Tag: Travel

Categories
Chronic Disease Medical Travel

Day 437 and A Mood

I’ve been struggling with allergies ever since I arrived in Frankfurt last week. The stress of travel and the constant itching affect my mood more than I’d like.

It’s a weird situation if I’m honest as I’m so happy to be traveling and on my own after two years or being in the same place and with the same person. I love my husband and I love my home but I’m sure everyone can relate at the end of the pandemic for the need to be alone.

My mood has largely been buoyant except for the constant low level misery that is these damn allergies. My eyes water. The skin around them is red and raw. My skin keeps finding new intermittent patterns to express hives and eczema. And I’ve built up quite a tolerance to Benadryl.

The allergies stress me out and then my spinal pain worsens and then suddenly I’ll find myself in just a miserable sad mood. I’m grateful I can write it all down so I can get the mood out. I just want to be comfortable in my own skin and smiling again.

Categories
Politics Travel

Day 435 and Coming to America

I’ve had occasion to try to get an appointment at the consulate in Frankfurt. I’m helping someone with a visa situation. And holy fucking shit I had no idea how how hard it was to get a hold of someone, literally anyone, at the state department. Now I grant maybe they are a little busy at the moment but I’ve spent over 10 hours over the past 24 trying to get ahold of a person.

First I tried calling the consulate. I got lost in the phone tree several times. After finally learning the proper branches (it’s four steps in) I was able to get to an operator line. It rang. And rang. And rang. And rang. I let it ring for ten minutes. Nothing.

I decided to try another tactic. I went back into the phone tree to see if there was another number. I kept trying permutations. I hit dead end after dead end. Finally I got lucky. They provided a phone number. I took it down. I asked someone else to listen to it to be sure I hadn’t misheard. Our numbers matched. I called. “Your call cannot be completed as dialed.” Ok weird. Maybe let’s try with another country code. Nothing. If anyone can figure out what 032221093243 is supposed to be I’d very very grateful.

So the phone was a dead end. I began emailing. I was able to find a basic visa email for the consulate. The auto response said it was deleted.

In the meantime I had emailed constituent services at my Congressman’s office. I live in Colorado’s Second Congressional District so I am represented by Joe Neguse. They asked for proof of my address and my social security number. I had no idea if the website was secure but fuck it I hit submit. I got a response from a constituent services person. She said she would reach out to the consulate. Amazing! I felt like I was on a path to victory.

Ok….so now what? I emailed the consul again with a different format on a tip from an internet friend. This auto response had a link to a google sheet explaining how to write an email with the proper code to get a response! I sent in an email with the correct formatting to prevent automatic deletion. This generated an automated response. But that email had a a link to a live chat! Fuck yes! I opened the live chat. A bot responded. I answered a series of questions. The bot decided it was time to send me to a live operator. Please hold for a live operator.

I waited. And I waited. And I waited. After 48 minutes in the live chat box a human arrived. Fuck yes! I explained the situation. He said he would check on appointments. Please hold. I waited for another ten minutes. There were no appointments at all. He explained that this meant there were no available appointments. That sadly 999 days till the next appointment meant that there were no appointments. There was nothing he could do.

The next day my congressional support person emailed back saying she had heard from the consulate. So clearly constituent services works great! Alas the news from the consulate was bad. They confirmed what the live chat had said. There was no appointments to be had. They included the same live chat link. The best advice they had was to keep checking back for appointments but it was unlikely to open up. We could check other cities but most of them also listed no available appointments. And they issued a warning. You cannot reschedule too often as after more than two changes to the system you are forced into a six month waiting period before you are allow to try again.

So that’s the end of my Kafkaesque twenty four hours. With no resolution in sight. If any of my friends have friend at the state department that can figure out how to schedule an appointment for visa services at the consulate in Frankfurt (though we will happily travel to any other German city too) hit me up. Until then I think I’ll be lobbying Congress for a bigger budget for our consular services. Maybe even try my hand at immigration reform.

Categories
Internet Culture Media

Day 431 and 9 Lonely Hours

I was excited for the time difference working in Frankfurt. It’s GMT + 1 which makes it six hours ahead of New York and a whooping nine hours ahead of San Francisco. I had this idea that I would enjoy getting in a full day before any of my American collaborators. Imagine the productivity gains!

But I’ve actually found it lonely. The silence of my social media has felt anything but, well, social. I adjusted immediately to the time difference without any jet lag. I woke up at 7am with the sun on my first day. And then I realized my California compatriots wouldn’t be awake till 4pm my time. Shit.

