And I might be next. Or maybe just dormant for the next two weeks. As we say goodbye to 2009 and hello to an early morning Jersey snowfall, I have given up hope of going someplace for New Years Eve. I succomb to my fate and here I am being completely honest about the downturn of my social life. It's like the Anti-International Steph.
I was thinking about hiding it but decided I should just put my sad little life out there. Isn't that what blogs are for? Plus I think my dad and Sarah Eilers are the only people who read this.
Due to financial limitations (and honestly general apathy about this New Years Eve), I will spend my evening at home. With my brother. At least we have treated ourselves to lobster (though it is not from Maine, Jimmy O'Brien would be terribly upset with me) and will most likely stick straws in bottles of wine. James likes cabernet and I am in the mood for some bubbly prosecco. Who knows, perhaps we will manage to have a little fun? Or maybe I will get drunk enough and leave incredibly awkward videos on people's facebook walls. Or run around with my new camera and take pictures of gnomes hidden around the house. I really do have such an exciting life. Luckily I am blessed with the ability to seriously entertain myself. Though if things do get really bad, I think I might hitch hike to the Colorado Cafe.
Please note: if I could have, I would have made the trek to Vermont. However, we all know how I like to treat myself to the finer things in life and it was finally necessary to show some restraint. I hope Katie is extremely surprised and am glad that my friends are all together. I miss you guys and thank you for your generous offers. We are so lucky to have each other and be able to celebrate life.
So this is me. Saying Happy New Year. I really am so optimistic about 2010. New beginnings (and well-deserved I think). I laugh hysterically when I think about my upcoming travels. Did I mention the fact that I am flying Kuwait Airways to India? I bet I will meet some superbly interesting folks on my airplane.
Actually, it is probably a good thing that I am not going away tonight. I have way too much to do before I leave -- between completing my checklist, my father's checklist, and quelling my mother's fears that I am a nut job. I am easily distracted because I enjoy looking at pictures of cats online more than I enjoy things like organizing my life. It is time to get serious about the fact that I will be outside of the United States for nearly 5 months.
I also need to create a packing list. This is something I have been thinking about discussing on the blog since I think I need some advice. So far it looks like I am bringing 3 tshirts, 1 long sleeve (that will really bring out the color in my beautiful eyes), 1 fleece like half zip, 1 rain coat. I will invest in a pair of pants that can also become shorts (never in my life did I imagine jumping on board that trend...), I have a pair of quick dry pants, 2 pairs of shorts, and a skirt. I also plan on bringing a scarf to hide my lovely hair and buying a wedding band to thwart potential Indian suitors.
Already included items in my pack will be a) mosquito net b) trendy mosquito hat c) lots and lots of bug spray d) pepto e) the drinking hat and f) a little gnome.
What else do I need? I just don't know. Should I bring my sleeping bag? Am I bringing too many articles of clothing? For all those people who ever made fun of me for my dirty white t-shirt, just wait. This will be exactly like that but intensified by 5 months.
So once again, happy new year. May your night be a bit more exciting than mine (though I won't be jealous for too long once I hop on my Kuwait Airways flight to India). My arms are wide open to welcome in this 2010 and embrace my nomadic life -- absent of showers but filled with stamps in my passport.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
The Cab Driver
Living in or near NYC, you are bound to hop in a frisky yellow cab. Maybe to a bar, maybe a quick shot uptown, or maybe on a Sunday morning racing to make a silly NJ Transit train back to where you live (maybe even you are living in your mother's attic?). This particular travel fiend (me) caught one going downtown and struck up a conversation with the driver who happened to be from India.
Most cab drivers are talkative, but in the span of the first five minutes of being in the cab and finding out I was going there solo, he said that a) he was happily married b) he felt I was "brave" for going to India by myself and c) asked if mamasita was Spanish for beautiful young lady. We had a couple of chuckles at these comments. Not sure where the last one was coming from though. I had no reasonable response to a or c but did mention that I was nervous about going by myself. He gave me a website (that I have yet to find on the internet) and wished me luck. Then we reached Penn Station, and it was time for me to return to my mother's attic.
I've been thinking a lot about that conversation since Sunday morning and so today went to the public library to take out some books. After all, the proper backpacking, budget traveler takes out potential travel guides from the public library, and I am waiting for Christmas to get my actual books.
Please note: At this point in my life, yes I am poor enough to live in my mother's attic (recurring theme through this post), yes I am poor enough that I refuse to part with $15 for a travel guide when Santa could afford to spend a few extra bucks and yes I am poor enough that this year I actually asked Santa for a haircut. I choose to save my money in search of curries and alcoholic beverages served in hollowed-out coconuts.
