Some more thoughts on selling panties…

Ok so I told you about how some girls confessed to selling panties as a way to make money for travels the other day, right? And I can’t stop thinking about it because obviously who would even stop thinking about something so fascinating? This trope that we see on the telly from time to time is totally real. Who knew? (ok I did sort of know)

Of course I can’t remember where all I have seen this particular storyline….perhaps you can let me know in the comments?

Definitely once on Younger that chick who doesn’t look young tried to sell her panties and it all went wrong. That’s the whole point of the trope, right? To tell you how wrong it is to sell your previously worn and not yet laundered underwear to strangers…. Because karma, obvi. (this subject has turned me into someone who uses the word “obvi”)

So of course my thinking goes to what is the worst that could happen? 

I obviously have to make a list of questions that I need to ask myself seriously before setting off on this potential business venture…

Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

1.) Is there a chance that I could be plagued with visions of men sitting in corners while they deeply sniff my underwear? And because I have a so-far-undiagnosed-but-still-very-real anxiety disorder is it likely that I will have actual nightmares about this?

2.) What if someone sends them back and demands a refund? Will this harm my self-esteem?

3.) What if someone local orders all of them to be shipped to a PO Box and the curiousity sends me into a tailspin? Do I have the stamina to sit outside of a post office until they are collected? Will such knowledge ruin my life? I am still not over getting an anonymous Valentine’s card that one time when I was in high school.

4.) Would it be wrong to put clean underwear on the dog and then sell those?

5.) Where would the tail go though?

6.) Can you be arrested for selling  dirty underwear that you pretended was yours but was actually the dog’s?

7.) What would the charge be?

8.) How does bail work?

9.) Can you use money earned from selling dirty panties to pay for your bail to get you out of jail for selling dirty panties?

And lastly but very most importantly….

10.) Is is possible to clone actual human beings from underwear DNA and are we sure that all these men who so readily buy used panties are not somehow involved in a dodgy cloning scam? And if they don’t know that it is dog DNA in the underwear  sold to them by me is it possible that I might be contributing to a dog/human hybrid army that will eventually cause world peace because let’s face it dogs are so much nicer than people….

Actually in that case maybe I should sell my underwear.

Now I just need to find the dog…

PS: I sort of feel like maybe I need to clarify that I’m kidding about exploiting the dog before I get into trouble. It’s Friday. I don’t feel like trouble.

 

Should I sell my used underwear?

I’ve noticed that as I age I become far and far less of the sort-of-a-prude I used to be when I was a kid. There are things I have massively relaxed into as the years have gone by and I admit it feels kind of good. Things like recreational marijuana use, the odd unit of alcohol (gosh that sounds funny but it’s better than listing all the different alcohols) and even causal sex don’t terrify me in the way they once did.

None of that was really the point….

ANYWAY…. I’m in way too many different groups on Facebook, but one of them is a group for girls who love traveling. I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to be in there because there is a definite single-girl-alone-in-the-world vibe – which I love of course but it doesn’t apply to me.

Because of one of these girl groups, the other day I discovered something super interesting. It turns out that it is not that uncommon for girls to sell their used underwear as a way to make extra cash for their travels.

Now of course we’ve all seen the episodes of whatever (Girls, Younger) on TV where this sort of things goes disastrously pear-shaped… But…

I cannot help wondering if this is a viable thing to do! Ok sure… it’s creepy as hell. But if there are men out there willing to pay for their bizarre fetishes, like purchasing women’s used underwear, I really don’t see why women shouldn’t take advantage of that. It surely is just a case of two consenting adults, right? And if you can get past the creep factor and not allow too many weird thoughts into your head post postage… Well then it’s a little bit like free money, right?

And so my question remains….

Should I sell my used underwear?

Or should I just write a weird blog post about how I’m considering it so that the next time you see me you won’t be able to think about anything other than the fact that maybe my panties are for sale…

Spoilt Little Traveller

This past week has been a good one for feeling the love on the thoughtful gifts for a traveller front and I’m feeling a little spoilt by the humans in my life. Maybe I’m just a daft old cow, but I have to admit that it feels nice to be carving out a reputation as The One Who Travels instead of just being, you know, that chick who has a lot of cats. Although I don’t really mind being the chick who has a lot of cats.

What was my point again?

Oh yeah: travel themed gifts are the bomb.

The fabulously-blessed-with-all-the-hair Eleanor from JustEllaBella gifted me with the most thoughtful handcrafted jewellery on Saturday. She has a little side business called A Cup of Cute which is basically a cup of adorable handcrafted jewellery (which you can get from my favourite geeky spot Geek World if you so wish) and of course she made my little Cup of Cute especially for me.

You know how you get those people who are not only crazy talented at crafts and things, but are somehow also crazy talented at using their crafting skills to make you feel special as hell? Well Ella is one of those.

She made me a ring with a map of Africa on it, and immediately I knew that it was especially for me to wear on my trips overseas. Why? So that I don’t forget where I come from, of course! And then she made me a pair of gorgeous protea flower earrings. Of course I feel all teary just looking at them. All I can think is: Proteas! How perfectly indicative of this place where we live. How beautiful.

Of course now I feel a little bit protea obsessed. I need more protea things!

Like a handbag… I need a protea handbag…. hmmmm….

I digress!

On top of being spoilt with trinkets I had to have a huge laugh because my husband spoilt me as well.

I posted this update on my Facebook page the other day:

And then what happened?

My husband bought me hiking pumps!

Guys: Life is weird.

And I do quite love that I can be a traveller and still wear pumps. Don’t you?