It’s not as if I have no one to talk to during these hours. I have founders in Europe and collaborators that are in these central time zones. But Twitter and my media news diet is strangely quiet in the early hours. It’s almost eerie. There is something disquieting about waking up before the news roundups hit my inbox. Like the world isn’t awake yet. Except obviously in Europe everything has stashed already.

I had no idea just how much my information environment depended on American filtering. It’s not that I was unaware that I was consuming a heavy diet of American media, but most of my news diet enters my feed through the East Coast media centers and is propagated through the lens of Silicon Valley. The Twitter friends I spent the most time with were clearly mostly American.

This is clearly an opportunity for me to branch out my information diet and my social circle. I’m grateful for the reminder. But I can’t help being a little sad that for a month I’ll be so offset from what I know and love. But it’s also exciting.

Categories
Travel

Day 426 and Missing Glamor

I flew to Europe today. Or rather last night. I had a business class flight to Munich, which in a past life would have been the height of luxury. Instead I found myself in the morass of Covid protocol lounges, individually wrapped dinner services and hygiene theater.

Because I was flying out of Denver I ended up a little bit high, (you can’t take it with you) wandering terminals looking for a business class lounge. When I did find one, it was all food service cold cuts and broccoli cheddar soup. The lounge was packed to the gills and had a mask mandate but did that ridiculous hygiene theater where you didn’t mask when eating. So everyone was eating but occasionally someone would yell at you if it was to clear you were between sips or nibbles. Eventually I gave up on the United Lounge as I’m just not a cold cure kinds gal and satisfied my munchies with some McDonalds fries.

Once I made it onto my flight I learned that under no circumstances was I allowed to take off my mask for even a moment to apply face creams. I’d been planning to apply my nightly beauty regimen on the plane before dozing off but was told it simply wasn’t allowed. The woman next to me was deep into her second Chardonnay but god forbid I get my resveretrol topically from Claudelie. I eventually snuck off to the bathroom for my nightly ablutions.

I was however allowed to take off my mask for my Crab Salad and champagne. Which was the last possible indication that flying used to be a luxurious experience. After dinner I learned we were expected to sleep in our KN95 masks. And to think I’d hoped I’d be wearing a beauty mask. Eventually I found myself a comfortable position to lie down in during a fitted N95. But I didn’t take any chances. I took two ambien to sleep through whatever bit of Covid protocol wanted me next.

Categories
Medical Preparedness Travel

Day 419 and Back to Normal

One of my friends texted to say “I’m shocked the hygiene theater at EthDenver failed as half my team has Covid-19!” Which is of course sarcasm. But we are all back in action. Consequences be damned! I’ve booked conferences through June. A venture fund that backs my husband just booked their CEO summit for an in person gathering. I have finally started eating at restaurants indoors again.

But for all this ridiculous talk of getting back to normal it’s just a lull. I’m happy to be out there as I’m confident in my immunity and my own risk tolerance based on having had an infection and being up to date vaccines. But it might not remain that way. And for plenty of people their risk calculus can’t be as liberal as mine. We’ve left behind the immune compromised. America doesn’t give a fuck about the disabled.

I hadn’t really meant this as a Covid post but rather it’s an introduction to this striving for normalcy. The pandemic is wrapping up and we can “Get Back to Normal” is more slogan than reality. If only because there is no going back. We’ve got the annoyance of all the second and third order effects of the pandemic to deal with now. And that is going to suck more than the pandemic

Faith in institutions is shaken and probably damaged for an entire generation. Health and medicine will make big strides as we finally address long virus issues. Maybe more chronically ill folks get better care. But for most people their trust in science is shaken. Not sure if the good will outweigh the bad yet.

We’ve also normalized a wide swath of government interventions we’d previously never tolerated. But it’s for our own good! Sure but who decides on the good going forward? What might else it get used for? And more people than I’d expected cheered on this kind of meddling in our daily lives. All for the greater good obviously. But I’m worried what happens when fascists get to decide on what is a greater good. And since we’ve normalized intervention it will be harder to push back.

I really do believe things are becoming more chaotic. We’ve accelerated a whole swath of changes that are going to shift our world. Some of it may be in good ways. I certainly plan to make a lot of money investing in the belief that we will adapt swiftly and positively. And either I’m right and we survive and so I make a lot of money. Or I’m wrong and it probably doesn’t matter. We’ve got to leap into the unknown to find out. But back to normal? Sorry buddy but we live in interesting times.