But let us not go off on a tangent here... and back to the public library... I checked out three books: a guide book, a young woman's narrative on her travels, and of course a non-fiction book on economic development and superpowers. After perusing through the travel guide, I started to read the narrative my dear friend suggested I read. Stay tuned because as of right now Holy Cow: An Indian Narrative is scaring the absolute crap out of me. I definitely see the potential of the story but at the moment, the words of my cab driver "you must be brave" are repeating over and over in my head.
HOWEVER, I will admit that I have only made it to page 11 so far. Maybe if the author hadn't started out with a terrifying airport pick-up scene I wouldn't be writing this and saying, "are those tickets really nonrefundable?"
Believe me, you can expect a full book report once I am finished with it. My friend Jen says to wait. She promises the end will be a good one. And I believe her, because the other books I took out seem quite optimistic. And because I have yet to meet someone who has had a terrible time there. And because International Steph has the itch and thought this would be hilarious.
Let's hope there is a reason I am doing this and doing it alone. Less than one month until departure so I shouldn't really be doubting myself, right? I guess it is okay to be nervous. After all, I am either really brave or utterly stupid. I can't wait to find out which one it is. I'm hoping the cab driver was right.
Disclaimer uno: I do actually enjoy living in my mother's attic regardless of how many times I mentioned it in this post. Disclaimer dos: I wish I had a picture to go with this post.
Most cab drivers are talkative, but in the span of the first five minutes of being in the cab and finding out I was going there solo, he said that a) he was happily married b) he felt I was "brave" for going to India by myself and c) asked if mamasita was Spanish for beautiful young lady. We had a couple of chuckles at these comments. Not sure where the last one was coming from though. I had no reasonable response to a or c but did mention that I was nervous about going by myself. He gave me a website (that I have yet to find on the internet) and wished me luck. Then we reached Penn Station, and it was time for me to return to my mother's attic.
I've been thinking a lot about that conversation since Sunday morning and so today went to the public library to take out some books. After all, the proper backpacking, budget traveler takes out potential travel guides from the public library, and I am waiting for Christmas to get my actual books.
Please note: At this point in my life, yes I am poor enough to live in my mother's attic (recurring theme through this post), yes I am poor enough that I refuse to part with $15 for a travel guide when Santa could afford to spend a few extra bucks and yes I am poor enough that this year I actually asked Santa for a haircut. I choose to save my money in search of curries and alcoholic beverages served in hollowed-out coconuts.
But let us not go off on a tangent here... and back to the public library... I checked out three books: a guide book, a young woman's narrative on her travels, and of course a non-fiction book on economic development and superpowers. After perusing through the travel guide, I started to read the narrative my dear friend suggested I read. Stay tuned because as of right now Holy Cow: An Indian Narrative is scaring the absolute crap out of me. I definitely see the potential of the story but at the moment, the words of my cab driver "you must be brave" are repeating over and over in my head.
HOWEVER, I will admit that I have only made it to page 11 so far. Maybe if the author hadn't started out with a terrifying airport pick-up scene I wouldn't be writing this and saying, "are those tickets really nonrefundable?"
Believe me, you can expect a full book report once I am finished with it. My friend Jen says to wait. She promises the end will be a good one. And I believe her, because the other books I took out seem quite optimistic. And because I have yet to meet someone who has had a terrible time there. And because International Steph has the itch and thought this would be hilarious.
Let's hope there is a reason I am doing this and doing it alone. Less than one month until departure so I shouldn't really be doubting myself, right? I guess it is okay to be nervous. After all, I am either really brave or utterly stupid. I can't wait to find out which one it is. I'm hoping the cab driver was right.
Disclaimer uno: I do actually enjoy living in my mother's attic regardless of how many times I mentioned it in this post. Disclaimer dos: I wish I had a picture to go with this post.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
The Father
When I first moved back home, I thought it would be hilarious to start a blog called something like, "Weird Things My Brother Does." However, now that I have tickets to Asia, maybe it would be more hilarious to share the emails that I get from my father. Tom is a pretty funny man. Unfortunately most of the time, we seem to be the only ones who share a type of humor. Either way, he cracks me up and today's email did not disappoint.
"From Mom's Good Friend, Hil" was the subject line. I had no idea what he was referring to until I opened it up and saw links from the state department. Yes, he likes to refer to Hillary Clinton as my mom's good friend ever since 1992 when she threw a fundraiser for the Clintons and the theme was Hillary's birthday party. My poor brother even thought Hillary was coming to blow out the candles and told his entire fourth grade class. She did not come.
