I was born in a Wee Wind—an old Airstream trailer about the size of a Twinkie. I don’t remember much about that, but my early memories of trailers bring back visions of tacky farm-animal curtains, chipped oak-look laminate walls, and drafty windows.
A couple of decades ago, I took a road trip and recently wrote a book about it called Nirvana, Nintendo, and Notable Detours. Over the years, I’ve taken many short road trips—a few weeks here and there, plus a couple of drives across the country—but this particular journey was a three-month trek around the U.S. with my 12-year-old son. We called it “Virtual Classroom” because he attended school part of the time from the road and shared our adventures with his classmates and teacher.
During that trip, as we packed up our tent and supplies in Jackson, Wyoming, after a very wet night in Yellowstone, I had what I can only describe as an epiphany. I remember looking at the meticulously packed cargo area of my Chevrolet Blazer and realizing that everything I needed in life was in the back of that car.
Why was that such a big revelation? Because, for a long time, I’d convinced myself I wasn’t particularly good at anything. Yet there I was, on the road with a sassy 12-year-old, and we hadn’t run into any real trouble. I’d planned the trip for 18 months, nailed the timing and budget down to the penny, and never had a financial safety net. It dawned on me that I was truly independent. I couldn’t rely on an ex-husband or wealthy relatives, and it turned out I didn’t need to. Everything that mattered was right there with me, and I had the skills to handle whatever came our way. It took until the end of that trip—and even a few years later—for it all to sink in, but that realization is my favorite part of the story.
Generally, life doesn’t give us a big slap in the face to wake up. It’s more of a slow burn—because if epiphanies hit too fast, we miss half of what’s happening. And yes, mistakes can be made; you can choose the wrong path. But the biggest lesson I learned on that road trip was to stop listening to people who (often unintentionally) hold you back. They may not even realize it. It’s just human nature to fear change in those we love. Ultimately, you have to decide what you want, not what your family or friends or even your spouse wants.
Who am I, really?
I’ve spent quite a few years in technology marketing and public relations. If it’s been done in marketing and PR, I’ve probably done it. I’ve also launched a couple of small businesses. My first was in 1984, when I designed one of the first child’s shopping cart seats. Picture me at the kitchen table sketching patterns, researching consumer labeling laws, and wrestling with retail shelf-space politics—while my 14-month-old banged spoons on pans at my feet.
But it was the ’80s, and technology was knocking. Intrigued, I sold my kid-products business and worked my way up the tech ladder, eventually becoming a VP at a speech technology company. At one point I started a public relations agency focused on tech and launched the first Silicon Valley Technical History Tour. It was exactly what it sounds like: a VIP limousine tour of all the legendary spots in the South Bay where many world-changing tech companies got their start.
Then, in 2016, I decided it was time for another adventure—this time, two years on the road. I bought a small RV, and those two years tapped into my love of art, design, basic home remodeling, and my weird fascination with drills, sanders, and the endless variety of screwdrivers.
Why did I do it? Because after decades in tech—especially technology PR—I was burnt out. It’s not that everything in PR is a lie, but there’s a lot of spin and subtle manipulation. I just couldn’t keep doing it. So in early 2014, off I went in my new RV, traveling around the USA. I’m documenting it all in my upcoming book, Travel Like A Girl, which is set to be released in summer 2025. Bear with me as I build this site; if a link doesn’t work, check back or sign up for updates, and I’ll keep you posted.
In the meantime, I’m sharing the guides I’ve put together and blogging about my thought process as I finish the book. You’ll also see photos of my DIY projects and remodels—because, believe me, I’ve got plenty of stories to tell.
So let’s get started.