3 reasons why I'm not travelling solo

A question I get asked a lot, is why I chose to travel 6 months through South America with a travel company rather than alone - especially when I speak a proficient level of Spanish. Especially since after all - yes, it's more my travel style, and yes, it would have worked out cheaper. Here's 3 reasons why I'm not travelling solo.

1. Travelling is like any other addiction, sometimes you need to put the structures in place to keep yourself from overdosing and going broke.
   I love travelling so much, that had I gone by myself with the freedom to go at my own pace - I'dmost likely never leave. I need the discipline and structure of a planned itinerary to force me to pack my things and move on, from one city to the next. A pre-paid, mostly non-refundable cost structure also helps keep one from getting cold feet or jumping ship midway.
    
2. Lack of time, or maybe bad timing.
   The timing of my travel epiphany (that there was no better time than then to go now), didn't leave me enough any time to research, book and plan ahead far enough to ensure that point no. 1 didn't happen.
   
   During this time I was still working full-time, commuting up to 3 hours per day, and my Visa applications were causing enough stress and trouble in themselves.
   
   From experience, given the amount of man hours I put into my boyfriend and I's weeklong getaway to Vietnam and Cambodia  - I would have needed to quit my job a few weeks in advance so I could read every review, compare every hostel, analyse the pros and cons of every travel option to and from every city, compile a spreadsheet of plan A's and plan B's… you get the point.
    
3. I have things to come back for.
   People travel for different reasons. To "find myself" has never been one of them. The only thing better than having a strong sense of self-identity - is being content with it. As a result, I have nothing to "run away" from. Rather - I have reasons to come back to: my family, my friends, a debt of kisses owing to my loving boyfriend (hai bf!), plus a career in an exciting industry to resume.

So there you go. I thought it would be fun to go back through my Instagram and go through the last pictures I posted with some of my favourite people before having left.

Love, Noeline
xox

The last 'gram of my bf and I before leaving for South America. Yes, it's been tough being apart. But we've made it work!

Last 'gram before leaving with my fierce, strong, independent ladies. Sorry for the grains. It was dark and we were in a nightclub.

Last 'gram before leaving with my family and I at my quarter century birthday. Half-half birthday cakes rule.

Overthink and underachieve

Compare yourself to the right people and you can find ways to make yourself feel like both an underachiever and overachieve.

I find it flattering when people think I've achieved a lot for my age. But their compliment gets swept up in my thoughts of other people. People my age with careers earning close to six digits. People with houses and cars and actual independence. People with jobs chasing after them while I beg to get free work experience.

Then there's other people way older than me, still trying to figure out what makes them happy.

The question we should all be asking ourselves is whether or not we feel like we've done okay given our own personal circumstances. Only then we can finally start to give ourselves credit, or at least confront us into reevaluation.

Customer Service Rep or Verbal Punching Bag?

Ughhhhh. Customers would be better off filing formal complaints than taking it out on part-time and casual sales staff. I mean, how much sway do you honestly think we have? There's different departments for a reason. I'm sure you work for an organisation where you don't control everything either. But I guess you do it for the verbal punching bag aspect. Believe it or not we're human too. I'm sorry some of your phone calls get directed overseas. No need to get racist about it either. It wasn't my idea. Promise.

Have a nice day (because you've ruined mine).

Work + Save = Travel

"i just have the feeling your gonna b australia = work, save money ... travel for a year... come back work save .. travel"
- My best friend

Worldaholic

I'm having such a great time I don't want it to stop. I just want to learn new languages, live everywhere, eat local delicacies and travel forever. Is that so much to ask?

The world is so big I struggle to understand why other people don't want to go out and see it too. It's like being given a whole box of chocolates and being content with only eating one - if that.

I don't want to be tied down by a full time job, working overtime for a boss who will probably make me hate the industry I am supposed to love. I don't ever want to enter the real world.

And then I think, what if I'm the one in the real world? And that other one, the one where you work your ass off making someone else rich, the one where you all you care about is making a profit from people who can't afford your products and services, and doing it better than the competition - what if that one's the fake world?

And then I realise it doesn't matter what I think. Because even if it's true, you have to work your ass off in the fake world to fund your time in the real world.

So until I receive a phone call telling me a royal relative I never knew I had has just died and left me all their riches, there's nothing I can do but make the most of my time here.

