I turned in my resignation today.  Anticipating it was far worse than actually telling everyone.  My work is an extension family, and one of the hardest parts of leaving Chicago.  It's not something I can easily come back to like friendships and lifestyle.  It's not that part of family you have to see and aren't quite sure how you're related to, but awe-inspiring people that challenge you and change your life.  Beautiful people that do good and change lives while humbly accepting praise.  You all make a difference, and you've changed me.

News of my leaving prompted welled-up eyes, smiles mixed with excitement and jealousy, and recommendations of where to go and friends to meet up with on the road.  I was told "I'm excited for you,
I hate you [for leaving]" all in one breath and encouraged to come back in a year.  I heard "F!#@" and was given health advice and told to send postcards.  Overall, encouragement and support.  And love.  Work love.

We're really going to be leaving. 

More and more it's feeling real and we're taking actual steps to transition from every day life in Chicago to living out of our backpacks in Central America.

Kyle and I both seemed to wake up this morning with excitement for travel pumping through our veins.  I've already spent some time walking around our apartment needlessly "practicing" carrying around our backpacks, pretending to be headed somewhere, but today I started unpacking my bag and trying on travel clothes.  Are these the right pants to be trekking through the jungles?  Why are the hips so wide and am I gonna look like some Jane of the jungle from those photos of European settlers first getting to Africa if I actually wear these pants zipped off like shorts?  Huh, it looks dumb, but wearing hiking socks undernear my hiking sandals actually seem practical and comfortable.  Crap.  Kyle just saw me.  Wide-eyed he says, "I don't care what that guy in the store said, I'm never wearing socks under my sandals."

Thoughts of safest way to carry our passports in secret pockets and whether or not we'll ever have warm showers pass through my mind while I shower.  How will I carry toiletries so they don't explode all over
my backpack when going through elevation on a bumpy bus?  Is my dad right that if we take the bus from Guatemala to Puerto Vallarta Mexico that the 10+ bus ride might have chickens?  I laugh to myself.  At

Kyle and I learned today we're flashpackers.  Uh huh, flashpackers.  We're a technology-enhanced version of backpackers in which we'll stick to the typical backpacking model (independent traveler that sticks to low-budget hostels and food sources and doesn't operate under the typical constraints of a 1 week vacation), but we'll be carrying modern-day devices to document our travels and sharing it with people.  We plan to have with us our laptop, digital camera, gps device, iPod, and who knows what else might sneak in.

Wikipedia comes up with a description that fits us pretty well: