As it turns out, I have a bit of the travel bug. Whenever I return from a trip, even a mini-holiday, I rush right over to the computer and start obsessing over my next travel fix. I just returned from D.C. yesterday, and I'm oohing and ahhing over a trip to somewhere outrageous and totally unaffordable...
If you consider yourself an excursionista/o, you probably know what I'm talking about... There's something about being in an unfamiliar city, and depending on yourself to get around... This past weekend may have been a poor example, because I had dear Brooke to tour me around, but in general - I'm all about that slight feeling of fear, mixed with a dash of challenge, and a handful of adventure. It's like you're running on inflated adrenaline for the entire experience. Is this making sense?
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cue the love notes - right here. ;)