This may come as a shock to some of you, but I have a history of stalking.

I was having a conversation over orange juice with one of the handful of English expats I’ve met since I moved to Buenos Aires, and the topic of sentimentality came up. It went something like this:

One week ago today I arrived in Buenos Aires, road-worn, bleary-eyed and unable to understand a single word being uttered by the dozens of people I came into contact with as I made my shambling way to my hotel.

I arrived in Buenos Aires, Argentina 2 days ago and after a solid 18 hours on various flights between Miami, Mexico City and Santiago, I was ready to crash into anything soft and bed-like I could find. My wits were a bit scrambled, and though I was conscious enough to not get taken (too much) by the taxi driver who carted me from the airport to the downtown area, I still wasn’t ready for what I would see immediately upon exiting the vehicle.

As I write this I’m on a shuttle between Columbia, Missouri and St. Louis, looking out the window, listening to Yelle and typing away on my tiny little netbook.

Most parties are about getting together with friends, eating and drinking until you’re waddling around the room, and creating new memories. But what if you’re trying to bring about change? What if you want to move forward and let go of all the things that are anchoring you to the past?

As you huff and puff your way to the peak of Mt. Kilimanjaro, step up to the edge and swivel 360 degrees in delight you think, “this is living!” No better feeling. You want to hang onto that moment, that rush, forever. And as you clamor off the plane on your home soil the following week, reality hits you, vacation is over. Not so fast. You can see like a traveler all the time.

When little kids are asked what they want to be when they grow up, they usually pick something that seems exciting or heroic. If they had their way, janitors, office clerks and yard care workers would be grossly under-represented (while we would have an abundance of astronauts, firefighters, fashion designers and Presidents of the United States).

Tipping, like pulling out chairs and tastefully wearing pantaloons, is a bit of a lost art for most people in the world.