Yellow, orange, magenta, turquoise, lavender underwear parading around baggage claim. And my mother yelling "Sydney! Those are yours!"

My luggage didn't make the Heathrow to Paris connection. Three days waiting, an €800 Paris wardrobe assembled, and I still had a wonderful trip.

Airplane drinks with no lids. Baggage claim that works like it's 1987. All luggage being black. First class boarding first. A running list of travel absurdities.

I took a career test at 21. It gave me two options. I picked the practical one. You won't believe my full circle moment 26 years later.

I am not a natural salesperson. I don't send urgency emails with countdown timers. What I am is someone who notices things, creates things, thinks obsessively about details.

There are two versions of me. Current me. And Trip me. The version with something on the calendar. She's a bit lighter. More easily excited. More present.

The best summers never really leave us. 30 years later and they're still showing up. Summer mornings, summer nights, and why travel feels like someone handed me another summer.

I need a good nudge to get out of town, just like everyone else — which is ridiculous, considering I'm usually the one telling YOU to book the trip.