I find that a lot of people wish they could see experience more places, if only they could afford to do it. They’re often surprised to hear how little I’ve actually spent on my own trips. Should you be someone who would like to travel but needs to do so on a shoestring budget, I’ve put together some tips that might help.

1. Make It A 3 Day Weekend

Getting a week off work is a ginormous pain in the ass. But asking for a Friday here or there is much easier and can give you just enough time to squeeze in a mini trip. It’s also cheaper to go for 3 days than for 7 or 10. Sure, you’ll be completely worthless to your family and your employer on Monday. And Tuesday. And possibly even Wednesday. But you should be just fine by the time the next weekend rolls around!

Of course you won’t get to do everything in 3 days that you could pack into a week, but if you prioritize and plan ahead you can jam a hell of a lot of sights and sounds into 72 hours. Believe me.

2. Getting There Is Half The Battle

I’m fortunate enough to live near a major airport. That means I can fly to just about any city up and down the east coast for less than $200 if I time my trip right and scope out independent airline sites like Southwest and Allegiant. But not everyone has the luxury of hopping on a plane for less than an arm and a leg and your best working kidney.

When we drove the 1400 miles from Iowa to Florida, I was awed by how many places we went through during the first 8 hours of our trip that I had never visited before. I kept thinking about all the missed opportunities, vacation destinations that had been just a car ride away from me for the past 26 years that I’d completely ignored, and I vowed not to make that mistake again. I immediately started a mental list of all the cities I’d never been to that would be within driving distance of my new Orlando base (Miami… Savannah… Charleston… ).

And don’t tell me there isn’t any place cool by you. Get out your map and one of those mathematical circle drawing thingies and I bet discover places right next door that you never think about.

3. Cheap Hotels and Not At All Hotels

The best place to stay is a free place. Call up friends, family and that guy you play Scrabble with on Facebook and ask if you can occupy a spare bedroom or couch for the weekend. Make it clear that you don’t expect them to foot your food or entertainment bill though, or you’ll find it difficult to make repeat visits.

If you don’t know someone in the area, then it’s time to make sweet, sweet love to the divinity that is Priceline.com. Shop around on other travel sites first to get a sense of what hotel rates are. Then hit the “Name Your Own Price” section of Priceline’s site and offer to pay about half the going rate. Seriously. I do it all the time and am beyond thrilled about 99.9% of the time.

The other 0.1% of the time? I end up in a small, out of date room in a great location. Meh. At least it was cheap. (My other favorite part about Priceline is that you pay for the room ahead of time. It helps me to break up the expenses into manageable chunks.)

Save even more by getting yourself some travel buddies and cramming way too many people into far too small of a place.

4. Cut Your Food Budget

New York City can be one of the most expensive places to eat - or one of the cheapest. When I visited I lived on street meat, hot pretzels, bagel breakfasts and pizza slices. And it was fabulous.

Most major cities will have plenty of reasonably priced dining options if you’re willing to forgo the reservation lines - and possibly the food pyramid- for your visit. Even theme parks offer all you can eat meal passes for the day now if you can stand to stay out of the Themed And Therefore We Will Require A Second Mortgage Restaurants.

Sure, five start dining is nice. But so is cheap food in a brand new city.

5. Instead of Tourist, Play “Local”

Locals always know the fun stuff to do. And they aren’t blowing their retirement accounts (or grocery budgets) to keep themselves amused every weekend.

Scour the Internet for free things to do, coupon codes, and local advice on what’s interesting to see and experience. If you have a little bit more money, prioritize and choose one bust the bank experience (or don’t, and brag to everyone you know that you came home with money in your pocket). The nice thing about going for a 3 day weekend is that you have to be greedy with your time, so it’s easier to cut Tourist Trap That Costs More Than My Dental Work off the list.

Need some examples because you think I’m full of shit? Walk in Central Park in NYC. Go to a beach or *shudder* lake. Troll the antique shops. Attend a street fair or free concert in a park. Visit the national parks, landmarks and monuments. Hang out outside known celebrity hot spots.

