I'm addicted.
I've done more traveling these first six months of 2011 than I've ever had in my life. That's a feat considering how much I travel anyway. Then consider we're only five months into 2011 and I stayed put in Atlanta in February.
This year, I've done some amazing things: indulge in low-country cuisine in Charleston; visit Fort Sumter; climb Petit Piton in Saint Lucia and celebrate with a seafood buffet at Ladera; relax on Lover's Beach, eat at Edith's, and parasail in Cabo San Lucas; catch up with my cousin and friends in Honolulu; eat a loco moco; hike the Kalalau Trail; take a helicopter tour of the Napali Coast and Waimea Canyon; catch Yankees spring training down in Tampa with Yankee faithful; relax on the deserted Caladesi Beach (reached only by boat) or Siesta Key; visit pandas, giraffes, and elephants at San Diego Zoo; catch a Padres home game, catch a Texas Rangers home game; finally attend the Coachella Music Festival and its dry desert heat; high five David Hasselhoff at a Duran Duran concert; indulge in the seafood and po' boys in NOLA and at Jazzfest; dive face-first into the Famous Ferdi at Mother's; catch up with my brother in Las Vegas; have a burger at In & Out; hike the near 6,000-foot Angels Landing in Zion; wander through Queen's Garden in Bryce Canyon; hike to Delicate Arch at Arches National Park as I watch the wind steal my brother's hat; and rendezvous with co-workers for Texas BBQ in Dallas ...
This year, I've done some amazing things: indulge in low-country cuisine in Charleston; visit Fort Sumter; climb Petit Piton in Saint Lucia and celebrate with a seafood buffet at Ladera; relax on Lover's Beach, eat at Edith's, and parasail in Cabo San Lucas; catch up with my cousin and friends in Honolulu; eat a loco moco; hike the Kalalau Trail; take a helicopter tour of the Napali Coast and Waimea Canyon; catch Yankees spring training down in Tampa with Yankee faithful; relax on the deserted Caladesi Beach (reached only by boat) or Siesta Key; visit pandas, giraffes, and elephants at San Diego Zoo; catch a Padres home game, catch a Texas Rangers home game; finally attend the Coachella Music Festival and its dry desert heat; high five David Hasselhoff at a Duran Duran concert; indulge in the seafood and po' boys in NOLA and at Jazzfest; dive face-first into the Famous Ferdi at Mother's; catch up with my brother in Las Vegas; have a burger at In & Out; hike the near 6,000-foot Angels Landing in Zion; wander through Queen's Garden in Bryce Canyon; hike to Delicate Arch at Arches National Park as I watch the wind steal my brother's hat; and rendezvous with co-workers for Texas BBQ in Dallas ...
I'm working day 9 of 16 in a row, and I can feel the travel withdrawal symptoms developing: anxiety over being in the same city too long, racing thoughts of places to see, nightmares of not being well-traveled abroad, and the need to create lists - food lists, music lists, baseball stadiums to visit - all ultimately related to the travel experience! I don't check my email as much: I blitzkrieg travel sites looking for ideas, deals, hotels, breaks on airfare, and somehow try to do as much as possible without making it stressful. My friends joke that I could be a travel planner. I bet I could. Seriously. Earlier this year, I wasn't just planning Cabo when I talked with Leah. I was planning Hawaii and Florida too!
I've already booked things well into September. Kendra's wedding; yeah, I've thought that out and even hold tickets for Bumbershoot. Two weeks later is ACL; I've already booked a ticket to Houston and plan to catch an Astros game, maybe visit Johnson Space Center, and I've created a salivating BBQ eat list, tracking from Houston to Lockhart to Austin. Working backwards, Chicago and Lollapalooza is already mapped out. I have my fingers crossed for Nirali & Rishi's wedding. A BBQ run with Becca to Alabama and Tennessee, and will finally hit up the much eluded Rendezvous. Intercepting Joel and Christy in Maine in July. A trip back to the Northeast in June to help Leah move. I leave for Fort Lauderdale in about a week. A few days of relaxation in Islamaroda before the weekend in Key West.
The thing is that I really like Atlanta.
So who do I blame on this affliction? Excluding myself, there are many people to blame. There are also a few non-human entities to blame too.
My parents. Growing up, we went on a lot of family vacations with my parents and my Grandma. We took lots of road trips. We explored the Caribbean quite frequently. Many cruises when I grew up, the first one when I was under 10 years of age. We did Hawaii and Alaska within a six month window when I was in high school. That was awesome. So yes, my parents are to blame. Oh, and they came to America basically with one-way tickets when they were in their mid-twenties? Yeah.
