Date Night in Arlington: $10 Rangers Tickets June 10th

Baseball season is in full swing (ha!), and everyone knows how much us Texas gals love a good Rangers game.

There is a special offer on tickets to the Wednesday, June 10th, Rangers vs. Marlins game at Globe Life Park (Rangers Stadium to anyone over the age of 20). Go to the Rangers' official MLB website, and use the coupon code SUMMER to get Upper Reserved section tickets for $10 each. It's a savings of $9 a ticket.

Get your Rangers gear on, grab a ballpark hotdog (microbes be damned), and cheer your heart out.

Going to the Beach on the Cheap: Port Aransas, TX

 Ready to body surf?

Have you ever just wanted to pick up and go to the beach? I love going to the beach, and not just because I have some secret desire to be a permanent beach bum. I am one of those bizarre people with an insatiable need to be near the ocean on a regular basis. Some people love the mountains; they get a thrill from skiing and snowboarding and sitting in front of the fire with a cup of hot cocoa at the ski lodge. I yearn for jungle-lined white sand beaches, surfing, snorkling, and the sounds of waves and seagulls. I got my scuba certification before I got my driver's license. I sailed from Massachusetts to Maine in a schooner when I was 16. I have camped along the Texas coast, got the crap pinched out of me by a rather pissed off crab while I was poking around a tidal pool, and even seen a tiger shark alongside our boat on a whale watching excursion. You get the idea.

So how does one go to the beach on a budget? Easy peasy. Seriously.

I started by locating the nearest ocean within driving distance--the Gulf of Mexico. Then I eliminated all of the cities that I find gross: Galveston, Padre Island, etc. I know I know, this is where the hate mail rolls in, but really, Galveston, clean up your act. My travel companion had never even seen the ocean before (seriously) and even he knew which cities to avoid.

Anyway, that pretty much left Port Aransas out on Mustang Island, which is a nice spot, and I proceeded to build a three-day trip for two at $400 per person. Oh no! I mentioned money! How crass, how gauche, how very middle class of me. Be advised, I have had my fill of budget travel blogs and how-I-quit-my-job-to-travel blogs and adventure blogs that prefer to allude to money instead of actually mentioning specific figures. How is anyone supposed to work with that?

Anyway, let's start with a few travel ground rules:

1. Stop Spending Money on Stupid Stuff

People ask me how I am able to take so many trips each year. I don't have an amazing, high paying job. I make less than fifty grand a year right now, and I have student loans and bills just like everyone else. The answer is that I make travel a priority. I decided a few years ago that there are not many things in life that make me happier than traveling, and when something is that important to you, you find a way to make it happen. Let's say you put away a minimum of $10 a week. In a year, you would have $520. That's enough to buy a surf lessons and a plane ticket to San Diego. Think of how much you could save if you packed your lunch instead of went out every day, or if you didn't buy Starbucks for two weeks each month. Heck, if you did both you could probably afford a trip to Paris next year. I'll make it even easier: don't spend change or fives. Get a jar and fill 'er up.

2. Know When to Travel

Keep in mind that traveling in the off season is a great way to get the best deals. In the case of Port Aransas, late April right after Sand Fest or early September are perfect. Let's be honest, in Texas it is still hot in September. Sand Fest, the annual festival where artists create gigantic sand sculptures on the beach, is absolutely amazing, but I was traveling on an extremely tight budget. Room rates during Sand Fest are at least fifty dollars more per night.

3. Hotel Chains Do Not Always Have the Best Rates

I had three qualifications for the hotel--I wanted a clean room right on the beach for less than $100 a night. Impossible! Outrageous! Not really. I floated around online, I read reviews, I compared rates, I asked friends and family members, and I came up with a few options. Since I wanted somewhere a bit better than a Motel 6, that left four beach lodges all within three blocks of the beach. The first two were booked. C'est la vie. The third was weird. You couldn't make reservations online, so I called...and called...and called. In three days, no one had picked up the phone once. That left one very special place that was, according to the rather brusque woman who answered the phone, "one block from the ocean." Her attitude had me worried, but the reviews looked good and they actually picked up the phone...