I realize some of this stuff might sound stupid if you’re used to do everything by the travel guide. And yes, the Ritz has better sheets than the Super 8 or cousin Mel’s pull out couch. And if you can afford to tool around the world in the lap of luxury, then by all means… enjoy.

But if the only way you’re going to get your ass out of the house and into the world is by making $500 go a very, very long way - then I think you’ll find these small sacrifices worth the overall experience. And I hope this helps. :-)

Maybe tomorrow we’ll talk about where you can find that $500. I mean, you know, without taking your clothes off. Again.

Share your travel tips in the comments! Yay!

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It must be nice, they say.

It must be nice to travel.

It must be nice to have weekends with the girls.

It must be nice to live grand adventures and dramatic moments that have nothing to do with the daily grind of getting from one week to the next.

It must be nice to get to do/see/have those things.

And I think to myself, it sure is.

Not because I think my life is always dramatic or perfect or filled with laughter and interesting stories. And not because I am smug or self-satisfied, thinking I have somehow “figured out” anything of any consequence. No. There is not even an ounce of superiority in me as I affirm that “yes, yes it is nice.”

There is, instead, an enormous sense of relief that washes over me. I can feel the lightening all over again as if it was the first moment the burden was lifted from me.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that burden lately. I watch from afar as friends struggle with it. I read other women write about it. And it’s all too easy to remember how god damned heavy it was to carry the burden with me.

The burden said that time was marching past. It told me that I was running out of time. It sat on my chest and pummeled me over and over again with the message that I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t doing enough, wasn’t at all what I was supposed to be. The burden carried with it a constant sense of dread like that of a ticking time bomb strapped to your back.

But it’s gone now. It’s been months since I’ve felt that level of suffocation, and reading about it only clarifies for me the stark difference between Then and Now.

And the only thing that changed was me.

Neither my husband nor I make any more money than we used to. In fact, we earn less than we have in the past. And we make far, far less than damn near every other couple we know. I still have obligations and responsibilities, including one more whole mouth to feed than I had just three years ago. I don’t have any more education than I did on my 19th birthday, and neither does Jared.

I’m not smarter or prettier or more fortunate than I have been at any other point in my life.

Not a single one of the obstacles that I’d always perceived to be “holding me back” has been removed from my path.

And yet, somehow, my life has exploded into a tidal wave of opportunity upon opportunity.

And again, I don’t say that to be smug. You can’t say your life is good on the Internet without pissing someone off - but truly, it is more than better than how it was before. It is a different life entirely, one more full than I had ever even dreamed about for myself. And as much as I cringe saying that, bracing myself for the backlash, I want so badly to bottle it up and give it to the people around me who I see pinned down.

I want to tell them it can be OK. I want to tell them how I know that.

I can pinpoint the turning point. The catalyst between that life and this one.

I came back from a trip to Philadelphia known as TequilaCon and was overwhelmed and amazed by the stories of people stepping outside their comfort zones. I realized that it had been years since my own comfort zone had been challenged, and I started to panic. The Burden was suddenly doubling in size and I felt the walls closing in around me.

I emailed a very good friend of mine and begged her to fix me. Show me. Shake me. Do something to make me understand how my life had gotten so damn stagnant. She advised me to look closer at my fears and myself. She typed the words that changed my life…

“…so i will ask you, what do you feel that are you being held back from? what is it that you desire that you feel that you can’t have by being married to jared and being mom to your children? are you sure that you really are being held back and not simply afraid to try certain things?

On May 10th, 2008 I woke up.

I suppose I had started the process several months earlier when I had thrown caution to the wind and moved to Florida. I moved further down the path in December when I realized that I needed to go see a doctor.

But May 10th is the day it all clicked. It’s the day I really started living.

That’s the day I realized that it didn’t matter how much money I made or didn’t make, because I could choose how to spend every single dollar. And I had a whole world full of options and alternatives available to me if I would just open my eyes to them.

