What Airline Standby Is Really Like

Tales From A Pilot’s Wife Pilot’s wife; pilot’s life. Or something like that. We travel a lot, and everyone always thinks that we both travel for free since my husband is a commercial airline pilot. “Oh, I see you went to Amsterdam in December and Indonesia in February. Must be so nice to pay nothing. I’d travel more if I had that opportunity.”  Would you travel more, though, if you knew what airline standby entails?  It’s also rarely free.  (P.S. If you do want to work toward free travel and flights, try this fantastic travel course. There are step-by-step modules with proven success.) via GIPHY Let me preface by saying that we don’t risk flying standby for international flights since my husband does not work for an international airline.  We always pay full price for those seats, especially since we don’t have the time to waste and we’d still have to…

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Living with Ulcerative Colitis: 10 Tips For Traveling

Ulcerative Colitis (UC) is a big part of my life. Ten years ago, as I was packing up my apartment to leave for Indonesia, circumstances started to get a bit messy.  I began seeing the signs and symptoms of colitis, and scopes revealed minor inflammation in the left side of my colon.  I managed to somewhat successfully live abroad for the year, regardless. Fighting corrupt customs for maintenance medication and accidentally ingesting a parasite made me appreciate my time abroad even more. I worried that I would never again have the opportunity to travel, especially after starting to see more aggressive UC symptoms. Living with Ulcerative Colitis is truly life changing, but chronic illness does not have to be life ending. My Diagnosis  I barely managed my symptoms, but the blood and gore never cleared up during the first 8.5 years of my diagnosis.  Acclimated to this way of life,…

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Ommm…Beeeeer…Ommm: Central Florida Beer Yoga

I wish that I could constantly sit on a plane en route to countries filled with sidewalk cafes.  I dream of getting lost down small alleyways and finding historic treasures.  Sometimes, though, I find a little local piece of heaven with these 4 words: Central Florida beer yoga. Yoga, Hops, & All The Feels: Central Florida Beer Yoga I have been a yogi since college.  P.S. Guys, I’m old so that means I’ve been doing yoga for 17 years.  Every Saturday is sheer yoga bliss. Seeking inner peace and a solid workout, I attend one of the most atmospheric breweries—dim white lights with a gorgeous twisting tree logo–for morning yoga. As I unroll my Manduka on the concrete floor, a gorgeous industrial-beamed ceiling greets me. Like a Lightroom filter, silver and muted tones of blues and oranges ensconce my mat and soothe my yoga soul.  My love of beer may…

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Florida Humidity VS My Hair, Round 1: Curly hair care products to live by

Battle Of The Tresses & Exploding Hairdyers: The one thing that I have learned in the sunshine state is to put down the hairdryer.  …Unless it’s that one month where the temperature actually stays in the 60’s or I need to look like I actually tried to be presentable; i.e. My mom is in town, I’m taking my psychotic cat to the already judgmental vet, or I’m hoping Pep Boys will give me a free oil change.  Curly hair care products are a Florida girl’s best friend, and for me, here’s why: Giving up my straightening tools isn’t a bad idea given my history with exploding hairdryers.  …OK, anddddd possibly also igniting them and the walls that they are attached to through poor international adaptor usage.  Don’t judge this world traveler who just can’t resist a strong American blowdryer.  Sally’s pretty much features my mug on a wanted sign out…

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The Making Of A Book Review Blog

Why did I create a book review blog?  And then decide to smush in traveling?  Find out below: My Books Bring All The…Lizards To The Yard Every night after a day full of teaching high schoolers English and early AM wakeups from the azan and roti roti vendor—along with horns, backfiring motorbikes, and the never ending village yet city-like sounds in my Indonesian home—I would land on my couch with a good book. These books came from care packages and overpriced expat stores.  Plus, I had a few that made the cut on the weight-restricting journey from America. Cicaks fell from the ceiling onto my pages as I melted in the oppressively humid air.  Daily thunder earthquaked my stucco walls.  I would read throughout the night, usually by headlamp, as my power and water just happened to peter out between 9 and 10 pm. I only stopped in between paragraphs to…

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