4. Be Generous with Your Budget

Remember your budget is a plan, not a limitation. Know where you want to go, where you want to stay, how much it costs to get there, how much food will be, and how much you want to spend on entertainment. Also, I always pad my budget a little in case the unexpected occurs. In the case of this trip, the unexpected happened to be the driver thinking they knew better than the GPS. Account for sudden weather, car breakdowns, and human error. Plan for the worst but hope for the best. 

The bad news: my travel partner and I initially ended up in Galveston, 209 miles from Port Aransas. Annoying, yes, but fixable. Four hours later, we were pulling into the sandy parking lot at The Beach Lodge. Listen. To. Your. GPS.

The good news: everything else.

The beach is right there. Look at it. It's right there.

The Beach Lodge was not "one block" from the ocean as the receptionist led me to believe. It was on the beach. As in sand dunes on either side, and you can see the water from the bar. That's what I'm talking about. The lodge itself has a sort of weathered charm--colorful chairs, kitschy bar décor, and lots of beach bums. The rooms are very minimalistic. For $85 a night (including tax) you get a bed, a TV, air conditioning, a bathroom with a shower, and a sink. No bureau, no closet. We lived out of our duffel bags for two nights and three days and didn't mind at all. The light in the bathroom was out and never got fixed (wiring trouble, according to the owner), but the room was clean and the air conditioning worked. At the end of a few hot, sandy days on the beach that's all we cared about.

My favorite part of The Beach Lodge was the bar. It's not your typical beach bar where the sole purpose is to get a drink. All business at the lodge is done there. From checking in to ordering meals to getting fresh towels, you go see the guys and gals behind the bar. They might take their time; they might not be the smiley, customer-centric employees you're used to at hotels, but you'll get what you need. Eventually. You might even catch the owner over his morning cup o' joe. He maintains the lodge himself, but is usually willing to stay and talk awhile after his first cup. I loved ordering breakfast or a burger at the bar, then grabbing a table on the covered balcony to watch the water. Very peaceful.

The guys sitting around the bar at breakfast.

In fact, the whole weekend was peaceful. We wandered the little island checking out souvenir shops, tiny restaurants, and I even booked a seashell massage at The Balinese Wellness Spa & Yoga Retreat. If you haven't tried it, you should. It's like a hot stone massage, but the seashells have a different texture that exfoliates your skin. Love! The spa is clean and beautiful, and the ladies have somehow eradicated the ever-present white sand that gets tracked onto every surface. I want to go back for yoga and try the cucumber fig salt scrub.

The beaches are lovely, and the waves were just perfect for body surfing. After months and months of working hard, we started to unwind. We built sand castles and sand armchairs (so comfy), went body surfing, sipped a few homemade cocktails, and snacked on ice cream and junk food like teenagers. For three days we ignored our phones and didn't care about anything.

It's always difficult leaving a vacation spot. We made wild plans to buy a beach house to rent out to tourists, quit our jobs and set up shop on the beach--the usual--but in the end we had to load up the car and head back to the city. However, we made a pact that this would be our regular getaway spot. The next time we could get time away from work, we would come here.

Wish List for Next Time

Rent a golf cart and zip around

Boogie boards for body surfing

Yoga and a salt scrub at the spa

Better sand castle building equipment

Stay up late to see the crabs come out of the dunes

More ice cream

 Sunset at the beach

 Sleepy kitties

 Yay!

 My entry for next year's Sand Fest. I think it needs more work.

 Rawr! Souvenirs!

 Admit it. These chairs are adorable.

 Quiero cerveza.

...

Free Dallas: June Sunset Screening of Spaceballs

Spaceballs, 1987, Courtesy Metro Goldwyn Mayer 



Heads up, ya'll!

The AT&T Performing Arts Center and Dallas Film Society has put together a free screening of the eternal Mel Brooks classic Spaceballs. The initial showing was cancelled due to "inclement weather", otherwise known as an incoming tornado, and has happily been rescheduled for Saturday, June 14th, in Strauss Square outside of the Winspear Opera House. Nerdgasm!