And it didn’t matter how many hours I had in the day, because they were MY hours. It was MY time to spend however I wanted, and I had a brand new one to spend however I wanted over and over again.

This was my life - is my life. Right here. Right now. And it was simply waiting for me to step into it.

Even with two kids. Even with the husband and the job and the chubby thighs. Even without the degree or the fairy godmother that would finance my life of leisure. This was - this is - my life. And almost all of the reasons I’d been giving myself for putting it off were bullshit.

Since May 10th, I have…

• been to New York City.
• twice
• watched my children swim with manatee
• went away with my husband for the weekend
• twice
• been in a professional photo shoot
• started a radio show
• had a fabulous girls weekend in Orlando
• been to two political rallies
• once with a press pass and special access to “the media area”
• attended my first protest
• redefined my job
• gotten my first official paid writing gig
• and my second

And the only thing that’s changed… is me.

I tell you this not to impress you or lecture you or bore you to tears. I tell you this to remind you, to implore you to believe, that the world really is your oyster. Your dreams are attainable and they are within reach at this very moment. Life does not wait for kids to grow up or raises or retirement. It marches on with or without our participation, simply waiting for us to jump into it.

I tell you this to remind you that there is a way. There is always a way.

And I tell you this also because, sometimes, it’s good to remember… yeah, it is nice.

Tomorrow?

When you grow up?

When the kids move out?

When you get married or divorced?

What do you want to do with your life?

When are you planning to do it?

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Today’s guest posts at: Finn’s (When I Grow Up…) and Modern Mami (Raising Boys and Girls)

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No, really.

If you ask me how my day was, I will likely tell you it was “fine”. And if you read my blog on a regular basis, you’re only going to get snippets from my actual life. For the most part, it’s just the highs and lows. The things that make me angry, make me laugh, or block my thoughts to the point that I cannot possibly form another coherent thought until I have fully vetted and fleshed out that particular brain buster.

My life is pretty routine. It’s not typically anything more or less extraordinary than anyone else’s life. In fact, I’d venture to guess it’s probably less exciting than a whole bunch of other daily routines out there based on nothing more than the fact that I have one. A routine, that is.

I simply cannot imagine that anyone would actually be interested in what I did today.

What that means is that this here blog tends to give a picture of my life that more closely resembles the scraps on a cutting room floor than an accurate documentary of my life. The shit that winds up here rarely even makes the highlight reel because this is where I work it all out. This is where I run the drills and practice the principles. This where I run in circles, but rarely do you see the daily race.

Which is why, sometimes, I forget to tell you that Oh, Yeah, Jared and I are fine - why do you ask?

And I never think to mention that I recently plunked down a metric ass ton of cash to fly home for Christmas.

And I completely neglected to tell you about the day my husband drove into my car.

Oh yes. He did. And if you’re thinking it doesn’t look that bad it’s because you’re not trying to open the fucking passenger side door. Which? By the way? No longer fucking opens!

Both panels are banged up to the point that they will need to be replaced. My insurance will happily cover it with the addition of my $500 deductible.

Did I mention I bought plane tickets? For Christmas? That holiday with gift giving that’s coming up soon? How about December 14th? Oh, you don’t know what December 14th is? That would be my son’s birthday, which is coming up just 11 damn days before Christmas.

Yeah. So. Sorry I forgot to tell you that.
——————————————————————————————
Today’s Guest Post Challenge post can be seen here: The Working Poor (on See Gina Blog)

I took my two kids to the event in Orlando.

You can see more pictures from the Orlando protest on my Flickr set.

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…own multiple hot glue guns. Which I’ve used.

…can sew.

…hate recapping. If you ask me how my day was, I’ll tell you it was “fine”.

,,,would rather have salt than sugar. That includes chocolate.

…never wear nail polish.

…have had 14 brothers and sisters.

…am genetically an “only child”.

…once got kicked off the school bus for fighting.

