All in Travel

A Night in Albuquerque

I left Marfa in the early afternoon. I packed up my green backpack, tossing it alongside my food boxes into a little red wagon El Cosmico provided. I was heading to meet my childhood friend Rachel in Albuquerque. We were planning on meeting at the Albuquerque airport. I would pick her up at noon the next day. We would grab a bite at some online recommended restaurant and make the forty five minute drive to Santa Fe. I had chosen to stay just one night in Albuquerque so that when I woke, I could take my leisurely time, go to yoga, make breakfast, before picking up Rachel. Unfortunately, the weather had other plans and Rachel ended up on a ten hour pilgrimage to Santa Fe arriving almost a full day late.


I have always been a weirdo. Not your lovable, attractive, manic pixie dream girl weirdo, more like your chubby, loud talking, entire rotisserie chicken eating weirdo. Growing up, I learned to be one of the boys. As the brilliant Gillian Flynn said in Gone Girl, “...Cool Girls are above all hot.”

Navigating Covered California, While Navigating to Marfa

The night before I left Austin for Marfa, I had terrible nightmares. I had been navigating the confusing Covered California health insurance website for a few months now. Despite having done what I thought was required, my application had been “pending” for weeks. T was kind enough to look at it for me and with his help I uploaded the final necessary documents. In order to access the market place and receive any kind of tax credit, you must fill out your expected income for 2017.

Austin, TX

I sat in traffic in Houston, Texas around 5:30PM. The city towering business offices and huge strip malls on either side. I sliced an avocado with my pocket knife and dumped the green inside into my lidded oversized plastic rice container. I drove through Houston spooning rice and avocado into my mouth with abandon. I had intended to wait until I got into Austin, to eat something local, but with the traffic and my huge meal bag in the passenger seat, I decided to eat “dinner” in traffic, plastic jug between my knees.


The last time I was in New Orleans I did not go to bed before 5am. I was there for an art exhibition by Dashboard, a curatorial organization I work with in Atlanta. We stayed 6 of us (sometimes as many as 10) in a beautiful AirBnB in the Bywater, equipped with a pagoda and a  wooden hot tub with no temperature control. We never quite figured out how to safely sit in it, the temperature shifting between freezing and boiling human soup pot. My best friends and I laughing uncontrollably piled on top of each other on the couch. We chased chickens down the street as someone opened the chicken coop, moments before we left for the airport. To say it was fun would be an understatement. It was wild.

Leaving ATL

It was much harder to say my goodbyes than I anticipated. I woke up early to finish packing my food (you can see my obsessive list here) and put on my new bike rack and roof rack. After decking-out my car in the latest (and cheapest) across country gear, I loaded up, and drove out. Before getting too far, I stopped at a nearby coffeeshop to meet two of my best girlfriends for caffeine and one more laugh. I found my girls sitting at the back of the shop, diligently working on laptops and scanning their phones, both dressed in their finest Rihanna approved athleisure. I ordered my coffee and skipped over.

Packed and Ready to Go

Tomorrow morning I leave Atlanta and head to New Orleans on my first across country stop. It is bitter sweet leaving. I find myself oscillating between manic excitement and blind terror. Watching my friends and family well up with tears has been harder to take than I anticipated. It feels so wonderful to be loved and so heartbreaking to see the ones I love sad to see me go.