For those of you who don't know (your childhoods were clearly bleak and joyless), Spaceballs is Mel Brooks' hilarious take on Star Wars. The evil leader of the Spaceballs, President Skroob, enlists Lord Dark Helmet to steal Planet Druidia's air supply to replenish their own. Only accidental hero Lone Starr can stop them.

This event is completely free, and is a perfect date night/girls' night/guys' night/whatever just go. Put together a picnic dinner or stop at one of the many food trucks that are sure to line the street by Klyde Warren Park.

Check out AT&T Performing Arts Center's website or click on the link to be taken directly to the RSVP page. Calling 1-800-DRUIDIA does not work. I tried.

May the Schwartz be with you!

Boston's Blue Oasis Gets a Makeover

Beantown from the Boston Harbor

Boston--with its bagels, fresh seafood, and epic pub crawls--is my favorite town. I've gone every year since I was but a wee nipper. It's my home away from home. It's there that I was first terrified by a dinosaur and dazzled by lightning, ate massive amounts of "lobstah" and Dairy Joy, and saw my first whale. I've even mastered its subway system, which can be a little daunting. I know every stop leading to my favorite spot--the New England Aquarium.

The Giant Ocean Tank courtesy of the New England Aquarium. Photo credit: W. Chappell

The Aquarium will always have a place in my heart, and on my last trip just a few short months ago, I learned that the main tank had recently undergone a massive renovation. The Giant Ocean Tank has been the stunning centerpiece of the New England Aquarium for as long as I can remember--a column of blue reaching from the ground floor to the very top. Of course, I had to go see.

It's best to buy tickets online. Since the renovation, the Aquarium has been drawing in quite a number of visitors, so it's better to plan ahead.

Walking into the blue gloom of the Aquarium, it was obvious a lot had been done to the Giant Ocean Tank. I said a quick hello to the penguins on the ground floor and continued up to the main tank. All of the windows had been replaced, eliminating the glare I remembered from the old windows, and the coral reef had been replaced. The tank looked better than ever.

That's not me. Wouldn't that be cool?

The Aquarium is designed so that visitors may wander its three levels via a series of ramps. Visitors may see the many exhibits along the way and check out which fish are hanging out near the surface of the Giant Ocean Tank. Sea turtles glide among the almost 130 species of fish, including sting rays and puffer fish. There's always somewhere to look, something to see.

That is me. I do cool stuff. You should, too.

Head downstairs for the jellyfish exhibit and the touch tanks. Not that you'll be touching jellyfish. Little rays, yes. Jellyfish, no. Why would you want to do that? It's an aquarium, not "Fear Factor". The jelly exhibit is well worth a look, though. You'll lose track of time watching moon jellyfish floating in a lazy, hypnotic loop. Keep your eyes peeled downstairs and in each of the exhibits upstairs. From electric eels to baby seahorses, you won't want to miss a thing. I even discovered something new, and I can't count the number of times I've been there. On my last trip, I just realized you can watch the staff train sea lions out back. I couldn't believe I had been missing that all these years.

Babies!

Pictures don't do it justice, neither does video. It's an experience, and that means there's nothing else that can replace actually being there. My parents took me when I was little to educate me and it instilled a sense of wonder. I think that's why I keep going back. It's my blue mecca. People talk about a "childlike sense of wonder," and the phrase never really makes sense to me unless I'm there. I watch sea turtles fly, and I'm quiet. There's no world, no screaming children in strollers, no bills, nothing else except the Giant Ocean and me.

I think we need more of that quiet in our lives.

California sea lion pups Zoe and Sierra. Photo courtesy of the New England Aquarium. Photo credit: K. Ellenbogen.