Categories
Travel

Day 418 and Come Down

A colleague of mine and I were texting after he had come off of a flight. He was tired. More tired than he remembered being after airplane travel in the past. We discussed how the muscle memory of travel seemed to have gotten lost in the pandemic. The stamina regular travelers build up over time had gone.

I’m feeling that today. While I didn’t fly anywhere, I was out of my home staying in a hotel and attending a busy professional event. At the time it felt fun and energizing. Even yesterday I was still enjoying a bit of the high from the social interaction. But today I’m exhausted. I’m pooped. I’m plum tuckered out. Stick a fork in me. I’m done.

This begs the question of whether we will regain our travel muscles again soon. I’ve already got four trips lined up between now and June. I’m going to Europe, then Bitcoin Miami, then Montana, then Austin for Consensus. That is almost as much as my pre-pandemic levels. I’ll be curious if I find it progressively less tiring. Or if in fact being tired is a good thing as it lets us know when we’ve overdone it. Either way I’m going to bed early.

Categories
Chronicle

Day 416 and Packing

I’m going to Europe for the month of March. After two years of isolation with my husband it felt like it was time to be on my own for a little bit. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. And yes the trip will involve work so founders in Germany and France feel free to reach out.

Of course, a long trip means careful packing. I’m not traditionally been a fan of packing. In fact, packing is my most common recurring nightmare.

Packing brings back all my childhood memories of never feeling stable. Boxes and suitcases take me back. A common theme in my recurring nightmare is trying to find all the basics I will need for some trip. I’ll be searching for underwear or prescription medication. As the dream unfolds I’ll find a key item only to have it disappear. There is always a countdown.

Naturally I’m a bit concerned packing for a month long trip to another continent after literally years of not packing. But I’m letting some of of the fear go. Jo

I was at my first work conference since the pandemic this week. I had to pack up medication and supplements. Makeup and toiletries for casual and more formal events needed to be gathered and stowed. I needed to account for professional dressing along with a snowstorm and a 60 degree day. I brought a parka and boots along with heels and proper lingerie. It was not an easy packing job.

And to my surprise everything worked. I brought the right mix of attire. I only forgot a few medications that weren’t crucial. I looked perfectly fine and was able to be as casual or as polished as the circumstances required. And blessedly it mostly all fit into my trusty Muji suitcase.

While I feel out of practice, a dry run before I need to really have my act together for a big international trip went great. Maybe I’m actually ready to get back on the road.

Categories
Preparedness

Day 387 and Travel Routines

I hadn’t done any travel since the pandemic hit until last week. I’ve probably been in a comfortable at home routine for years (if you don’t count the cross country moves). But last week I went to Montana to do some house hunting. And I could tell I was out of practice traveling.

I used to be on the road pretty frequently. So frequently I started a travel cosmetics company. I was really dedicated to fixing the annoyances of being on the road with travel routines. They can be really simple routines. Always unpack immediately. Get yourself settled in with all your cords and charging stations. Bring your workout clothes. Have nutrition plans and exercise routines that can be adapted for airplane food and hotel rooms. Bring a water bottle. Pack supplements in daily baggies. Learn to fast during your flights.

I could go on and on about the routines that helped me prevent the recovery most travel requires. If you are gone for a week and don’t maintain your routines then you lose another week transitioning back.

I sadly didn’t bring enough of my routines with me to Montana. I underestimated how tired I’d be so I didn’t keep up with my workouts and physical therapy (I’m recovering from an injury which compounded the issue). I didn’t have a nutrition plan so I ended up eating whatever was readily available.

It wasn’t all bad to be clear. I remembered my supplements and vitamins. I went to sleep on a consistent schedule. Even if that meant being awake when it was pitch black outside. Montana is far enough north it doesn’t get light out till 8am.

But I think I could have done a better job not letting the excitement and change of environment ramp up my nervous system. One of the best parts of a routine is making sure you’ve maintained some amount of detachment so you aren’t always at the mercy of what is providing stimulus to your system. Remaining in a parasympathetic state can be a challenge in a new environment as everything reads as novelty to our nervous system.

Even though I’ve been back for 4-5 days I feel like I’m just finally settling back into a comfortable rhythm. It makes me realize just how out of practice I am with travel. What was once a routine event is now again something that requires time and effort. Journeys will once again be out of time and place. Our lives back home will be different than when we are in the road. Maybe that’s a good thing. But it’s not a reality is considered in decades. It makes me feel as if life is measurable worse.

