I’m not one to blog. I made this blog site when I started traveling a few years ago so that I could document my time on the road. But I never got to it. Now, I feel an overwhelming need to speak my mind and I’m not sure how to do that or who to do it to. I’m new to this. I’m new to this lifestyle. I’ve been with the love of my life for almost 2 years now. I came out to my family shortly after my brother did the same. He inspired me to accept myself, and to not fear the changes that would undoubtably come from doing so. I learned to not be afraid of what people thought of me. I’m different, yes, but I am the same. I was born to this world just like the rest of the humans who were born to this same Earth. I am different, but I am the same. And so are you. So, I slowly began to accept myself. I convinced myself that it didn’t matter what people thought. It didn’t matter that there were people out there that thought I should be condemned to death because of the lifestyle I live, because of the feelings I feel. It didn’t matter. But now it does. It does matter to me what you think. It does matter to me that you think I don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you because of the person I love. It matters to me that I am not seen just as everyone else is seen. It matters to me, and it should.

I fell in love. I moved past the fear, disgust, and loathing I felt for those who were uneducated enough to hate, and discriminate people like me. Because I know that I am a good person. I take pride in my relationships with friends and family. I know I have a good personality. I love how much people admire and respect me. When I moved to a town in upstate New York, I started to feel all those feelings of fear again. Yes, I am a good person. Yes, they will like me, and yes, I will make friends. But will they accept me? Will they understand my life and what I go through on a daily basis? Will they use discriminatory words like “faggot” and “homo” in normal sentences and not think twice about it? Do I turn a blind eye to that? Do I pretend it doesn’t bother me because I am such an easygoing person? I don’t want people to think I’m sensitive, I want them to know I’m tough. I want them to know I don’t take shit from anyone, and I want them to think I can handle criticism and that I understand other people’s points of views, even if I don’t agree with them. But guess what, that has changed. I don’t accept your point of view if your point of view is that I am not a normal person. I do not accept your opinion if your opinion is that I’m acceptable as a lesbian because I’m down to earth, but my community is not acceptable because you don’t know them personally. You accept me and you love me for who I am, but are you enough of a man or woman to accept those who are similar to me? Are you man enough to accept my brother being engaged to a man? Are you man enough to see them kiss each other just like I kiss my girlfriend? Are you man enough to accept that they have the same kind of love, if not stronger, than a man and a woman share? Because I’m sick of pretending I don’t care. I’m sick of pretending I’m not a part of the LGBT community. I’ve always considered myself lucky. Like I was different than other gay people because it seemed like I could get the acceptance of anyone. It seemed easier because I’m an average girl, with average looks and a beautiful girlfriend. I felt lucky. I felt lucky to not have to face day to day discrimination from loved ones and complete strangers. I don’t feel lucky anymore. I don’t feel safe anymore. And I’m sick of pretending I do.

After hearing about the Orlando shooting, my mind changed. My life changed, just like it did for millions of other people. We’re sick of it. We’re sick of being different. You’re different, not us. You’re unaccepting and cold-hearted, and narrow-minded. Before, I felt the thankful for people accepting me for being gay. I felt like they deserved to be congratulated for understanding my lifestyle. But it’s not enough anymore. It’s not enough to just accept me and my girlfriend, and not anyone else. It’s not enough for you to not look twice when I kiss her, but for you to look three times when a man kisses his husband. It’s not enough anymore. I want my entire community to to be accepted. I want people to see what they’ve done to us. You don’t see it through me. You see it through unspeakable acts like the Pulse shooting. You don’t see it until its literally right in front of you, on every news channel. You don’t see it until its talked about by everyone for the week following the event. You don’t see it until then, and then you forget. Please stop forgetting. It makes me sick to know I only started feeling so passionate about this only once something so horrific had been done. If you love me, and if I’m a good friend and a good person, then do it for me. Pay attention to how you speak and the slurs you make. Pay attention to how you look at others and how you perceive them. If you don’t agree, then don’t. Whatever. But stop acting like thats okay. Its not okay. You’re not okay if you cannot accept reality. You’re not okay. Pay attention to that because someone has to.

