didn’t want to happen since I had my camera on me. That last traverse took us over a half hour to cross and it was only 20 feet long. For once, my climbing abilities came in handy. For once. I’ll be honest, for a while, I thought I was going to be stuck out there. I have a huge fear of falling and having to climb these massive rocks with no protection didn’t help whatsoever. In the end though, when we finished, we gave one another a huge high five and could proudly say we did the entire loop that not many people will even attempt, giving us the opportunity to see the double arch and all its glory, a rock that looked just like the Titanic, and these rows upon rows of thin slivers of rock that went on for miles. The unfortunate part was we used up all of our time. We wanted to continue on to the Delicate Arch but we had no time, so we drove instead and took a few photos before heading home.

 

Our Moab trip was extremely short, but what we accomplished in about 30 hours still blows my mind to this day. Those arches…..they were just rocks. But in a way, they were masterpieces. They make you think, they make you smile, they make you appreciate life. I’ve never experienced such a beautiful scene. It’s as if they were trying to tell you a story.

And their story, is what created my story that you are reading Right. This. Second.

 

Cool, huh?