Passport Envy

When I was a little girl, I dreamed of a bedroom wall completely obscured by a giant map.

This was to be no ordinary map.

It would show not just one state nor one continent nor one suggested path. Rather it would show all the places to which I wanted to one day go. All of them. And in my mind I pictured that when I discovered some new place to add to my list, the map would magically update accordingly, even if I wasn’t in my room at the time of discovery. (There were probably sparkles involved.)

Instead of merely names of towns and roadways, my map would say things like:

“Best fruit stand ever, right HERE!—>”


“Must stop HERE for ice cream!—>”


“<— SO MANY SEASHELLS and sand like silk!”


“Ask for Marco– he makes the best latte (and is fun to look at).”

And it would most definitely point out places where a person could exercise her dog. Because I was going to have a dog, all my own, naturally. And it would not be named Sandy.

But I digress.

The map.

The most magical, wonderful, important map EVER. On my bedroom wall.


I haven’t found one yet, but I’ll keep looking. In the meantime, where should I go next?



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