I’m supposed to say that he didn’t win. When the Boston Marathon got attacked, we said “you didn’t beat us, Boston Strong.” You don’t win when you act on your beliefs by massacaring dozens of people. We raised our flags, we bought t-shirts, and we stuck together as a city. Whether we were old, young, gay, or straight, we stuck together. But this time, I feel like he has won. He beat me. He scared me. He made me feel different and unaccepted. He took away my security, and made me feel uncomfortable. I fear for my brother and his fiancé. I fear that we’ll be targeted one day too. I feel more than ever, a part of the LGBT community. I feel connected to the victims and to their families and friends. I did not choose this. I did not want to feel different, and hated, and afraid. I did not choose to live my life like this. My life chose this. Would you want to be stared at every time you peck your significant other on the street while holding hands. Would you want to be questioned three times every single time you tell someone who you’re in a relationship with? Would you want to fear going in public because someone might attack you? Would you want to base your life around living in certain places because some places just aren’t safe for you? Would you want to lose the acceptance of millions of people around the world who don’t understand? Would you want to question your sanity when people tell you that its in your head and that you can be saved? Would you want to be banned from basic human rights? Would you want to have to fight for the right to marry the person you love? Would you want to have to prove to people that you can be a good parent because they think its impossible for you to be? No. You wouldn’t want that. And neither do we. So stop acting like we do. Stop using cop outs, stop being so uneducated. Stop being hateful, stop looking at us differently, stop hurting us, stop putting yourself above us. I have the same beating heart as anyone else. I have the same two feet, and two hands. I am the same.

I am a strong person. I am a loving person. I am a funny person. I am a caring person. I am a good person. I am a tough person. And I don’t take shit from anyone. I am a part of the LGBT community, and I am a human being on this planet. I won’t accept half of an effort anymore. I won’t allow you to make us feel different. I won’t allow you to hurt us. I won’t allow you to win anymore. I am afraid. I am unlucky. I am unsafe. But I am not alone.

I am different, yes, but I am the same.



















After West Virginia came Kentucky. Usually, Im not a fan of southern states. I don’t enjoy how slow they move. They’re literally slower in everything they do: talking, driving, walking, learning, evolving… But I actually enjoyed Kentucky a lot. The drive there was beautiful and full of greenery and mountains. The speed limit was 70 mph and no one was really on the roads until I got closer to Lexington. I ended up stopping first at the Raven Run Nature Sanctuary. It was a quaint little drive through horse farms and huge houses until I got to a little reservation area with different trails. If you know me, you know I get lost a lot. So, I made the wise decision to take the “blue paths” which are the easiest paths to navigate through the meadows of the sanctuary. It was around 80 degrees and sunny and just a little walk was all I needed.


I packed a peanut butter and fluff sandwich and stopped on the path to eat this while I rested up and made a 180 back to my car. I was going to check out Lexington but I didn’t feel like going into the city. Instead, I kept driving west through Louisville towards my next destination (St. Louis). I ended up getting off the highway and driving through Louisville a little which was nice. There were a lot of shops and BBQ diners to eat at but I skipped them in sake of money. There was a two way road and it wasnt difficult to navigate. Tempted by the smokey smell of barbeque chicken in the air, I kept driving until I got to a Motel 6 in Dale, Indiana. I was literally in the middle of nowhere. Immediately, I regret not getting some food in Kentucky for dinner before getting to this little place. It was a tiny little town but I did not feel afraid, I felt secure. I got comfortable in the motel room and tried to figure out the time. The nice lady at the front desk had warned me that my phone’s clock might change back and forth between eastern and central times because we were apparently right on the line. I drove a few miles down the street to get pizza from Jenk’s Pizza.