Categories
Reading

Day 273 and The Newsstand

I used to travel a lot. It seems like another life, but before the pandemic airports were my most important liminal space. Even as a child this was true as my father loved taking us on trips. That emotional weight meant the airport have always had significance to me. This persistent exposure to airports lead to me to developing certain affinities and aversions in my routines around travel. But the one that I liked the most was buying something at the newsstand.

There was a period as a teenager where I thought carrying both the The Economist and Rolling Stone (neither of which I read anymore) was just the height of intellectual signaling. And no place was more crucial to signal than inside an airport. I could meet someone in passing that would change my life and they needed to see immediately that I was both smart and cultured. Yes it’s embarrassing now.

But this signaling was part of a wider ritual I felt was important to ground myself. Even if I felt the unsteadiness of traveling, I could bring routine and ritual into it. I knew no matter how much I anxiety or uncertainty I felt around a given trip I could always treat myself to buying something to read from the airport newsstand.

Generally I would pick up some kind of periodical. I’d leave myself time to browse the newsstands for at least ten minutes so I could adequately cover all the weird genres. Because I grew up in a small town and not a proper city, the only newsstand I ever encountered was at the airport. There was simply no place that held as many magazines covering as many topics.

And while I had the Internet very early in my life, the actual transition away from physical publishing wasn’t as far along. It’s not that I loved magazines so much as it was the only place I could find writing that wasn’t a novel was in newsstand. Now of course I read blogs, email newsletters, forums, Subreddits and my beloved Twitter. But the memories I have of finding new worlds came from newsstands. And while I may have literally been going someplace new, it was never quite as horizon broadening as picking out what I was going to read.

Categories
Emotional Work

Day 228 and Recurring Nightmares

Chances are you have some kind of recurring nightmare that your subconscious tosses up for processing regularly. Some blend of math tests or being naked at a big meeting seems pretty popular. I used to regularly have a dream where I was told I wouldn’t graduate from university as I had forgotten to take some core requirement. But by far the most consistent and upsetting nightmare I have is packing.

I moved a lot as a child. A fun (sad) fact about me is I changed schools every two years for my entire tenure as a student. These moves were generally coupled with moving homes while some just were just me moving by myself. I did first and second grade in Orange County in California, 3rd and 4th in Sacramento, 5th and 6th in Niwot Colorado, 7th grade I was homeschooled (somewhere in there my parents got divorced so my mom and I moved out), 8th was a prep school outside of Boulder, 9th grade was boarding school in Connecticut, 10th was half at prep school and half in France, 11th grade I dropped out and took classes in Manhattan, then for 12th I was back to Colorado and remote classes and prep school. The first and only time I had a consistent schooling experience was at University of Chicago. I did it in three and a half years to save money.

Just writing it out makes me anxious and sad. I wish I could condense it for purposes of the narrative. It feels too long reading it over. It wasn’t just moving schools and houses. It’s actually worse than I’m letting on. My father loves travel. I was put on an airplane at six weeks old for a flight to Hawaii. Many of my childhood memories are of airplanes and cruise ships and motor homes. You name a form of traveling and we did it. We were always going somewhere. I fucking hated it.

Now as an an adult I loathe packing. It brings back all my childhood memories of never feeling stable. Boxes and suitcases take me back. And I don’t just dislike it, I loathe it so much I dedicated several years of my life to making it more convenient to carry your cosmetics with you. I called the line Stowaway. It was all travel sized. I hate packing so much I went to years of trouble to make one core routine easier to take with you. I wanted one thing about travel to be less scary. Less overwhelming. One less thing you leave behind. Childhood trauma sticks.

Maybe only people who love travel should try to improve the experience. Working from a place of childhood trauma is often the road to riches. I guess it worked out fine for me. But I don’t have the fondness for travel that many millennials of my generation have. I only have nightmares. Maybe if I had realized that before I started it would have gone better.

A common theme in my recurring nightmare is trying to find all the basics I will need for some trip. I’ll be searching for underwear or prescription medication. As the dream unfolds I’ll find a key item only to have it disappear. There is always a countdown. Some reminder that a flight is taking off soon. But it’s usually much more dramatic than that. It’s often some kind of unspoken crisis. I won’t remember it when I wake up. Maybe it’s apocalyptic. But it’s rarely a go bag or a bug out situation in my nightmares. It’s just a suitcase or a box or a bag never being filled up.

I never leave on the trip. The dream never lets me finish packing. I guess my unconscious hasn’t figured out how to proceed that it wasn’t the packing that scared me, it was leaving behind the life that I thought was safe. Maybe I’ll get there eventually. I don’t want to be stuck in a nightmare, packing up my life, being afraid of being dragged someplace I don’t want to go.