How Wonderful to be Free: The Dallas Museum of Art

Photo Courtesy of Dallas Museum of Art

I love Sundays, don't you? Savoring the last sweet drops of weekend freedom by sleeping in and generally having a lovely lazy day before the toils of the work week truly begin. I love going on long walks on Sundays. Maybe that doesn't sound very lazy, but I feel very relaxed when I do it. There's no set pace, no route, just me and my headphones wandering the neighborhood in the sunshine. 

A couple of Sundays ago, I felt unusually motivated to take my walk somewhere new, so I decided to head over to the Dallas Museum of Art to lose myself for a few glorious hours among the great artists of the world. I hadn't been to the museum in a few years, and I have heard rumors of new and wonderful things. 

I didn't have to wait long to find out what has been happening at my old stomping ground. I handed my credit card to the lady at the front desk to pay for my ticket only to find she wouldn't take it. 

"General admission is free," she said.

Free? What does this word mean? 

"Free?"

"Yes, ma'am. Free."

"As in I don't have to pay?"

"No."

"Free?"

This went on for quite some time. In case you haven't already figured it out, general admission to the museum is free. Special exhibitions are still subject to admission fees, but the entire rest of the museum is free. Let that sink in for a moment. Nothing in Dallas is free. Nothing. 

Feeling like I had stepped into a magical alternate dimension, I was then led to a small kiosk by a very nice lady in a red jacket who told me I could earn free stuff by signing up for the DMA Friends program. I automatically declined, as I do for all so-called rewards programs, but she insisted I would not regret it. She entered in all of my information, and then started describing the points and badges part of the program. 

Photo courtesy of the Dallas Museum of Art

Small red badges with codes can be found throughout the museum, and you earn points by entering the codes into the DMA Friends kiosk computer. My first visit, I earned 10% off the museum cafe and a free book on Vincent van Gogh from the gift shop. That's kind of the most basic reward, though. You can earn everything from a free special exhibition ticket to a tour of the DMA's art storage facilities to a pass to join the Overnight at the Museum slumber party. I don't know about you, but I want that slumber party pass. 

I had to be physically pulled away from the kiosk so that I could do what I actually came to do in the first place--see the art. 

Oh right, yeah, I forgot about the art. 

Walking through the museum takes hours. I was there for three before being kicked out for closing time, and I still did not see everything. It's designed to be a great place for walking, for being lost in thought. There's no physical interruption except to pass from one era to another. You lose track of time and location and become completely immersed in the experience. I saw my old favorites: Frederic Edwin Church's The Icebergs, Andrew Wyeth's That Gentleman, and Nicolas Mignard's painting of Faustulus bringing Romulus and Remus to his wife. 

While wandering from room to room, I couldn't help but think that this is the way art should be. Art should be free and accessible to the public. Money shouldn't stand in the way of the sheer emotional outpouring that comes from being struck dumb, dwarfed by The Icebergs, in awe of what is in front of you. It doesn't even have to be that particular painting. Everyone has one piece of art that speaks to them, and finding it shouldn't be contingent upon the ability to pay.

A very hearty "bravo!" to the Dallas Museum of Art. 

Photo courtesy of the Dallas Museum of Art

The Wanderlust Festival

Photo taken at Wanderlust Austin

I was drifting around on the Austin events page a few weeks ago when I stumbled upon something called Wanderlust.  It's is a three-day yoga and music bonanza (yes, bonanza) that travels all over the world, and it sounded way too interesting to pass up. I run and practice yoga regularly, but lately I have been feeling like I'm in a bit of a workout rut. Like most normal, average, everyday humans I get bored with my workouts. Especially gym workouts. Elliptical, free wights, treadmill, stationary bike, stair step machine, rinse and repeat. Over and over again. Oh, how bored I get! Can I get an Amen? Heck, I'll give myself an Amen for that.

AMEN!

Why do we do it? Why do we keep pushing ourselves to do something that we hate? Physical benefits, of course--lower risk of heart disease and diabetes, the all-too-impressive ability to take the stairs out of the subway, and (let's be honest) perhaps a trimmer figure. Aren't we forgetting something, though? Oh right, that gray squishy thing that lives in our heads. What was his name again? B-something. Hmm. 