…have worked as a voice over actor for commercials.

…believed in Santa Claus until I was 16.

…still believe in magic.

…always fall asleep when I’m riding in a car.

…suck at bowling, golfing, volleyball and playing pool.

…taught my son how to fish.

…was inspired by Finn. Again.

And I don’t know that you…

When people just randomly throw up pictures of their kids or family members or friends and are all “Oh, look! Isn’t So and So awesome?!?!” and you’re all “Uh… I guess you had to be there.”

Or what about when every parent on the freaking planet feels the need to do the blow by blow “You’ll never guess what WE did this weekend?!?!” on the Monday after a major holiday? I mean seriously, how many times can we be expected to say “Oh, wow, they have Halloween in Arizona too?!?! NO WAY!!”

GAH! I hate that! One day I’m going to breakdown and leave the comment we all really want to leave that says “this would only be interesting if I was your mother!”

I mean, do these bloggers really think random strangers give two craps about random pictures of random people in your life? Like you’re Brad freaking Pitt or something and “Oh my God! Look! Your kids walk up right too! Oooh!”

Don’t you just hate that? I know.
————————————————————————–
Today’s Guest Post Challenge stuff can be found at: Patrick Says and The Orlando Sentinel.

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We were lying beside each other in the darkness, a momentary silence resting between us that seemed to be weighted with doubts and assumptions and questions never asked because you thought you knew the answers.

“Did you vote against Proposition 2?”

“What? Of course not,” he assured me. And then, as if he needed to make clear his motives, “I believe in the separation of church and state.”

(Edited: he voted AGAINST Prop 2. This was a typo on my part. He voted to NOT take away the rights of gay couples.)

I sensed there was something more to that. Some ugly chasm between us that was just now flirting beneath the surface of our dialogue. “And?”

“And what? It’s none of my business what people do. It’s not my job to judge.” I felt him straining to escape the conversation.

“What is there to judge?”

“Britt, you know what I mean. Let’s not talk about it. It doesn’t matter if I think it’s wrong. I do things all the time that are wrong.”

“You think it’s wrong to be gay?”

“It’s not what I believe. You think Jews are wrong, right? I mean you don’t judge, but you think what they believe is wrong because of what you believe.”

“Actually, no. I don’t. It’s not what I believe, but I believe that fully aware that I could be very, very wrong. And who the hell am I to say what’s right or wrong? But that’s not the point. You can’t compare choosing a religious doctrine to being gay. You make a choice about what you believe.”

“Yeah, well…”

The conclusion to that sentence hung between us in the night, taunting us to come closer and confirm its existence. I sat up and leaned closer to it to get a better look. He got up and walked into the bathroom in an attempt to make it go away. I called into the darkness after him.

“Jared, do you think being gay is a choice?”

“Yeah, so what if I do?”

My faith in our sameness unraveled with the ferocity of a broken spring. The oxygen ran from my body as quickly as my confidence. I couldn’t understand how this could be.

He couldn’t understand why it mattered. Why I was so upset.

I made the comparison to racism.

His honor and sense of justice flared at the implication.

I tried not to cry.

He struggled to comprehend why I would be so angry and how I could paint him in such an ugly light.

I forced myself to breathe normally and lower my voice. I stopped using words like angry and focused on disappointed and confused. I reminded him that I loved him and we settled back into the pillows together.

We let the conversation dropped and pretended to sleep.

How can this be? How can my husband, the man I know and love, think being gay is some kind of sin? A bad choice that people make?

I was reminded of the people I grew up with who lived with raging prejudices against blacks. Good people. Kind people. Loving people who were crippled with bigotry simply because they didn’t know any better.

It had never occurred to me that my husband could be suffering from the same kind of ignorance.

Again, the answers danced just out of reach in the darkness. I knew where it was coming from, and I knew that acknowledging it would mean putting words to my own conflicts.

He’s trying to be a good Christian. You know what those passages in the Bible say.