Kendra. I must say, she may be the singular greatest influence. She had this need to see and do everything. It was ridiculously infectious. I blame her.
Leah. In the seven years we've known each other, we've rendezvoused all over the map: Boston, New York, DC, Minnesota, Austin, Nashville, Los Angeles, Atlanta, Cabo San Lucas, and Greece. I blame her too.
The medical field. All the interviews across the country for residency. For others, interviews across the country for medical school beforehand and fellowship afterwards. The medical diaspora pitting friends near and dear all over the country.
Too much good food. Yes, I will travel to NYC for bagels, pizza, and pastrami. I will not eat seafood in Atlanta; I'd rather wait until I'm back in NY, Charleston, or NOLA. Mexican food? I'll wait until I'm in Mexico, Texas, or Southern California. I'll fly to Kansas City for BBQ. I'll eat cheesesteaks in Philadelphia. Ever watch Man vs. Food? Probably a bad idea that I, as a doctor, idolize Adam Richman. Did I mention my BBQ list for when I go to Houston and Austin in September?
Dare I slow down? Maybe a little bit. Earlier this month in Dallas, I started to feel the exhaustion of my travels. Plus, when I have to mail a Mother's Day card from Nevada and get a haircut in Texas, I know that I'm maybe spending too little time at home.
Is there a treatment for this? You can give alcoholics benzodiazepines ... or alcohol. But for my withdrawal? I don't know. I'm still young, unattached, and energetic. I'm gonna keep going. Am I addicted? Hell yeah! If you find a cure, don't tell me. I'm loving this ride!
I've already booked things well into September. Kendra's wedding; yeah, I've thought that out and even hold tickets for Bumbershoot. Two weeks later is ACL; I've already booked a ticket to Houston and plan to catch an Astros game, maybe visit Johnson Space Center, and I've created a salivating BBQ eat list, tracking from Houston to Lockhart to Austin. Working backwards, Chicago and Lollapalooza is already mapped out. I have my fingers crossed for Nirali & Rishi's wedding. A BBQ run with Becca to Alabama and Tennessee, and will finally hit up the much eluded Rendezvous. Intercepting Joel and Christy in Maine in July. A trip back to the Northeast in June to help Leah move. I leave for Fort Lauderdale in about a week. A few days of relaxation in Islamaroda before the weekend in Key West.
The thing is that I really like Atlanta.
So who do I blame on this affliction? Excluding myself, there are many people to blame. There are also a few non-human entities to blame too.
My parents. Growing up, we went on a lot of family vacations with my parents and my Grandma. We took lots of road trips. We explored the Caribbean quite frequently. Many cruises when I grew up, the first one when I was under 10 years of age. We did Hawaii and Alaska within a six month window when I was in high school. That was awesome. So yes, my parents are to blame. Oh, and they came to America basically with one-way tickets when they were in their mid-twenties? Yeah.
Kendra. I must say, she may be the singular greatest influence. She had this need to see and do everything. It was ridiculously infectious. I blame her.
Leah. In the seven years we've known each other, we've rendezvoused all over the map: Boston, New York, DC, Minnesota, Austin, Nashville, Los Angeles, Atlanta, Cabo San Lucas, and Greece. I blame her too.
The medical field. All the interviews across the country for residency. For others, interviews across the country for medical school beforehand and fellowship afterwards. The medical diaspora pitting friends near and dear all over the country.
Too much good food. Yes, I will travel to NYC for bagels, pizza, and pastrami. I will not eat seafood in Atlanta; I'd rather wait until I'm back in NY, Charleston, or NOLA. Mexican food? I'll wait until I'm in Mexico, Texas, or Southern California. I'll fly to Kansas City for BBQ. I'll eat cheesesteaks in Philadelphia. Ever watch Man vs. Food? Probably a bad idea that I, as a doctor, idolize Adam Richman. Did I mention my BBQ list for when I go to Houston and Austin in September?
Dare I slow down? Maybe a little bit. Earlier this month in Dallas, I started to feel the exhaustion of my travels. Plus, when I have to mail a Mother's Day card from Nevada and get a haircut in Texas, I know that I'm maybe spending too little time at home.
Is there a treatment for this? You can give alcoholics benzodiazepines ... or alcohol. But for my withdrawal? I don't know. I'm still young, unattached, and energetic. I'm gonna keep going. Am I addicted? Hell yeah! If you find a cure, don't tell me. I'm loving this ride!
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