It was less than I expected, I must say. But I really don’t know why I was expecting more. However, it was still delicious and I got a “personal pizza” which was about 6 inches around and gone in 4 minutes. Driving back to the motel was a little nerve racking. I was smoking a joint and enjoying the beautiful Indiana sunset when I stopped at the only intersection of the whole town. A cop pulled up at the other side of it and I brought the joint down below the window and held in the monstrous hit I had just taken. I would’ve been holding my breath regardless because the laws in Indiana are much different than the laws in Mass and I could technically have gone to prison for up to a year and paid a $5,000 fine just for having weed on me. Anyways, I got away with it and continued back to the motel where I watched American Idol and fell sound asleep once again.



I woke up, got ready, and left the motel but on my way out, I had my first encounter with a stranger. He talked to me about his son, Aaron Singer, who lives in St. Louis (which I told him was my next destination). Apparently, his son works for Nike after he got let go by Bally Fitness (which got shut down). He’s looking for people to train as managers. Although, I don’t think Id be fit for a job, it was nice to be recognized. We talked for a while and I learned that he owns a beauty salon where he has “a bunch of girls” working for him. He just does maintenance at the motel for “insurance purposes.” He gave me his son’s business card and told me to call Nike and say I know Aaron Singer so that I could get a job. It was a great chat and we bid each other farewell as I went on my way to Missouri. 


So I’m here in Kansas. I’ve stopped in West Virginia, Kentucky, Indiana, St. Louis, and Lawrence. So far, things have run smoothly besides the one mishap where I may or may not have left my glasses behind at a motel in Missouri. The “nice” cleaning lady helped me look for them and then suggested I try the Dollar Tree down the street to replace my $200 pair of Guess prescription eye glasses. I immediately broke out into an unattractive sweat when I realized how naked my face felt without my glasses on it. I high-tailed back to the motel (which I had driven 20 mins away from) in an effort to find my long-lost glasses. Thankfully, my mom got another pair made for me and sent them to Kansas the next day so I could pick them up at my friend’s house. So, besides this, my trip has not had too much excitement yet and I am thankful for this. The beginning of this trip was for me to relax and get things off of my mind. I have been very relaxed and it is a great feeling to rid yourself of all your problems and issues of real life and just focus on the problems/issues of the trip instead. Where to park, where to eat, or where to stay at night. It is very relieving to only have to worry about the essentials of my life and not of anyone else’s. 


I woke up at 2am to leave my house in Brockton at 3am. I got a bit of a late start after re-organizing some of my supplies and bidding farewell to my parents. It was a nice night and the air seemed crisp. Even just driving through Brockton, it already felt like I was in another world: the roadtrip world. I watched the sun rise as I crossed into New York, which was bittersweet because this was the time everyone was on the road and heading to work. I got stuck in some traffic until after I got through New Jersey but this couldn’t really dampen my mood. Eventually, I stopped in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania for breakfast at a diner that I had yelped beforehand. It was cheap and it was actually delicious. But very ghetto. I don’t mean to be rude, but it was. It was rundown and it was located in a not-so-wealthy part of town between a puerto rican restaurant and an abandoned gas station. I got 2 eggs over medium with white toast, bacon, homefries, and coffee for only $6. This was my first meal on my own at a diner, and I have to say I really enjoyed it. Then I was off to West Virginia to stay at the Knights Inn for the night. This was quite interesting. There were groups of construction workers staying in the rooms next to mine and they cat-called to me every chance they got. I was wiping the 5,000 bugs off the front of my car when a cracked out lady with a broken heart tattooed on her arm came over to me and asked if “the pop machine” was broken. She said she had chosen the Pepsi button but got 2 waters instead. I wasn’t very intrigued by this conversation but I was being friendly enough for her to feel the need to continue it. She started dropping a bunch of coins that she was hoarding in her sweaty hands. I helped her pick them up and she tried to help too but her water started pouring out of the bottle she was holding with no cap. After finally getting all her belongings back together, she asked me for five singles and told me her boyfriend was in the room with another woman. It was all quite confusing and very cliche. It was all I expected and more from a Knights Inn in West Virginia. I spent $58 on this motel which is ridiculous to me now because I’m finding places for $40 a night in the midwest. It was weird being on my own in a motel in the middle of West Virginia but I enjoyed the solidarity. I rolled a joint, went for a 20 second cruise up the street. I cut the cruise short because it started looking dark and creepy. When I returned, I ate a corn muffin and watched some all- american TV to make me feel more at home. I put my hotel door- wedge alarm on high and went to sleep. Surprisingly, I fell asleep right away. The next morning, I woke up to have breakfast with my friend from high school, Casey. We went to iHop which I have never given a chance before and I don’t know why! I’ve been missing out. I enjoyed the two x two x two with pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Also, theres a Butter Pecan syrup that I don’t know how I’ve lived without all these years. After breakfast, I got a coffee and got back on the road. Of course, I had a little scare at the gas station when I thought my car was leaking some sort of oil. After hitting up an Auto Zone, I was relieved to find out it was just my A/C and I was freaking out for no reason. I couldn’t bare the thought of having this type of problem with my car so early on in the trip. Kentucky would be my next big stop! Image