What's the deal? You know who sticks with things that are boring? Nobody, that's who. I don't know about you, but I need some mental stimulation up in here. Enter the Wanderlust Festival.

I bought my one day only pass (three days of yoga would be insane), and set about trying to figure out the rest of the trip expenses. A friend of mine lives in Austin and invited me to stay with her. Turns out, she recently got her yoga teaching certification and would also be attending Wanderlust, but when I told her about my driving plans she brushed them off.

"Just take the Megabus."

Megabus? I did a quick Google search and instantly regretted how much I had spent in gas over the years driving around Texas. An international bus service with hundreds of stops to choose from, I found I could go from Dallas to Austin and back for $37. Holy yoga pants, Batman. I packed my bags, climbed aboard the blue double-decker Megabus, and was on my way.

A couple of points about Megabus: free wifi, comfy seats, power outlets, restroom, and express service (we got to Austin in three hours flat). The driver also asked everyone to turn their phones on silent or vibrate as a courtesy to other passengers. There were the inevitable rude rebels of the group, but what can you expect? One caveat: bring your own movies. The wifi is free, but it's way too slow for Netflix or Hulu.

Passion flower in Austin's Hyde Park

So let's talk yoga; I'm weird about it. Yoga is so much more than the physical practice. You could spend a lifetime studying and exploring both the mental and physical elements and you would still not know everything. Unfortunately, I am only interested in the physical practice. I have a tendency to close my ears at the first mention of "heart rhythms" and go, "La, la, la, la!" I don't want to chant, I don't want to use the egg shakers, and I don't want to talk about my chakras. The fact that the people who usually talk about that kind of stuff also appear to share the same disdain for eating meat as they do for good personal hygiene doesn't help their case. My dear friends excepted. I really do listen, but I'm not into it. Maybe I'll be more interested in the spiritual side in ten or twenty years, but for now I just want to get moving. 

That being said, I slept through my first class. Sorry. I went out to Drink. Well. for girls' night and stayed out way too late. The second class however, Kula Flow with Schuyler (pronounced "Skyler") Grant, thoroughly kicked my butt. I've never tried the Kula style before, which made it the perfect class to wake me up from my workout coma. Super powerful poses melting into deep stretches, all on the rooftop of Brazos Hall in downtown Austin. Schuyler doesn't demonstrate any of the moves, preferring to give precise instructions, and in doing so she forces you to take responsibility for your body. The whole class I wasn't focused on anything except my body and what it was doing. If something didn't feel right, I wiggled around until it did. Making yoga work for your own body. What a concept!  I left feeling like a wet noodle and vaguely dreamy. I had been so focused on what I was doing for the past ninety minutes that I needed a moment to adjust to reality. Looking at my watch--oh, crap! I had to get to my next class. 

Getting ready for Kula Flow on the rooftop of Brazos Hall

Turns out, I shouldn't have bothered. I chose what I thought would be a familiar style of yoga--Vinyasa with Shiva Rea--for my last class of the day, and it was a total bust. Chanting? Egg shakers? "We're leaving our egos behind!" No. These are my yoga phobias. I bit my tongue and stuck with it, praying we would get to sun salutations fairly soon. Standing at the back of a crowded, hot room being led by an instructor I couldn't see who merely barked out the names of poses was frustrating to say the least. The final straw came when she stopped the session to ask everyone to move so that her brother could place his mat at the very front because "he couldn't see." At that point, I decided to take my ego and leave. 

Mac n' Cheese BLT from the Whole Foods food truck

Ok, so you can see from that yum-azing photo what I did next. After two hours of yoga, I was hungry, and the Whole Foods food truck was parked right outside. I breezed past the stands selling overpriced beads and organic soaps, marched up to the food truck and ordered the Panko-crusted mac n' cheese BLT. Delicious, but not something you want to eat in front of other people. One bite and the whole shebang just falls apart. I felt completely unattractive picking stray macaroni off my yoga pants until I realized the ninety pound girl on the curb next to me had wolfed down her entire banh mi before I had even started on the second half of my sandwich. That's the thing about Wanderlust--no one cares what you look like, and it's oddly freeing.

