The Final Countdown


The “Final Countdown” song followed me around all day yesterday. Once as the original glam metal version, another in a syncopated sample beat form, and the last in the grocery store as easy listening. I’ll take that as a good sign:)

Today/Tonight marks the first day of the abroad portion of  my world domination tour, and the past few days have been spent crossing my t’s and dotting my….er…. lower case j’s (see Wayne’s World for reference).

I have been inoculated, poked, prodded and pilled.


My pensive, bandaged lady post vaccinations. Central America here I come!

I am conditioned to want to carry all possibly needed essential items with me, as most Park Rangers are, but have narrowed it down to basic essentials and pantalones con extra room. ¡Buen provecho! 

I feel that I am prepared for an array of possible scenarios including, but not limited to: cybernetic revolts, extraterrestrial invasions, zombie apocalypses, travelers diarrheas and seasonal allergies.

Inventory Roll Call:

  • Borrowed backpack (thanks Mr./Mrs Abeling!): Check!
  • Karma – from helping an international tourist avoid a parking ticket: Check. Check!
  • A collection of miniature luxuries. Check.
  • English to Spanish translated understanding of “women’s bathroom.”  Check! Damas, senoras and mujeres bano/sanitarios are all acceptable. Why is this crucial?  I remember the first time I went to an LGBT cafe where they used gender symbols on the restroom doors instead of words. I held it in until I got home, too scared of the deserved earful I would have received had I asked anyone at my table.  Fool me once! Also, I don’t want to catch anyone with their pants down.
  • A loose understanding of where I am going and what I am doing there.

Let’s do this.

See you in a month!





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