I know. I know. But I remember Gary struggling to come out.. I’ve talked to Paul. I know Sharon and Deborah and - no. This is not something they “chose” anymore than I “chose” to be straight. And they are not wrong. Who they are is not wrong.

But the Bible says…

Then the Bible is wrong!

My heart stopped.

Although I only said the words inside the solitude of my own head, they rang so loudly that I could have sworn they echoed around the room. I braced myself. For what, I’m not sure. But nothing came. Nothing except a peace, a quiet relief that I had faced it and owned it and would no longer have to dance along the outskirts of it anymore.

Being gay is not a choice, no matter what the Bible said. I was prepared to deal with what that said about my faith.

I spoke with my mom the next morning and confessed my revelation to her. She comforted me with another simple truth. “I read the letters in red.” And that helped.

And still… my husband. My husband who would practice tolerance but still carried the philosophy of loving “in spite of”. A man who would practice his own brand of kindness by offering to simply look away.

And I realized that that is where our society is failing. This is why we have Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell. This is why we “leave it up to the states”. Our decency tells us not to condemn, the basic goodness in us ensures that we won’t stand for violence. But our inability to wholly accept leaves us with the 21st century version of Jim Crow Laws.

Separate, but not equal.

Not openly condemning, but quietly looking away.

I guess, at least, I know now where to start.
—————————————————————-
Today’s contribution to The Guest Post Challenge can be found here: Why Angie & I Are Better Than You (A Whole Lotta Nothing)

I’m also talking about how to prevent daycare drop off meltdowns at Work It, Mom!

AND, Clearly, You’re Retarded is LIVE on TalkShoe at 9pm EST tonight discussing Internet Addiction. How much is too much? Click here for show details.

OK. That’s it. Feel free to comment about homosexuality not being a choice…. now.

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Most of you know this because you are my crowd and not of BlogHer. My Crowd attends gatherings with names like TequilaCon and post videos of ourselves doing body shots off one another’s labia.

We? Are the fucking party animals of the Internet, people.

And BlogHer? Well, BlogHer is kind of like that older sister of yours who married the guy with the good job and great teeth. She brings a bottle of wine to the dinner party and remembers your mother-in-law’s birthday. Before the actual day.

I? Joke about being a big deal on the Internet when my husband ignores me. It’s funny because it’s ironic.

BlogHer? Really and actually is a big deal on the Internet. It’s impressive because it’s true.

Now, my point here is not to say that one is better than the other. I happen to really, really dig My Crowd. You guys rock my socks and have made the last two years of my life - offline as much as on - more rich and dynamic than I could have ever imagined. I’ve moved to a new state and fulfilled lifelong dreams because of this here blog and this here group of people.

My point is to say that I’m going to be going to BlogHer 09 in Chicago this summer and I’m kind of (read: totally and completely) crapping my pants at the idea of having to go meet thousands of bloggers who I’ve only watched from afar and never really interacted with and HELLO! I’M GOING TO BE THE LOSER IN THE CORNER WHO DOESN’T KNOW ANYONE!

{Insert breakdown here}

I’m not afraid of meeting people from the Internet. I hopped on a plane and flew 1400 miles all by myself to meet some pervy Internet guy who said he wanted to give me money. I’ve opened my home and exposed my family to bloggers on more than one occasion. I am not afraid of the Internet.

I am, however, seriously unnerved at the idea of going to a conference with thousands of people and being completely alone.

I tell you all that to tell you this:

I have already started making my list of people I’m going to accost at BlogHer, fully prepared to deal with the fact that they will not know me and not care because HOLY CRAP YOU ARE SO AWESOME AND WILL YOU SIGN MY NAME BADGE FOR ME!??!

I’m terrified. I’m planning to go anyway. And I might as well make the most of it by adding a few stalking charges to my rap sheet.

