What have I become?

I’ve never been so organized in my life.  Not only have I put together a binder (the 3-hole punch I stole from work has finally come in handy) with my personal and auto insurance documents, but I am about to call my credit card companies to let them know I’ll be traveling.  I stood in line today at the BMV for my license plates, I called to update my magazine subscriptions (early Christmas present for my sister Zoe), and I already figured out the documents I need for the Mexico border.

This forward-thinking Samantha is strange.  And I’ve had moments of semi-panic that I’m OVERpreparing, that I’m not letting everything run its course and I’m setting expectations of a smooth trip.  If everything gets stolen, I tell myself, then I’ll be pissed for wasting time making everything so organized and accessible for the thieves.  But then I remember that not only am I going on a trip, I’m MOVING from one country to another.  And, I’m taking a car.  Paperwork is necessary.  And my obsessive copying of insurance docs, car title and registration, and passport is a necessary preparation to get through the many borders and checkpoints.  This is me being mature, I suppose.

I’ve come a long way from my first solo trip.  If it wasn’t for Helen, a woman I met in Buenos Aires who became my travel companion for three weeks, I would have been scammed, cheated, and/or lost many times in Argentina.  Helen was the one who taught me what questions to ask when booking a white-water rafting trip and how to plan ahead so I’m not stuck in a miserable border town for a week without a bus ticket.  Her little neuroses (waking up at 3 am to search frantically for her passport, for example) balanced out my compulsively carefree behavior until we became a perfect traveling team.  And eventually I learned how to get from place to place without too many mishaps.  Now here I am, hole-punching my insurance documents.

My mom and I are heading out next Tuesday (after voting, of course).  We’re spending a couple days in Houston with my uncle, a couple in San Antonio visiting old friends, and then the last two days in Corpus Christi kiteboarding.  Then, on to Monterrey to meet up with Flaco and put Mom on a plane back home.  I’ll be happy to leave this November weather in Cleveland (snow one day, 60-degrees the next), and I’m ready to start moving again!

Fortune cookie, from last Saturday’s Chinese dinner with the First Watch crew:

A four-wheeled adventure will soon bring you happiness.

[I have different tires on the Pathfinder, for those who noticed the pimp wheels.  Flaco called me, worried: "We can't drive down with those!  They're meant for those teenagers who cruise around the park every night to show off!"]

Now on to step 3…

I bought the adventure-mobile! Wednesday I’ll drive to Monroeville, PA, to pick up my new ‘96 Nissan Pathfinder. It has 153,000 miles and was completely overhauled by its mechanic owner. New clutch, tires, brakes, timing belt, stereo system, etc. And, according to me and my mom, it’s a (semi-)beautiful Mediterranean Green. Our green machine.

Next step: buying a plane ticket for Flaco from Costa Rica to Monterrey, Mexico. I’m so psyched to see him. And, he just gave me the great news that he’s meeting up with a friend of his from South Carolina who just did the drive that we’re about to do. This kind guy is handing over all of his maps and giving Flaco advice about the best route to take. Just further support to my belief that as long as you’re open and aware and focused on a goal, the right people will come along to help out the process.

On a side note, I got a new tattoo on Thursday. I’ve been thinking and rethinking about it for over two years, and it’s just as I imagined. Cindy from Tattoo Faction in North Olmsted, Ohio, designed a tree that starts on my right upper thigh and crosses over onto my lower back. A solid, grounded tree that is blowing in the wind. Movement with roots.

I’ll end with my new favorite quote, courtesy of André Gide (via the gorgeous Carey Nava, who sent along with the quote a Ganesh statue to stick to my dashboard… to help me break down boundaries):

Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.