This year was a good one for my passport, which got a lot more action than I did and on multiple continents at that. I wish I could just fly around taking pictures and stuffing myself in between shots, but I get the sense that no one wants to pay me to do that? If they did, though, the following is a taste of the unfettered brilliance I would bring, literally and metaphorically, to the table.
I travel alone a lot and am just generally a hermit, so whenever I deign to crawl out of my cave I make sure I take lots of pictures of interesting walls, floors, roofs, maybe some food—a table for me and my phone is the new table for two, you know? LOL #loneliness.
Traveling solo has its ups and downs, and by the end of my time in Italy I was kind of wishing I had a companion, preferably someone else with a really irregular poop schedule so maybe our cycles could sync up. Right? And can we talk about how I missed the Alamuddin-Clooney wedding in Venice by like, three days? I mean, thanks a lot, God. I guess I'll just have to remember Venice as that place on water where I almost saw George Clooney get married, and how catchy is that?
Speaking of bowel movements and water, the food in Colombia man, wtf. Not exactly a diamond in anyone's culinary crown, Cartagena was nonetheless a lot of fun to trek around, at least for the first three days. Plus, thanks to whoring myself out as press, I got to stay at Hotel Santa Clara, where Lauren Santo Domingo had her rehearsal dinner back in '08. Vogue devoted ten pages to the wedding and showed Bonnie Morrison, Barbara Bush and Amanda Brooks standing in the hotel's breezeways (not to mention Ivanka Trump by the pool, bitch), which basically validates the entire trip and all of my life choices leading up to it.
And then there was Nice, France. That was cute. Chanel flew us out there to make a video of their rose harvesting process and when we came back Julianne Moore, Jason DeRulo and Adriana Lima were on our flight, in the same cabin as us. And then our heads exploded and I couldn't.
So this is all to say that traveling is totally worth it, as long as you see a celeb or ostensibly share the last dying wisps of stale air once breathed in by one, or at least someone who's like, really hot and rich. Otherwise, IDK why you even left your house and I definitely cannot fxck with why you brought your phone out like somebody cares.
JK! Traveling is great. Here is where I link you to all of my other travel posts and tell you to follow me on Instagram.
I travel alone a lot and am just generally a hermit, so whenever I deign to crawl out of my cave I make sure I take lots of pictures of interesting walls, floors, roofs, maybe some food—a table for me and my phone is the new table for two, you know? LOL #loneliness.
Traveling solo has its ups and downs, and by the end of my time in Italy I was kind of wishing I had a companion, preferably someone else with a really irregular poop schedule so maybe our cycles could sync up. Right? And can we talk about how I missed the Alamuddin-Clooney wedding in Venice by like, three days? I mean, thanks a lot, God. I guess I'll just have to remember Venice as that place on water where I almost saw George Clooney get married, and how catchy is that?
Speaking of bowel movements and water, the food in Colombia man, wtf. Not exactly a diamond in anyone's culinary crown, Cartagena was nonetheless a lot of fun to trek around, at least for the first three days. Plus, thanks to whoring myself out as press, I got to stay at Hotel Santa Clara, where Lauren Santo Domingo had her rehearsal dinner back in '08. Vogue devoted ten pages to the wedding and showed Bonnie Morrison, Barbara Bush and Amanda Brooks standing in the hotel's breezeways (not to mention Ivanka Trump by the pool, bitch), which basically validates the entire trip and all of my life choices leading up to it.
And then there was Nice, France. That was cute. Chanel flew us out there to make a video of their rose harvesting process and when we came back Julianne Moore, Jason DeRulo and Adriana Lima were on our flight, in the same cabin as us. And then our heads exploded and I couldn't.
So this is all to say that traveling is totally worth it, as long as you see a celeb or ostensibly share the last dying wisps of stale air once breathed in by one, or at least someone who's like, really hot and rich. Otherwise, IDK why you even left your house and I definitely cannot fxck with why you brought your phone out like somebody cares.
JK! Traveling is great. Here is where I link you to all of my other travel posts and tell you to follow me on Instagram.
0 comments:
Post a Comment