There I was, standing at the edge of a cliff, looking down at the deep blue of the Agean Sea and the jagged tips of the white rocks that would surely kill me along the way down.
The bronzed stranger I’d come with was treading water below.

I’d been wanting to start volunteering in Mexico in some way, shape or form, since I finalized the idea to come and live here. It’s a good way to become more involved in the community and to feel a connection to the people of the city. It could be a way to make new friends. And of course, great practice for my Spanish-learning. So, why didn’t I start sooner?

Flight attendant life can be a lonely one. Or so they say.
I wrote this poem a couple years ago, processing my feelings about life on the road. Of the loneliness my peers talked about that I couldn’t seem to feel. Except…
Except for the times when I slowed my pace, sat in place, long enough to sit and write. Long enough to feel. And it turned out, to my surprise, it was more complicated than I thought.

I’ve officially been in Mexico for two weeks now. Living between Mexico City and the trunk of my car in Boston. The city is enormous. I’ve only seen a very little bit of it, but what I’ve seen I like very much. There is green space, good food for days, and I have felt completely safe thus far. But as with all changes, this one has not gone off without a hitch. Whatever my insta account may look like, it’s not all fun and games and gallivanting about. Things have been…interesting. For

I can’t believe I even have to go into further explanation here. Sea turtles. Babies. Bam.

Every travel blog I consulted before my visit to Puerto Escondido suggested the turtle release as a must-do event. And although they all raved about it, somehow their descriptions didn’t do it justice. Call it my skepticism, but it just didn’t sound thaaaat amazing. Happy to report that I was way off base and to pass along the same advice as all the others: this is one thing you MUST do when in Puerto Escondido.

Summers in New England are short, but oh-so-sweet. Any native New Englander knows you’ve got to take advantage of the sunshine and high temps while they last because once the first frost hits, it’s parkas, shovels, and icy winds lashing your face for at least four months. I have been making the most of my Maine Summer and spending lots of time in the great outdoors. Here are four of the best hikes in Southern Maine that I’ve found.

I rarely gripe about my job because it’s kind of the best thing ever, but often people ask about my worst stories, my pet peeves, the worst thing someone could do on a plane. The simple answer is it’s different for everybody. Some things that bother my coworkers I could not care less about. And then there are some other little things that bring me to the feeling of Britney that time she shaved her head and umbrella-smashed a window. Since I am just one girl in a big, airplane-filled world, I can only speak to my own experience & opinions. These personal pet peeves are mine alone and are not representative of flight attendants as a whole.

It is so, so frustrating, especially as a “writer” to not be able to say what you want, or to have to speak so poorly. To be getting words or grammar wrong all the time. It’s exhausting having to use my brain so much to say something so simple. I found myself worrying that the foundation I have (the words and phrases and structures I’ve learned) is not strong enough to be building new grammatical structures and words and verbs on top of it. I wondered for a second: “Am I in over my head?”

As of August 26, I haven’t had a drink in six months. It is without question the longest I have ever gone without alcohol since age 17. I was pondering what to write about this week for the blog, as I do on Mondays, and this realization popped into my head. And, while I doubted what significance this time marker has on travel or life as a full-time Flight Attendant, it has real significance in my real life. Why I stopped drinking, what impact it’s had, the benefits and concerns for the future…

month ago I packed my bags and left for Mexico. With an apartment booked until February there, and none here in Boston, my primary residence for the time being is Calle Salvatierra, CDMX. I’ve been back in Boston, working on airplanes, staying up overnight, catching up on schoolwork and freezing my tail off. I’ll be here for another full week and it feels like an eternity to be away from the new place I’m trying to settle into. But I’ve got to work and its not a quick flight home and its also not free. So I stay a bit longer, stack all of my trips in these few weeks. And then I’ll go back. This is commuter life. I knew it would be different, and I knew there would be challenges. And I’m still figuring it out.
So how is it going?