Packing is my cardio

Baggage Restrictions for International Travel, by Continental Airlines:

1 carry on bag, no more than 54 linear inches, no more than 40 pounds
1 carry on personal item (purse, laptop, etc.)
1 free checked bag, no more than 62 linear inches, no more than 50 pounds
2nd checked bag is $25, also no more than 62 linear inches, no more than 50 pounds

Checked bags that weigh more than 50 pounds and less than 70 pounds cost $50 extra per bag. Bags that weigh more than 70 pounds will not be accepted.

Okay, now let's take a look at what I packed:

1 carry on bag, exactly 54 linear inches, 35 pounds
1 abnormally large personal item (a backpack stuffed with my laptop, books, notebook, camera, cables, and of course a ham sandwich ;-)
1 checked bag, exactly 62 linear inches, weighing in at 66 pounds
1 checked bag, exactly 62 linear inches, weighing in at a startling 69 pounds!

Needless to say, I spent the better part of this evening sitting on my suitcases and cramming things in as I tried desperately to get them to zip... Eventually they did, but man, that was rough! I reeeeeally hope I don't have to open either one again for any reason until I arrive.

I'm leaving tomorrow at 1:30 PM, and surprisingly I'm not even a total mess about it anymore. I'm actually feeling really calm and really excited! The only thing that stands between me and Buenos Aires now is 19 hours of travel... ugh.

Wish me luck!!! Love to all. <3

Why Argentina?

Many people are wondering, why is Erica moving to Buenos Aires? I've been asked that a lot lately, and it's a fair question with a long answer. So I've obviously put a lot of thought into this, and feel that you curious ones deserve a complete answer. Here it is, in list form. (Not in order of importance, btw. It's all pretty important.)

1. I love to travel! I want travel to continue to be a huge part of my life, as it always has been. I'm always looking for an excuse to go abroad.

2. Specifically, I've been wanting to work abroad (ie. get paid to travel!) for many years. As much as being a travel writer and/or founding my own international school is the ultimate dream, I realized several years ago that teaching English abroad is probably the best way to get started, and the best way to live around the world and find employment in many different countries.

3. Teaching intrigues me. I'm not big on office jobs, jobs that require me to be chained to a desk for hours on end and all that jazz. I've been curious about teaching for a while, and I think TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) is the way to go, at least to start off. It seems like a great way to combine my love of travel with a profession that is flexible and creative. Plus, I'm a people person, so I think (I hope!) that I will love it and excel at it.

4. I went through a traumatic break up back in early September, and was simultaneously feeling like I needed a professional change, and realizing also that I won't be a spring chicken for much longer. It occurred to me rather suddenly this fall that if I want to pick up and move abroad again and really tackle this travel bug of mine, I better do it soon. I mean, lets face it, right now I am single, looking for a career change, childless, and I don't have a mortgage. It's kind of now or never.

5. I speak Spanish! So when I finally decided to take the plunge and look into TEFL programs and it came down to choosing a country, I decided to sacrifice higher wages (Asia) and go somewhere where I know the language, at least to start off. I figure I can always move somewhere else once I get certified.

6. So then I thought about which Spanish speaking country I should go to, and it seemed glaringly obvious. Argentina!! Why? Well, I've already lived and/or traveled in Spain, Mexico, Cuba, and all of Central America, so that pretty much narrowed it down to South America. And then I came to terms with that fact that I am a city girl and really want to stay in an urban environment, and started contemplating which cities seemed most exciting. Buenos Aires is a city I've always wanted to visit, and not only that, I have a close friend there- Ali! I'd been wanting to visit her down there anyway, and it suddenly all just clicked and made sense. Buenos Aires or bust!

That pretty much sums it up as best as I possibly can. And although it is scary and overwhelming at times, I also feel confident that this change will be a good one. How can following a dream and moving to an exciting new place be bad?

A couple of the best pieces of advice I have received recently are:

1) Just do it. I am not chained to a contract. I am free to stay as long as I want or come back whenever I choose. My friends and family will be here when I get back, and will love me when I'm gone.

2) I chose to do this all by myself, and for good reasons. Whenever I start to doubt myself and my decision, remember those reasons which brought me to this decision, and be happy that I am strong enough to follow those dreams.

Great advice. Keep it coming! I am listening.