Anywho, the links directed me to terrorist warnings in the countries I plan to visit. Oh, Tom. You make me chuckle. Apparently India and Thailand do not make it onto the Tom Finn's Approved Places of Visit. OH WELL (not much does)! The tickets are nonrefundable, and the visa applications are about to be processed.
Speaking of visa applications, I realized this morning that the faithful old passport I have might run out of room by the end of my travels. There will be at least 3 visas stamped in and hopefully lots o' countries. Not to mention the hope that I will be accompanying young adults to a foreign land this summer. I think one of my goals should be to fill up my beautiful passport by the end of 2010. At that rate, I will be onto my third passport and might have to officially change my name to International Steph. Also, I am dying to receive the brand-new, uberpatriotic U.S. passport.

"From Mom's Good Friend, Hil" was the subject line. I had no idea what he was referring to until I opened it up and saw links from the state department. Yes, he likes to refer to Hillary Clinton as my mom's good friend ever since 1992 when she threw a fundraiser for the Clintons and the theme was Hillary's birthday party. My poor brother even thought Hillary was coming to blow out the candles and told his entire fourth grade class. She did not come.
Anywho, the links directed me to terrorist warnings in the countries I plan to visit. Oh, Tom. You make me chuckle. Apparently India and Thailand do not make it onto the Tom Finn's Approved Places of Visit. OH WELL (not much does)! The tickets are nonrefundable, and the visa applications are about to be processed.
Speaking of visa applications, I realized this morning that the faithful old passport I have might run out of room by the end of my travels. There will be at least 3 visas stamped in and hopefully lots o' countries. Not to mention the hope that I will be accompanying young adults to a foreign land this summer. I think one of my goals should be to fill up my beautiful passport by the end of 2010. At that rate, I will be onto my third passport and might have to officially change my name to International Steph. Also, I am dying to receive the brand-new, uberpatriotic U.S. passport.

Who wouldn't want something like this to be able to read at night before going to bed? Reminding you of home while you are bundled up in a mosquito net... By the way, I think if I were a page in the new passport, this would be it.
Just one last thought on the new passport though -- its purpose is to allow you to travel internationally, but it just makes America so awe-inspiring you never want to leave. Quite the conundrum if you ask me.
disclaimer 1: yes, I swiped this picture from the internet. disclaimer 2: I am in no way slandering my brother when I mention him.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
The Standardized Test
Today I took the GREs. When I first decided to take time off, I was planning on applying and going to grad school for fall 2010. This got put on hold as I realized a) I am not that organized and b) there are still some opportunities I would like to pursue before settling in on a final career/further academic path. Life is full of experiences and so I wasn't worried and in fact feel liberated that I can continue on this adventure without firm commitments at the end.
However, today was one of those days where I pretended to be on a particular path. I was part of the real world as I punched in the address on my GPS and drove over to the stereotypical Jersey corporate park. Not to say I wasn't looking forward to it. I happen to be of the odd breed where I enjoy standardized testing. So I took the test, showing off my algebraic skills, knowledge of the Pythagorean theorem, fabulous way of critiquing arguments and essay. Please note, I left out my superior vocabulary. In today's advanced computer world, I received my scores immediately and was shocked to discover I am a math genius but my grasp on the English language is lacking. Apparently antonyms and sentence completions aren't my thing.
I went through a few tidal waves of emotion until I realized that I had in fact done better than expected. I can always take the test again, but it was significant to be reminded of how intelligent I am. I know there are a few out there who doubt me, but something I won't forget on this adventure (and I know International Steph will see to it that I don't) is that when the day is over I am still me. I have a lot to offer and fortunately there is no shortage of self-confidence flowing from this girl. Eventually I will get into some super classy grad program and be beyond successful (and I mean using my own definition of success) but for now I am more than satisfied seeing the world. Anyone in my future who doubts that should probably just hop out of the way of this high-speed train.
Anywho, enough of that boring mumbo jumbo -- Now I can fully focus on plans for this fabulous trip. No more flashcards. The rest of the week consists of additional passport photos, visits to the Indian embassy, appointment making to get lots o’ vaccinations, and housewarming parties.
Deb (the mother of this blog writer) suggested Tom (the father of this blog writer/recently divorced from Deb) join me on the India leg of the trip as she is getting nervous for me going alone. In order for that to not become a reality, I must become super organized and make some concrete plans for the solo leg of the trip. Joining forces with Tom in India would require a whole new blog. Maybe entitled “Please trample me with elephant” or “Motorcycle diaries: the Asia version.” It’s a toss up.. though might be hilarious...
Stay tuned. Tomorrow we get closer to the answer to whether or not I am homeless upon return AND on Thursday we find out if International Steph is granted a visa to India. Cross your fingers YES on both accounts.
