Category: travel

travel

will the real slim shady please stand up?

abby mumford

by the time you’re reading this post, it will have been written by past abby. present abby is in italy and unable to access this thing called her blog, but she didn’t want her dear readers to go without a post because, well, she’s (hopefully) off having fun gallivanting around italy and falling in love with vino and eating her weight in gelato and topping that off with another bowl of pasta and taking pictures of all that’s european and supervising a rather large work project and most definitely not getting lost, AND SO, she couldn’t be the one having all the fun. her readers need some too. welcome to the fun.

so that’s past abby and present abby, but what about future abby? what’s she up to?

well, if you ask 4 year old abby, she’d just ask where her blanket is. she doesn’t care (yet) about future abby. just the whereabouts of her blankie. and future abby (who is, let’s say 7) would pull the blanket out from in between the tangled sheets.

if you ask 13 year old abby, future abby (who is, let’s say, 17) gets her license on the very first try. the first of the mumford kids to accomplish that. HOORAH. but also, she’s the first that had to wait until she was 17 to be able to drive. dumb NJ laws.

if you ask 17 year old abby, future abby, (who is, let’s say 18) goes off to JMU for undergrad and despite balling her eyes out and feeling very scared for college to start, finds that the southern charm of virginia suits her and finds herself balling (again) when it’s time to come home for the summer. ah, the tears of youth.

and 19 year old abby would say to 18 year old abby, talk to your science professor when you’re having trouble! in a freshman science class that’s got a couple hundred kids, the prof can’t know the difference between you trying hard, but still having trouble vs. you deciding the kegger in apartment 205 is more important than science homework, so if you talk to him, he’ll then know it’s that your brain is having trouble rather than just deciding to take the afternoon off. so, go talk to him!

and 19 year old abby discovered the art of persuasion when she decided she wanted to study abroad in london for a semester, but she’d only do so if she had a familiar face with her. and thus began her campaign to convince R to come with her. note: abby FTW. and come on, it’s not like me convincing R to study abroad was a bad idea. living in london is never a bad idea. (“this sounds familiar!” says 29 year old abby, who wonders when her persuasion skills got so rusty, which is why she’s now alone in italy.)

21 year old abby waves happily from the other side of the pond. CHEERS!

and 21.4 year old abby goes on spring break to italy (venice, rome, florence) and 29 year old abby looks down the coast hoping to see the ghost of her former self (along with R and J). 29 year old abby thinks that would be AWESOME if she could see the ghost of her former self, like the time trials in Mario Kart where you can race against your best time which takes the form of a ghostly Toad. (yes, Toad was my character of choice).

if you ask 22 year old abby, future abby (who is, let’s say 24) says that boston is great. come on over!

if you ask 25 year old abby, future abby (who is, let’s say 27) happily skips across the lesley U stage during graduation. that MFA is totally worth it. so stop dilly dallying and apply already!

if you ask 29 year old abby, she’d tell everyone that she’s never typed her name so much. it’s to the point where the word abby sounds weird now. agreed?

and what would you tell abby (any age, any year, any incarnation) if she asked you to leave her a message so she has something to read upon her return to the states? OR you could just wish my friend melissa many happy returns of the day cause it’s her birfday. and that’s a cause for confetti.

travel

arrivederci

abby mumford

that’s pretty much all i have to say at the moment, though i will admit, my high school french kicked in for a moment and i wanted to say bon voyage, except that’s a little weird for me to tell YOU “good journey”, isn’t it? except it’s not because YOU go on journeys every day as YOU traverse the highways and local roads and sidewalks and stairs on the way to work whether it’s 40 miles, 4 miles, or 4 steps away. so, i take it back, i do wish YOU bon voyage on YOUR daily journeys.

and i wish ME bon voyage, as i embark on my first solo international trip. starting tomorrow night. and ending 10 days later. don’t forget me while i’m gone!

actually, YOU can’t, my blog has special things in store for YOU. special things YOU’ll have to come back to see because i wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise. let’s hope the blog works as it should and doesn’t ruin its surprise for YOU. that would be typical though. technology turning its back on me and on itself whenever i come around. i don’t know why that is. i’m part of the generation that’s supposed to be whiz bang good at this stuff. maybe i’m just not good at whizzing and banging and uh, wait a second. now the words are failing me, so i best bid YOU adieu and let’s hope i don’t have to utter the words “non capisco” more than 87 times per day. and let’s hope the italian weathermen are just as inaccurate as the american ones because i’m not liking the look of this forecast, which says rain, light rain, AM showers, PM showers, thunderstorms, um, italy? really? i thought you were all sun and vino all the time. you’re not? well the italy in my head is, so please realign yourself.

ok, ok, ok, i’ll stop stalling and get to packing and provided i don’t get lost in translation, i’ll see YOU on the flip side.

travel

getting to know you. or just me.

abby mumford

i’ve heard that in order to really know someone, you should travel with them. and considering i’m leaving for italy in 12 days, i guess i’m about to get to know myself really well.

here’s what i know pre-solo-international trip:

i have blonde hair.

i have played, currently play, and will continue to play sports for the rest of my life. and when i get too old to play, i’ll continue to watch and support the local teams.

i am severely directionally challenged. it’s annoying. and almost unbelievable. and it appears to rub off on people when i’m with them.