In the last week I've booked tickets to the Greek Islands, Ireland and Ibiza :)))))

Love, Noeline
xox

Just let me put my dick on

I've been working on the retail side of a telecommunications company for about five months now.

After having worked in clothing for so long, I started this job feeling positive and up for a new challenge. I've come from talking about brands, materials, fits and accessories to megabits, megapixels and gigabytes. I'm getting my head around what feels like a million different computer systems.

Although I love the people I work with, a few customers are the ones making me feel like I don't belong.

I can't tell you how many times I've tried explaining company protocol, business rules and procedures to a dissatisfied male customer.

You won't believe how often they don't believe me.

You won't believe how many times I've had to 'double check' with a male colleague for their satisfaction, only to have him say the exact same thing.

You won't believe how many times their word was taken over mine.

In this day and age you're either submissive and feminine or assertive and a dike.

The next time you expect to be served by a guy, only to get served by a girl instead, understand that she is there by virtue. Understand that she went through the exact same application process as the others and was still the better person for the job. You should be admiring her, not putting her down.

For as long as there are gender biased people there will be gender based occupations.

Love, Noeline
xox

The one thing I wish 14 years of schooling had taught me, but hadn't.

And that's that in the real world it's all about quantity, not quality.

I started my second job in a retail department store when I was 15. I was doing about two to three shifts a week, in perfect sync with my school hours.

I was recommended by a friend who already worked there. I did a maths test as part of my interview and scored 100%. I figured that all the extra-curricular activities listed on my resume impressed them. After all, school said they would, and school would never teach anything that wasn't true.

I felt appreciated. I went from someone arranging the racks to a cashier, to someone training the newbies, handling the cash flow and lay-by (sometimes the latter three at the same time). I had been at the company for two years, and my 18th birthday was coming round the mountain.

And that's exactly the point where my shifts were suddenly reduced to a single four hour shift every two weeks. It was like a plague that affected all of the almost 18 year olds. We soon noticed a bunch of newbies strutting their stuff into the staff room. While they were trying to be our friends, all we were thinking was "What the hell are you doing here?". We were fighting for shifts enough as it was.

Then we were informed of a new rule where you could only swap shifts with people your own age - or younger so as not to mess up the manager's budget on salaries.

You know those awkward situations with friends where you suddenly realise that they never really ever liked you, and it's humiliating because you thought so highly of them? Well, it was like that. The sudden influx of new, noticeably younger staff was the company's way of saying "Thanks for everything but we don't need you anymore. You're just too expensive. And it's because of your experience that we'll let you hang around just long enough to train the new people before wiping your name off our records." I guess it's kind of like how women feel when their husbands leave them for a young, ditsy slut with big boobs.

I immediately went for a Christmas casual job at another retail store. It was a relief to find a store that didn't think I was already due for retirement. I was getting about four shifts a week, more than the other Christmas casuals, two of whom were my friends. So I figured I must have been doing something right. That was, until I got the chicken pox. By the time I got better I didn't get any shifts. Sure it was a Christmas casual job, but was it so hard for them to tell me that I wasn't needed anymore than have me come in every week to check the roster? Walking out of the store empty handed was like the walk of shame when contestants are booted off a show, except this time you didn't know whether you were out or not.

I'm currently at another retail job that isn't age-ist. But we're sent home early during quiet days - which I guess is kind of understandable if you live 5 minutes away, and frustrating when you live 45 minutes away by train, up to 2 hours if there's track work - and that's not including the 45 minutes walk to and/or from the train station, or the 40 minute wait for the next bus that goes to your area.

A friend of mine works at a place where the staff are treated like walking dollar signs - and not like actual human beings with feelings. The manager will assign manual jobs that I doubt even superman could finish within the time the staff are given. The manager will say "Good job keep it up!" to my friend's face - and "Fuck he's slow, as if he hasn't had long enough to do those tasks" to another coworker. My friend's manager will also shave as much hours, commissions and bonuses off his employees' time sheets without it being noticeable, unless they closely scrutinised it. This same manager will also yell at casuals over the phone when they can't come into work. "Do you know what it means to be a casual?" he will scream. For him, being a casual means waiting next to the phone every minute of the day for the rest of your life and not having anything worth living for than going to a workplace that won't include you in the roster.

If you're reading this and have stories of your own, remember: sharing is caring.

Love, Noeline.
xox