A shot of brandy

After leaving Boston for good this morning, I had been home for all of, I don't know, maybe 10 minutes, before I took one look at my huge pile of crap to pack and long list of things to do and felt a surge of overwhelmed anxiety so deep and so intense that I burst into tears. The tears just wouldn't stop.

(Sorry if I'm boring you-- I realize lately that me being a sobbing mess is a recurring blog theme.)

Anyway, my mom came up to me and gave me a huge hug. She held me, stroked my hair, and did all the things a mom is supposed to do when her little girl is crying uncontrollably.

Then she pulled back and looked me square in the eye, and very seriously said, "Do you want a shot of brandy?"

Oh, Mom. <3

The Truth

...Bawling me eyes out.

Today (technically yesterday, whatevs) was my last day in Boston. I didn't do anything too exceptional during the day, because I didn't want to make too big of a fuss. My going away party was last Saturday (SO.MUCH.FUN.), and so I didn't want to create additional unnecessary drama. After all, I am super emotional about this move, and I didn't want to be set off by anything...

So I went out to dinner with some of my closest friends and drank a TON of beer. Like, tons. Specifically, Cambridge Brewing Company has these "towers" of beer, which I like to call beer bongs, but anyway each one holds more than 6 beers, and is huge. Yeah, 7 of us drank 3 of those.... and then we headed for Zuzu!!! We danced, we pranced, we drank some more, we did the funky chicken. (Side note: I saw a guy across the room that I went on a date with my first month here in Boston, and although I couldn't for the life of me remember his name, I was still struck by how everything had come full circle.)

...And then was time to say good bye.

I bawled and bawled and bawled. I don't mean to be such a baby, but man, these are my BEST FRIENDS. I somehow kept it together when Sara and Corey said good bye, because they left early and so I hadn't had time to process the whole thing. But when I went to say good bye to Kirsten, Allison, and Ben at the end of the night, I totally lost it. Yep, me, the crying girl in the night club. Shocking. It all just hit me, you know? It hit me that these were my last moments for a long time with these people who were more to me than just friends. They are my family. They are my entire social life. They make me so happy. And they are the ones who really get me.

...so few people do. I mean, let's me honest. I'm not your average chick.

And as I sit here typing as 2:51am, I am still crying, still so sad, still digesting all these emotions. Of course I know that this move is positive, that I'm going to be fine, and that there are plenty of exciting adventures ahead. I don't doubt it for a minute. But that doesn't make it any easier to look at my favorite people and know that I may not see them for a long time. Months... a year... I have no clue. And of course they will always be my friends. But we will never again have what we have now. It will never be what it is now again. That's just life. It evolves, we change. And change is good, but right now what I have and what I am leaving behind is too good not to sob about.

God, I'm babbling. My point: Thank you to everyone in Boston who has been a part of my life. Thanks to all of my awesome friends, roommates, co-workers, family... thank you all. When I first got here 3.5 years ago I thought I would hate it, and turns out I have found the most solid, awesome, life-long group of friends I have ever found. I am thankful for you all, and want you all to know how much I love you!!! I will miss everyone so much!

Tomorrow (today-- ahhh!!) I leave at 9am to go home to Westport to spend 5 days with my family, and then Thursday my plane leaves for Buenos Aires... here's to adventures, big risks, and following your dreams!!

And to my Boston friends: I'll be back. :-)

Moving Day = My Version of Hell

Oh, man, what a day. I think this has to go down in history as one of the worst.days.ever.

Today was moving day. As in, the day that I moved all my junk (and there is a lot-- I'm a total pack rat!) out of my apartment in Somerville, and into my mom's barn in Westport, to store it while I'm gone. Sounds simple enough, right?

GAH! From the very beginning, it was a shit show. First, my mom got sick and couldn't make it to help me move, thus dropping my entourage of merry movers down to just 2 of us-- my step-dad Bill and me. Then he hit some traffic on his way up, and we got a way late start. Meanwhile, last night I was up until 4:00am packing boxes and finishing up, because as we all know, I leave everything to the last minute, and was totally not ready. Then just 3.5 short hours later I woke up, and Kirsten picked me up at 8:00am to drive me to the Ryder rental truck place out in Stoneham. (Dude, don't ask. It was way cheaper than all the closer rental places.) Side note: thank god for Kirsten.

Anyway, I was able to talk the Ryder guys out of giving me a 15 foot truck, and drove away in a sexy, massive cargo van. Those things are even bigger than I thought!! No, seriously, driving one sounds like a freaking airplane. Vrrrmmmm vrrrmmmmm vrrrrroooommmmmmmmm all day long. Headache!!