Here’s what I’ve got so far…

Miss Britt’s List Of People She May Be Able To Use A Fake Name With When She Is Asked To Please Stop Humping Their Leg:

Queen of Spain - or Erin, as I will call her in an attempt to trick her into thinking she knows me. Remember how excited I was about my media pass? Well she gets real ones to actual events like the Democratic National Convention. (She also, incidentally, told me how to get mine.)

Suebob - with any luck, I will end up in a picture holding a red stapler. The caption will probably read “Avitable with Red Stapler”, but you’ll know it’s me.

Dooce - dude, I know. We’re supposed to hate her. I know. We’re the rebel group of the blogosphere that is soooo above being Dooce fans. And I was right. there. with you. Truly. I just started reading to see what all the fuss was about! And, well, I’m not going to get I Heart Heather on my ass or anything - but her stuff is actually… funny. I know. Don’t you judge me.

Mocha Momma - truth be told I will probably not try to hump her. I have a feeling she could kick my ass. I am not ruling out the possibility of bumping into her in a hallway “on accident”.

Susan of 5 Minutes for Mom - or maybe it was Janice of 5 Minutes for Mom. Shit. Whichever. Anissa tells me they are wonderful. And Anissa knows everything.

PunditMom - or Goddess of All Things Liberal. I think she’d be recognized with either pseudonym.

Also thinking of ways to take pictures with Moosh, Sarah and the Goon Squad, CityMama and Mr. Lady. Consider telling them I’m with the press…

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Today’s guest posts from The Guest Post Challenge can be seen at: Midnight Cliff and Shiny’s Takeout

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In addition to mounds of steaming poo, I also have The Perfect Song for just about any occasion. Including and especially such occasion as would warrant the removal of pants. I’m pretty much an expert in Songs That Make You Wanna Do It.

And I never use the term Do It. I promise.

But if I were to use the term Do It, then I would say with absolute authority that some songs were made specifically for the purpose of encouraging people to do just that. It, I mean. Songs that were made to make you Do It. Heh heh. (OK, really. Hand to God, I’m done now.)

TOP 9 SONGS THAT MAKE YOU SEXIEST SONGS ACCORDING TO MISS BRITT*

*who is awesome and all knowing**
** about these kinds of things

9. I’ll Make Love To You - Boys II Men

Hey, don’t snicker. I remember a time when Boys II Men was the hottest think since pink slap bracelets. And even if my accessories have since grown up, this song is still blatantly sexy.

8. Bed Of Roses - Bon Jovi

I think what gets me about this song is Jon’s willingness to sleep “on a bed of nails” - while I’m laid out like a princess on a bed of roses. That probably says something about me.

7. At Last - Etta James

This is the song I listen to in the dark. In the bathtub. With bubbles. And I imagine I am a big, black curvy woman on a stage with an amazingly sexy voice that can stretch two syllables into a lifetime of romantic angst.

6. Untitled (How Does It Feel - D’Angelo

The man does the video naked and tattooed. And does this weird-and-yet-hot biting thing with his lip. The song isn’t bad either.

5. When A Man Loves A Woman - Percy Sledge

I first heard this song done by Michael Bolton, but Percy Sledge’s version is much more sincere and primal and, therefore, sexier.

4. U Make Me Wanna - Usher

I should just list “Anything from Usher”, because Good Lord that boy is sensual. This particular song was actually considered one of “our songs” between my husband and I when we were teenagers. Because yes, we are that corny.

3. Closer - Nine Inch Nails

I think I was 25 before I found out this song was not titled “I wanna f$%* you like an animal”. I still contend that it should be.

2. Let’s Get It On - Marvin Gaye

This song would be a hundred times sexier if I didn’t remember my parents shimmying around the living room to it when I was a kid. And yet, somehow, that’s part of the appeal.

1. Satisfied - Prince

I heard this song from Prince’s 3121 album for the first time when I saw Prince in Vegas in March of 2007. It was in that moment that I understood why young female groupies throw their panties on stages.

You can here it by going here and clicking “Satisfied” from the list. But you should really be alone when you do. For the sake of decency.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a melody to put on repeat…

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