Finally, I'm on the road.

Pit stop in West Virginia. My tri-pod was the most used piece of equipment during the trip!

Today Never Promises a Tomorrow

I leave for my cross- country trip in 10 days and in light of the recent events in Boston, I feel more prepared then ever before. Never have I felt strong of an urge to LIVE. I’ve been dwelling with the facts for the past few days and like everyone else, I’m truly disgusted in humanity. It just seems like we’ll never get it right. I woke up this morning with a clear vision of what I want to do with my life: help others. It may sound vague to the rest of you, but its enough for me. Since I graduated college, I’ve been afraid of what the future holds. Too shy to send in job applications, and too lazy to make a resume. I would always tell people I want to work with cameras, or I want to work with food, or I want to work with kids. These answers have never been enough for myself and I’m sure they haven’t impressed anyone else either. But this morning when I woke up, I realized that all I really want to do is help others. And finally, this was enough. It dawned on me that I’ll never be able to change everyone and I will never be able to fix these broken human beings, but there ARE things that I can change and there ARE people that I can fix. I can only hope and wish that the other people on this planet play their role as well. If we can’t take care of eachother, then there’s no chance we can take care of this earth we live in.

So, as I was saying, my trip starts in 10 days. We’ve adapted to this world so that we can thrive in it’s atmosphere. Our bodies are just the vesicles we have created through adaptations to protect our contents. I plan on taking full advantage of it. For all I know, this is the only time I will ever exist. I would love to see the world around me simply because I will never have the chance to see it again. Everyone expects to live forever; we think that time moves slowly. If my life ended sooner than I expected it to, I would want to have made sure that I took advantage of it.

One day, things will change. I can only hope they change for the best. But for now, stay strong Boston and continue being kind to one another after this whole thing blows over. Be kind to eachother and even if you help one person a day by holding a door or carrying a heavy bag, you’ve done something and you’ve left your mark.

I remember when it was rebellious to smoke weed. Now, its just fun. One of the first times I ever got stoned was in a park near my house. I was in high school and I remember being dropped off at my house after we smoked. Naturally, my grandparents were visiting. So, I devised a clever plan and told them I was at a friends’ house that day. And this friend of mine, whom you’ve never met and don’t know their name, owns multiple pets. And because I have so many unbearable allergies to ridiculous things like hampsters, birds, timothy grass, and dust mites – just to name a few- its almost not even funny. Therefore, my grandparents did not find it funny at all when my eyes were pulsing out of my head and looked like they had been drawn on my face with an extra thick red sharpie. Like any other teenager, I immediately retreated to my bedroom. But of course it was dinner time and I had to leave behind the comfort of my own walls for an awkward dinner with my parents and grandparents. Even after such a cliche first time experience, I fell in love. Mary Jane has had my heart ever since. I will always be an advocate and I will always passionatley argue on her behalf. Our country has mixed priorities and call me a hippie (do it, I dare you) but I know this world would be a much more peaceful place if no one ever criminilized the plant in the first place.