 

Why I Can Afford to Travel

Can I confess something? Every time I admit that I am planning a trip I am overcome with a mass of guilt. Sometimes I know well enough that I have a bit of a guilt complex in general, so acknowledging that helps, but most of the time I honestly feel like I am just a spoilt brat. I sort of am.

Don’t get me wrong. I do work hard to make our travel goals come true. But it’s the kind of “hard work” that is made possible by a whole lot of pre-existing privilege. I have a pretty good knowledge of what things cost because I’m always looking, and I try really hard to make sure that we can pull things off on a very tight budget. I pour a lot of hours into figuring out how to make a small amount of money go as far as possible. A lot of effort goes into what I achieve. And sometimes what I achieve feels like a damn miracle.

I assure you it is not.

Sometimes it’s tempting to take all the credit. Sometimes it’s tempting to say things like “If I can do it, anyone can.”

But calling my travel achievements “hard work” does not take into account one very inescapable truth:

I’m lucky.

  • I’m lucky because I have a husband who doesn’t mind living a super frugal life at home so that once or twice a year we can splurge on an adventure. We keep “extras” to a minimum. Take-aways. Booze. Dining out. New clothes. Electricity. (that last one is only sort of a joke)
  • I’m lucky because my husband’s salary pays for all of our expenses. Ty pays for all of our day-to-day life and there is zero wiggle room there. He juggles it like a pro though! Because he does this, I can put away the small bits of money that I make every month and save until we can afford to use it on a trip.
  • I’m lucky because my husband can take leave at any time of year and isn’t forced to take it in December like a lot of our peers are. December is high season. Being able to travel in low season makes a huge difference to affordability.
  • I’m lucky because I have a mom and dad who have bought me plane tickets before. And who have loaned me money to go on trips and been patient about the time it takes me to pay them back. They understand that I am far better at diminishing debt than I am at saving money.
  • I’m lucky because I have people who will look after my kids for me. My mom, my sister, and Noah’s paternal grandmother are always accommodating when it comes to Noah. Tom and Bridgette’s mother and grandmothers are the same. Without these people Ty and I would not be able to do this.
  • I’m lucky because I have tenants who look after my home and my animals when I am away. If I had to pay for a house and pet sitter that would be quite a huge extra expense and I wouldn’t be able to afford it.
  • I’m lucky because I have a lot of the kind of privilege that is easy to overlook when you’re scrambling to make things happen. It’s there though. And it plays a big role.

 

So, yes. I work hard. I save hard. I plan hard.  I sacrifice some things to make our travel plans work. But very little of what I am able to do rests solely on me. Very often my trips occur because of a cosmic series of fortunate events , and I would be remiss to ever assume that if I can do it anyone can because we all live different lives and we’re all caught up in different circumstances.

I am, however, grateful to myself for making the decision to use my circumstances to my advantage. I’m grateful to myself for finally admitting what I wanted and for having the courage to go after it despite the anxiety issues that I keep triggering because of it. And while I do admit that I am a spoiled princess who is able to travel because of a whole bunch of luck, I also think that I can be used as an example of how we can sometimes look at what we want and see it as impossible when actually it’s just improbable.

Improbable is something that I can work with. It took me a long time to learn that. But I know it now.

Zanzibar and the question of our duty as travellers…

I didn’t go to Zanzibar because I wanted to go to Zanzibar. I went to Zanzibar because the plane tickets were cheap. That’s the truth of it. I’ve never felt any need to go there. In my head it was just another island with tropical fruit and possibly a good snorkeling scene. Lovely, yes. But essential? Not really.

My Travel Bucketlist (in no particular order) is as follows:

  • Italy
  • Germany
  • Prague
  • Iceland
  • Israel
  • Egypt
  • Turkey
  • Cambodia
  • Vietnam
  • Japan
  • Morocco
  • The Philippines
  • Scotland
  • Ireland
  • Alaska
  • A Roadtrip from SA to Kenya

 

Those are my must sees. So why did I go to Zanzibar? (more…)

Travel Bug Bites and Combatting the Voices in My Head

12744634_10153763236316117_4500512389828294865_nSo, even though I’ve always known that “travel” is one of those all-round Bucket List items that I desperately want for my life, something quite serious has changed in me in the last little while. A massive shift over the line between dreaming and doing has taken place, and while I am still not entirely sure about my “how” I am quite confident in my “why”. I can’t keep telling myself that you can only travel when you’re young, or when you’re single, or when you don’t have kids. I can’t keep telling my children that they can do anything they set their minds to, and encouraging them to travel as soon as they leave school and not stop for at least ten years, and then hide away to have a little sniffle about how I can’t manage to fit in all the things I want to do with my life and how I wish I had been brave enough before I became too settled. If I wait until all the kids have left the house, there won’t be enough time to fit it all in. And honestly I don’t know about you, but I have heard WAY too many horror stories about how someone finally retired from whatever they were doing only to succumb to some sort of fatal incident before even remotely getting to settle into their “real” life. I can’t do that to myself! Besides, we’re already a pretty unconventional family. We might as well continue adding to our list of all the things we do differently, right?

So I’m planning my next trip. And I’m almost ready to make it happen. I just need to squash that little voice of justification. I recognise the voice though. It’s the same voice that told me that dancing was ridiculous and that the happiness it brought me was of no consequence. It’s the same voice that told me that being a musician is ridiculous, even if it’s just for fun. It’s the same voice that laughs at me for wanting to write, because how on earth is that ever going to work?

I’m starting to figure you out, voice. And I’m getting better at telling you to eff off.