by Jordan Berardi
The Quirk: I like traveling…a lot
I seem to have these experiences when I travel which would make for the best short stories in a published book. A published book featured on the New York Times Bestseller List or Oprah’s Book Club, most likely. I love traveling. I love everything about it. Granted, I just went on my first plane last summer.
The earliest trip I can remember taking with my family was just somewhere for one of my brother’s hockey tournaments. The highway was at a complete stand still. There was ice for miles, just blanketing the entire highway. My brother hopped out of that minivan with his hockey stick and just glided along the highway with the car. I mean if YOLO is ever an appropriate term for a situation, I think that was it.
The next was to Destin, Florida. My parents like driving places. Instead of taking a plane ride of only a couple hours they choose to spend days in the car. It’s okay, I guess we have fun. Anyway, this was the first time this chick saw an ocean when I was old enough to take in the tide. We decided to stop a few miles outside of Destin and just walk on the beach before getting back in the car to finish driving. I stood still for three seconds watching the waves come at me. I fell straight forward. I don’t know why, I guess it was too much. I was soaked and couldn’t change until we made it to the condo.
My favorite trip I’ve ever taken, though, was last summer. I went to Chicago completely alone, with not one single person I knew. However, my mom flew me to Chicago, but left only minutes after I made it to my destination at Loyola University Chicago. I participated in a journalism camp and it was the best experience I’ve ever had. I knew zero people in this huge city, but was immediately welcome. I stayed in a dorm at the School of Communication in the heart of the city, only blocks from Michigan Avenue. It was the most amazing experience in the most amazing setting.
Anyway, I will pick only a few anecdotes from Chicago and be quick with them. One night, it was raining, and I mean raining, pouring, almost creating zero visibility. Me and one of the boys I met there were running from the building where we had eaten dinner to our dorm. They were only on opposite corners of the four way stop. Anyway, we sprinted across the street, halting all traffic, not even paying attention. See, in Chicago, the majority of doors are those spinning ones with little compartments that you push and it pops you out on the other side. Well, little did I know, those locked at 10:00 p.m. It was 10:03. I ran, full speed, into one of those, bounced back onto the ground. Meanwhile, the rain was drenching me, blood was pouring from my mouth and nose, and the boy I was with was calling for help. I pulled myself up and we both casually walked into the group meeting, both drenched in rain water, and a little blood too. It was worth it.
I shared my dorm room with three other girls. It was an apartment style dorm, and it was beautiful. Anyway, another night the entire group went to the top of the John Hancock building which is the second highest in Chicago. That night they were having a fireworks display on the Navy Pier. We were on the 94th floor, watching the city below us (that’s what the picture is). Me and two of my roommates, Isabelle and Anna, were just casually walking about when we see two other people at the camp with us, canoodling. See, it wouldn’t have been weird except for the fact that only a few days before they were both being rude to each other. But I guess that changed suddenly, and they were basically dating two days later.
Lastly, my latest trip was to San Antonio with staffers of the newspaper and yearbook. That was some of the most fun I’ve ever had. The plane ride there consisted of me and Hannah Bredar just having the time of our lives. To the little girl in front of us poking her finger back at us, I feel success having grabbed it. While in San Antonio too many things happened which I can’t even begin to explain without getting carried away. I will take one short moment to say room 303 (myself, Sabrina Redlingshafer, Lindsey Valdiviez, and Cecilia Butler) was easily the most fun room. Our nights were nothing but bliss.
I am asking Sabrina to help me pick one of the funniest anecdotes to explain. Needless to say, it’s way too hard. I miss the entire San Antonio experience. Anyway, I’ll say a few. Sabrina and I stayed up the latest, I think, the majority of the nights. I remember looking up from my bed and seeing Sabrina, completely stone faced, as if not a single thing was amiss, drinking water out of a coffee pot. We had run out of cups so, naturally, we decided to use a coffee pot. Not a coffee mug, a pot.
Another night Sabrina and I were the only two still awake and I was hungry so we went into our kitchen area and I got out the Munchies (the cheese kind, they’re honestly delicious). I was eating the Cheetos, the Doritos, the Sun Chips, but not the pretzels. I hate pretzels more than anything. Anyway, I asked Sabrina if she liked the pretzels, and she did. For the next hour and a half we repeated, “She like da pretzels, ya’ll” every two seconds in a southern accent. Cecilia hated us that night. I have several selfies on my phone of Sabrina with a pretzel in several different areas of her face.
I miss San Antonio immensely. Sabrina and I talk about it all too frequently, and all I want is to go back. It was like a little family. IT IS a little family.
So to say it simply, I love traveling and always seem to have unique experiences. I can’t wait until I go to Chicago again for spring break. I can’t wait until I go to Muncie, Indiana for the Ball State journalism convention this summer. Or to Chicago again for the camp this summer. I can’t wait until next fall to go to Boston the newspaper and yearbook staffs. I love it. Because it’s nice to get away from KC every once in awhile.