However, today was one of those days where I pretended to be on a particular path. I was part of the real world as I punched in the address on my GPS and drove over to the stereotypical Jersey corporate park. Not to say I wasn't looking forward to it. I happen to be of the odd breed where I enjoy standardized testing. So I took the test, showing off my algebraic skills, knowledge of the Pythagorean theorem, fabulous way of critiquing arguments and essay. Please note, I left out my superior vocabulary. In today's advanced computer world, I received my scores immediately and was shocked to discover I am a math genius but my grasp on the English language is lacking. Apparently antonyms and sentence completions aren't my thing.
I went through a few tidal waves of emotion until I realized that I had in fact done better than expected. I can always take the test again, but it was significant to be reminded of how intelligent I am. I know there are a few out there who doubt me, but something I won't forget on this adventure (and I know International Steph will see to it that I don't) is that when the day is over I am still me. I have a lot to offer and fortunately there is no shortage of self-confidence flowing from this girl. Eventually I will get into some super classy grad program and be beyond successful (and I mean using my own definition of success) but for now I am more than satisfied seeing the world. Anyone in my future who doubts that should probably just hop out of the way of this high-speed train.
Anywho, enough of that boring mumbo jumbo -- Now I can fully focus on plans for this fabulous trip. No more flashcards. The rest of the week consists of additional passport photos, visits to the Indian embassy, appointment making to get lots o’ vaccinations, and housewarming parties.
Deb (the mother of this blog writer) suggested Tom (the father of this blog writer/recently divorced from Deb) join me on the India leg of the trip as she is getting nervous for me going alone. In order for that to not become a reality, I must become super organized and make some concrete plans for the solo leg of the trip. Joining forces with Tom in India would require a whole new blog. Maybe entitled “Please trample me with elephant” or “Motorcycle diaries: the Asia version.” It’s a toss up.. though might be hilarious...
Stay tuned. Tomorrow we get closer to the answer to whether or not I am homeless upon return AND on Thursday we find out if International Steph is granted a visa to India. Cross your fingers YES on both accounts.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
The Blog
Last week I purchased some plane tickets. January 14 to India, February 16 to Bangkok and then a whopping 33 hours back to JFK on May 24. Many suggested I start a blog to keep friends and family updated with my travels, and so I figure why not start today? After all, people love to hear about my life and there is lots to be done pre-departure. It might even be interesting.
You might say I have a bit of a reputation among friends and fellow travelers. Personally, I think I am pretty normal, but there is something about my antics that have led to the name International Steph. She loves to come out in Spain, Argentina, Peruvian hospitals, Canada, and even in places like Atlantic City. In fact, she started to creep out this weekend on the Taj Mahal dance floor next to a man with a walker and a prosthetic leg, then threatened to come out again until her friends swooped her away from an Abercrombie and Fitch clad gambler at the bar. She tends to act before she thinks (though not necessarily in a dangerous/detrimental way), but she also is prone to trying out new experiences and meeting lots of interesting people. This blog will hopefully serve to keep her in line but more importantly keep me connected with the friends and family I will miss while I am abroad (I might even miss James).
I can't wait for this adventure, especially as my future is quite unknown upon my return. I might be homeless, definitely seasonally employed, looking to buy a cat for company and most likely broke. So from now until the end of May when I touch back down to the U.S. and celebrate with friends Maine-style for Memorial Day, I hope I am able to entertain you with stories of packed trains, Bollywood dancing, bicycle rides, elephants, malaria-free travel, and whatever else may come my way.
You might say I have a bit of a reputation among friends and fellow travelers. Personally, I think I am pretty normal, but there is something about my antics that have led to the name International Steph. She loves to come out in Spain, Argentina, Peruvian hospitals, Canada, and even in places like Atlantic City. In fact, she started to creep out this weekend on the Taj Mahal dance floor next to a man with a walker and a prosthetic leg, then threatened to come out again until her friends swooped her away from an Abercrombie and Fitch clad gambler at the bar. She tends to act before she thinks (though not necessarily in a dangerous/detrimental way), but she also is prone to trying out new experiences and meeting lots of interesting people. This blog will hopefully serve to keep her in line but more importantly keep me connected with the friends and family I will miss while I am abroad (I might even miss James).
I can't wait for this adventure, especially as my future is quite unknown upon my return. I might be homeless, definitely seasonally employed, looking to buy a cat for company and most likely broke. So from now until the end of May when I touch back down to the U.S. and celebrate with friends Maine-style for Memorial Day, I hope I am able to entertain you with stories of packed trains, Bollywood dancing, bicycle rides, elephants, malaria-free travel, and whatever else may come my way.
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