Even so, it was with mixed feelings that my friends and I sat down with Schuyler Grant at the nearby Houndstooth Coffee shop to talk some yoga, but I was pleasantly surprised to learn that her yoga B.S. meter was almost as finely tuned as my own. 

"I think 'Yoga and' anything is retarded," she said, "but don't tell anyone that." 

Oops. Forget what you have seen... She's referring to the new idea of pairing yoga with unlike things: yoga and music, yoga and golf, yoga and etc. Yeah, it seems like forcing yoga to be more accessible to me. She also (yay!) hates yoga competitions. 

"That's not what yoga is about!"

Yoga competitions originated in India as a way of advertising so that yogis could build their practices, but it has become more of a spectacle in America. She does acknowledge that, much like the yoga competitions, Wanderlust is trying to cast a wider net. Yes, they have corporate sponsors; yes, they attract well-known yogis like Seane Corn to teach classes, but she insists the festival is more about bringing people into the practice of yoga than anything else. 

"Everyone should try to find that mind-body practice. Have a relationship with your breath. I don't care what you do to get there, just find that connection." She laughs and shrugs. "I guess I'm less of a purist now."

I like that idea. Any athlete will tell you how important it is to know how to breathe. I don't care if you run, lift weights, swim, do yoga, play tennis, anything. Breath is a key part of what you are doing. As a runner, my breath is a focal point of my activity, and I actually understand what she means by engaging in a "mind-body practice." There have been times right after a run that I suddenly noticed not only my breath but the inflation of my lungs. I've stood there, feeling my ribs expanding with my breath, and thought, "I'm alive." 

I didn't sleep on the ride home. I watched Texas go by and thought about everything Schuyler said. I felt relaxed but awake. Actually, more than awake. I felt like I had jump-started my brain, which was exactly what I had been looking for the whole time. Why not keep exploring? Strive to challenge your brain and body simultaneously every day. Do something new. If you're a runner, sign up for a yoga class. If you're a swimmer, see what it's like on dry land. If your shin splints are back, try some aerial silks. Make your workout your practice. Take responsibility for your body, and make your practice work for you.

~Namaste~

Acro-Yoga at Wanderlust Austin

Aerial Yoga at Wanderlust Austin

Alter Ego

View from the top of the Castle of the Moors, Sintra, Portugal

I am a traveler, an adventurer, a runner, a do-er; full of curiosity and an unquenchable need to see everything there is to see. Born with a restless spirit, I have been to Portugal and Paris, sailed the coast of Maine in a schooner, driven to Montana and Cape Cod, and even hiked the jungles of Grenada. I dream of faraway lands, thunderous mountain ranges, dark jungles, and expansive deserts. My list of places to go grows daily: Thailand, Milan, Costa Rica, Australia...

Unfortunately, my fantasy has also been burdened with an over-abundance of reality. Mostly in the form of bills. I live in the real world, I went to college, I have a lot of bills. Kind of like everyone else. So here's the question:

How do I live both the life of mild-mannered desk jockey and girl adventurer extraordinaire?

The usual responsibilities are never going to go away--rent, insurance, electricity, loans (well, those will go away eventually...thirty or forty years from now)--but I should be able to make this work. I mean, why not? Sure, I'd like to jet off to a new exotic location every week, but I'm not Fergie. Few people are. I figure it's all a matter of making the dream fit the reality.

So here's the plan: two big vacations a year, and plenty of small road trips and local adventures in between to keep the wanderlust at bay. That's doable. Heck, it's downright reasonable. There's so much to do here, too, if you just take a look around. I already have a few local ideas, and I can't wait to get started.

Just a Few Ideas

• Perot Museum

• Amon Carter Museum

• Dallas Arboretum

• Turtle Creek

• Winspear Opera House
  
  
• Ten Acre Observatory

• Fort Worth Water Gardens

• Car Shows

• Air Shows

• Fort Worth Zoo

• Dallas by Chocolate