Some are about the euphoria of falling of love, some are about the depths of heartbreak, but most are feelings that, I’m willing to bet, we’ve felt at one time or another.
In Japan, I am the exotic one.
You notice that steam curling over a hot bowl of food or cup of coffee never looks more enticing than directly after you come home from a walk and look like the vintage Campbell’s Soup snowman.
When you’ve been away, your timeline gets fuzzy. You can’t remember if the neighbors next to your grandparents cut down the tree in their front yard two years ago or ten years ago.
See, airports are my happy place. I’m in love with them. I’m the woman who shows up at least three hours before her flight — international or domestic, it doesn’t matter — just to spend a bit of extra time in the terminal.
Your surroundings shouldn’t change your habits.
One of my favorite quotes about traveling is “I haven’t been everywhere, but it’s on my list.”
If home is a place that calls to us, what happens when we have multiple homes, then?
Google “untranslatable words” and you’ll be greeted with dozens of lists of the “top” foreign words that just can’t be translated into English (or any other tongue, for that matter, if English isn’t your first language).
Make your place of residence look like a home, not a lair. Milk crates and a tattered poster of a bikini-clad Playboy model do not a home make. Get thee to Ikea.