Anyways… I didn’t give myself the label of a “stoner,” until I had the guts to smoke alone. Without anyone there. When I first started smoking weed, I thought it was for social purposes. Everyone would get together and smoke and laugh and have a grand ole’ time. I’d meet new people and make new friends every day and I loved it. The stoner community is the most rewarding community to be a part of and I dont ever see myself leaving it behind. But once I smoked weed by myself, just for the pure pleasure of feeling stoned, I knew there was no turning back. I decided to take my bowl for a quick cruise. It was around 9pm and I packed about 2 hits worth of weed into the bowl and told my parents I was going to Dairy Queen. Then, I drove off in the other direction and headed for cloud nine. Right after the first few hits, I could feel my eyelids head south. Then I realized I had not turned on the radio yet so I turned the dial and the first song that played was “Dazed and Confused” by Led Zeppelin..  Classic. It was perfect. The only thing on my mind was the road ahead of me.  The music was seeping into my body and I felt every note ringing through me. I couldn’t help but scrunch my face and clench my fists as I sung along with Robert Plant. After about 20 minutes of pure bliss, I realized I didnt know where the heck I was anymore. I knew I was only 20 minutes from my house, but still, had no idea where I was at all. A state of panic replaced my previous nonchalant attitude. After making a turn and losing myself even more, I texted my friend my surroundings and they guided me back home. The stoner community at its finest yet again. 

I’ve only shared with you some of my first experiences smoking weed. I am not a lazy person and I do not drive my car stoned all day long. I am successful, I am happy, and I am a stoner. I have had many other experiences with Mary Jane that I would never be able to fit into one blog. Dont judge others for smoking weed if you are not going to judge others for drinking alcohol or smoking cigarettes. In fact, dont judge people at all. Its okay to get lost with yourself sometimes. Sometimes, its exacty what you need. 

26 days until I leave for my trip. Until then, I’m nothing but an anxious wanderer. I dont think I’ll ever be fully prepared for a trip like this. I’m assumming I’ll get the hang of it as time goes on. Except, unlike anything else ever in my life, I’ll be getting the hang of it by myself. 

Okay, well, I’m not gonna brag … Okay, I am gonna brag. I think I’m pretty tough. Sometimes, I envision a creepy guy breaking into my car at a motel when I throw open my room door and run up to him, tackle him, give him a swift jab, right hook, and retreat back to my room after calling him a “fuckin’ asshole” in my best boston accent.. But thats just sometimes. Other times, I envision a creepy man breaking into my car as I helplessly watch through my hotel window, calling him a “fuckin’ asshole” in my best boston accent. Either way, I would prefer to avoid that type of situation in entirety. However, I’ll be driving through the midwest and most likely staying in creepy motels along the way in order to avoid getting mauled by a wild bison or eaten by a rabid prairie dog. I doubt either of those things would happen if I decided to camp instead of stay in a motel. But I know I would probably crash the car the next day on account of sleeping with both eyes wide open the night before in a tent, alone, in the woods… with bugs. I can imagine every snap of a twig sending electricity through my body and jolting me awake every 30 seconds. I can also imagine a whisp of my hair touching my neck ever so gently so that I think theres a clan of daddy long legs crawling up my back. But let me stray from all this negativity. Realistically, I’ll be snuggled up in my sleeping bag on a cigarette burned motel bed, with my iPhone and favorite TBS television show playing in the background as I facetime with my mom and dad. I even bought a great door alarm that you wedge at the bottom of a door and it rings if someone were to pick the lock and begin to open it. Hopefully, this apparently peircing noise woud void off any unwanted visitors. Either that, or I better get my boxing gloves back on. I could totally take them.