i love wine. and beer. i know a lot more about beer than people originally suspect, so much so that the majority of my male coworkers ask me what they should get. at lunch. (yes, we occasionally get treated to a beverage at lunch).

i read YA books. all the time. i used to say it was for research purposes (since that’s what i write), but i can now admit that i just plain like that genre better than adult books (no, not THAT kind of adult book).

i got a new phone (droid incredible) and activated it this past weekend. i have officially joined the 21st century. it’s amazing and confusing all at once. sometimes i feel like i’m the only one of my generation who has a hard time with technology and as such, i’m learning how to use it through trial and error. mostly error and mostly, by accident. but by accident or on purpose, i feel powerful with this mini computer in my hand. and less alone. because now i can contact anyone on phone, email, text, skype, or on TWITTER. yes, folks. i can now access TWITTER on my phone. my life is complete. (wow, that’s strangely sad.)

i worry a lot. about everything. about anything. i realize it’s a waste of time. but i can’t stop. especially when it comes to this upcoming trip to italy. and as a result of all this anxious energy, i’m planning out every inch of my trip. but that can be bad because things will get knocked off schedule and i have to remember to remain flexible. (what’s italian for “go with the flow?”)

i love pizza. especially this kind.

i adore ice cream. and i’m obsessed with this cookies and cream ice cream cake from JP licks. it’s an ice cream shop local to massachusetts and honestly, one that isn’t my favorite. i’d rather go to christina’s in inman square or berryline in cambridge. but my roommate got this cake as a thank you for taking a last minute babysitting job. and let me tell you, this cake is better than dollars. (i feel like we’re in that trident commercial where the dad comes home, opens his wallet to find it empty, and asks the babysitter if he can pay her in trident layers gum. she squeals with excitement. but this cake is WAY better than gum, even trident layers). i find it weird that i like this cake so much because 95% of the cake is ice cream from JP licks, which i’ve already established isn’t my first choice. there must be some other ingredients they toss in there to make it so extraordinary. and you better believe that for every birthday party i attend from here on out, i’m bringing one of these. you know you want to invite me now, don’t you?

i write handwritten thank you notes after christmas. and my birthday. and random other times i deem thank you note worthy. my mom trained me right and, well, who doesn’t love getting a handwritten note in the mail? i know i do.

even though i crave it, i haven’t had a cup of coffee in approximately 9 months since it makes me feel sick. here’s hoping the italians put something different in their espresso because i’m about to drink it. not right this second, but you know, in approximately 12 days.

i’m the 3rd of 4 kids. and i’m the shortest. by 8 inches.

i ask a lot of questions, especially during movies. i find movies hard to follow because it’s not like a book where i can just go back and re-read. so i ask questions. to the annoyance of everyone around me. perhaps that’s why i don’t watch many movies. i don’t like being annoying, but i find it very hard to keep quiet. which is weird because it’s easy for me to be quiet at all other times of the day. except when i’m playing sports.

here’s hoping that when you add all of those ingredients together, i’m like that JP licks cake. irresistible, surprisingly so.

now you know all these fun, random, potentially boring facts about me, which means it’s your turn to tell me something about yourself, so i can get to know YOU and YOU and YOU, my dear readers.

travel

released into the wild

abby mumford

i often think, feel, and act younger than my current age, but i (unintentionally) found a way of combating that: return to the college campus you attended as an undergrad. the town that saw you grow from 18-22. the ‘burg that bubbled around you, protected you, secluded you, enhanced you, taught you, fought you, encouraged you.

6 of us decided to have an impromptu reunion in harrisonburg. i use the term impromptu loosely because nothing really is spontaneous when you’re trying to plan a trip with 6 people who have full time jobs and hectic lives and responsibilities. why go back to the ‘burg? yes, we may have spent more time out of college than in it. and we may be closer to 30 than 20. and we may not be carded anymore. and we may have our own healthcare. and we may pay all of our own bills. but we really aren’t that old, are we? we can still reclaim our youth, can’t we?

reality check. (transcribed for full effect).

BOY: birthday party. our apartment. saturday night.
JILL: my sister and her friends will be in town. we may swing by. we may not.
BOY: sister? friends? girls? they can come.
JILL hesitates, says: well, it’s my older sister and some of her friends.
BOY: how old?
JILL: they’re 28 and 29.
BOY: COUGARS!

we embraced this new label. we declared it the weekend of cougars. we knew that even if we are old by college standards, we still could and would relive our glory days. we stayed at an off campus apartment. we visited all of the usual hot spots. we hit up some new restaurants. we showed 2 forms of id everywhere. we played pong. we won. we ate at the new dining hall. we toured campus. we thought about how lucky we were to go here. we ate. we pointed out new buildings. we took pictures of the old. we reminisced. we laughed. we ate. we told tour groups to pick this school. we bought new paraphernalia. we drank. we shivered and froze. (WTC, virigina. it’s march. i expect sunshine and daisies.) we marveled at the offerings. we talked about the changes the campus, and ourselves, have gone through. we ate. we were overwhelmed. we went to happy hour. we relaxed. we ate. we saw ghosts of our former selves. we waved. we cheers’d to 11 years of friendship. we filed away new memories.

and in the middle of all the “do you remember when”s, we accepted our transformation from duke dogs to cougars.