I'm sitting in a cafe in Saigon's fifth district, scanning blank stares and noticing the outlandish Christmas decorations all around. Piqued by the irony and giggling because "Christmas" is spelled wrong almost everywhere. It's the thought that counts, I suppose. The level of noise is unbearable but the coffee with rum sure helps.
How the hell did I get here?
A series of wrong turns, right turns, middle fingers, and doing the opposite of what people expected, I guess. I'm not Vietnamese, if you were wondering. I'm a 32 year old serial expat from Phoenix, Arizona of all places. Thrice engaged, once married, once divorced, and a sucker for second chances. A walking contradiction, perhaps: travel-junkie, fantasy geek, medieval history nerd, classical pianist, and death metal enthusiast.
Always kind of a dreamer and never one to act my age, I'm on a quest to find the holy grail or the ring of power, or something equally as cool. I love dogs and horses, red wine and maps. I've lived all over the United States and been to at least 30 countries. I'm scared to death of failure and writing this. And unfortunately, I'm out of rum coffee now.
I look forward to getting to know all kinds of interesting people here and expanding my horizons in a way I've never done before. This new year seems like a good enough reason as any.