Enjoy the visual...


Bill finally showed up, and we spent until about 3:00 loading up the van with all my junk... boxes boxes boxes, coffee table, chairs, more boxes, 3 bicycles... we packed it all in, and somehow it magically fit! Just about perfectly. Then we hopped in, at this point a couple hours behind schedule, and drove the 1.5 hour drive to Westport to unload.

Oh man, so we get there and the driveway is a sheet of ice. And it's a looooong farm town driveway, so this is no small thing. I went skidding up this crazy ice rink of a driveway in my massive vehicle, and barely made it to the barn, where Bill and I unloaded all my junk. Ugh, more heavy lifting, just what we needed. But that was nothing compared to when it came time to pull back out of the driveway...

The driveway was so icy that Bill suggested I cut across the field to the neighbor's lane and go out that way. Well, damn! Caught in a snowy ditch! Grrr... wheels spinning, I'm getting frustrated and panicking that I'm going to be trapped in this field all night when I have about 500 million other things to do!! So Bill is hollering for me to back up! now go forward! now stop! now slow! and I'm panicking and freaking out, and picturing a long night of waiting for a tow truck to haul me out of the neighbor's field. The look on my face must have been priceless. Finally Bill grabs the wheel and miraculously guides me out of the ditch and onto the street... I don't know how he did it, but he saved me from hanging myself. I was that stressed out.

Meanwhile, I'd told Kirsten I'd meet her at my house at 5:30 to load up a piece of furniture she'd left at my house and drive it to her place, and then had an 8:00 dinner date with Daniel. (<3) Ummm but given that it was 5:30 and I was just leaving Westport, um yeah, my plans were a little backed up. Speeding back to Somerville, I began to feel like I was going to pass out behind the wheel, and had to force myself to sing along to crappy radio tunes in order to stay awake. At one point, I even sang all the words to Stayin' Alive at the top of my lungs, complete with falsetto, all over the airplane sounds of my crazy loud moving van. Clearly, it was a dire situation.

An hour and a half later, back at my house, I realize there is no parking anywhere on my street, so I have to double park and Kirsten and I have to run in and grab this furniture thingy and run over the ice with it to get it into the truck while cars are behind us flashing their lights and honking with irritation. Chill, dude! And then the same back at Kirsten's house... no parking, more stress unpacking in the middle of the road. Good god it has been a long day.

At this point, on 3 hours of sleep, sore muscles, and not nearly enough coffee, I'm passing out at the wheel, cursing like a sailor, and fantasizing irrationally about pajamas and bed... mmmm sexy sexy pillows and blankets...

Finally, it's time to return the truck, but first I had to find a gas station that sold diesel fuel in the sleepy town of Stoneham at 8:00pm on a Thursday. Apparently that's a tall order, because I drove through practically the whole damn town (with Kirsten following behind me so she could drive me home, poor thing) passing station after diesel-less station... eventually found one, returned the truck, yadda yadda yadda, and made it to my very belated dinner with Daniel at 9:15.

PHO! Highlight of my day. Oh man. Pho.

As we sat slurping our pho and enjoying our final moments together before I leave, it occurred to me that I had reached new lows of shit-showdom and was more of a delirious and cracked-out mess than ever before. I practically begged Daniel, "please don't remember me this way!!" (He assured me he wouldn't, but I'm not sure I believe him.) Luckily, he accidentally (?) tossed curry rice in the lady's hair next to us, reminding me that I'm not the only crackhead in this story. :-) Best part was she didn't know it was there, and hell if I was gonna tell her!

Now I'm home, and for some reason blogging, when I really need to PTFO (pass the you-know-what out!!) I'm gonna go do that. My legs hurt, I'm running on no sleep, and if I ever see a moving van again, I might have to dropkick someone.

Good night!

Oh, Timing

Why is it that now that I am leaving in less than a month, I have started to make these really great connections with new people? I mean, I have lived in Boston for close to 3.5 years, and spent a good 1 of those years kind of lonely and wondering when I would find "my people." As time went on, friends slowly started trickling into my life bit by bit until I finally felt like I had a great group of close friends. And now that is has reached its peak and I feel happy and complete, and now that even more amazing people keep crossing my path, I am leaving!

You guys need to keep in touch. Seriously. I love my friends in Boston and I am going to miss you so much. And to all you new people in my life-- I hope you stick around. There is plenty of fun to be had when I get back. ;-)

I've got BA on the brain

After last night's mini panic-attack (I had nightmares about my trip going to hell in a handbasket all night long), today I decided to focus on all of the great parts of this move, and to stop worrying so much about what could go wrong. After all, bad stuff can happen anywhere, and I am just going to have to handle it as it comes. Besides, my tickets have been purchased, and off I go on February 5th, ready or not! Deep down I know that even in the worst case scenario, moving to Buenos Aires can't be bad! In fact, I think it's going to be really, really good...

One thing I am really looking forward to is learning to tango while I'm there, because tango is sexy, and I absolutely love to dance. I can't wait to meet some boys who actually know how to dance! And when I say 'dance' in this case, I mean like, actual choreographed dances, not just wiggling on the dance floor. (And by the way, I am not smack talking right now, because dance-floor-wiggling is totally rad in its own right. But I can find plenty of that here in Boston.)

Also, today on the train from Philly to Providence, I met an awesome woman and her 14 year old son who were visiting the States on holiday from Santiago, Chile! Not only did I find out that my Spanish isn't so rusty after all (we happily chatted it up en español for a couple hours), but she also invited me to come stay with them if I'm ever in Santiago. And I definitely plan to be in Santiago!! Apparently it's only about a 1.5 hour flight from BA, which means it would make a great excursion, and is yet another fun thing to look forward to.

So yeah, after some careful reflection, I'm realizing that I'm choosing this challenging path for myself because I know I can handle it, and I know it will be worthwhile. I've never been one to stay put for long, and I thrive on adventure. This is just the next chapter in my already-kinda-nuts life. Bring it, BA!

contradictions.

My mind is mud. I'm worrying. I'm realizing that most of my life goals are contradictions of each other, and I'm wondering more and more each day how and when I am ever going to 'figure it out'? I want to be settled, and to travel. I want my independence, along with true love. I want to write, teach, inspire, learn, explore, save the world-- all on my own terms. I want it all, I guess.

Which brings me to the situation at hand... Have I made the wrong decision?

I think this officially qualifies as Panic Mode.

Goodbye 19 Banks St!

Life is moving so fast right now. Last Wednesday, I posted an ad on Craigslist to sublet my room, and got zillions of responses. Then I put in my notice at work on Friday (my last day is January 16th! ahhh!!). I spent most of the day yesterday showing my apartment to potential subletters (while Kirsten baked cookies in my kitchen!), and then did the same again tonight (minus the cookies). [nom nom nom]

... and now all of a sudden, my room is rented! Just like that! It was so easy, and I'm so disturbingly on top of things.

I know I should be really really happy right now, and on a purely logistical level, I suppose I am. But right now, I'm sitting here, knowing both my job and my apartment have a finite end, and I'm a little bit sad. No more AIDS Action Committee. No more 19 Banks St. They are so much of my life here, and soon they'll be gone.

February 1st. The day that someone else moves in and I am no longer a part of this household. New roommates will come and go, walls will be painted, my landlord will continue to be a flake, and the guy next door will continue to play solitaire naked in his bedroom. And I'll be somewhere in Buenos Aires, doing SOMEthing. It's the "what?" that freaks me out.

Will I be happy? Will I find an apartment that I feel as at home in as this one, with roommates that I love as much as these ones, or more? Will I like my job? Will I even like teaching English, this career path I have chosen, yet haven't even tried yet? Will I be any good at it?

I mean, I know myself, and I know deep down inside that I've done crazier things than this, and this is just the next stop on my crazy life adventure. Hell, I moved to Cuba, where I couldn't communicate with my family almost at all because of that piece-a-shit embargo. I bought a one way ticket to Mexico and disappeared in Central America for 6 months. So I can do this, right?

It feels different because it's so "grown up" (whatever that means). In the past, my travels have always been either somehow connected to school studies or an internship, or they were me just being young and frivolous, with no more plan than to travel, camp, surf, meet people, blow through my money, and have the time of my life.

This time is different. I need to make new friends, find a new apartment, get a job... discover my new favorite divey drinking hole, find my local sex shop... I need to create a whole new life.

*deep breath*

Starting now, I am at the point of no return... I have no job and no house here! So it's official. I HAVE to go. (!!!)