A big thanks to Amanda Patterson of Amanda Elsewhere for contributing the following post as the January 15th Travel Instigator. Stay tuned for a feature post and Q and A from a new adventurous female traveler the 15th and 30th of every month.

First, a ditty: wear sunscreen. Baz Luhrmann was right; no other advice matters. Second, I found a mouse, dead, on the floor beneath my cubicle desk a couple weeks ago. My second thought upon this discovery was: what is this a sign of? (My first thought being, of course, to run far away and not return until long after building maintenance removed it, and also to lay upon whomever I ran into my tale of woe).

You see, I suffer from all of the common fears in some degree or another: heights, doctors, failure, clowns, that the Bachelor may not find true love. But mice terrify me the most, for reasons I can only half-heartedly explain. They’re small and fast and seem to only be seen peripherally, out of the corner of my eye, running along a wall. You know who else does that? Ghosts.

Anyway, I only had a few days to contemplate what it all could mean (Is my career dead? Am I going to die in my cubicle too? Will I ever find the courage to quit office life to travel the world?) before a startling, tragic development occurred at home. My apartment, it seems, harbored mice as well. And my cat, it seems, loved to catch them and re-gift them to me. I will spare you all of the grisly details except that after a few instances of me standing on a chair, screaming in petrified terror (alone), I decided to take control.

Google told me that to loudly direct profanities at my well-meaning animal companion was not very polite of me.  So when it happened again, sometime between midnight and 1am on a random, thankless Tuesday night, I lulled cat-and-prey as far away from my bed as possible, calmly caught the mouse in my boot, and deposited it outside.

You know what was weird about that? After all the hoopla and the panic and the overturned furniture and the crying, it all ended quietly. No one was around to high-five me, no strategically placed person with a beer on hand to toast me. That was 100% personal satisfaction.

Do you know the kind of euphoria that accompanies conquering your fears? It feels goddamn great and now I’m pretty sure I can do anything.

“What does any of this have to do with anything?” you’re wondering.

Well, it’s the middle of January, and I want to talk about your resolutions. This is a call for a resolution revolution!  Let’s call them Travelutions! The following Ten Travelutions are some of mine and they can be yours because, after all, what is the point of a New Year except to drink a lot and to earnestly try to better yourself? As travelers, and more pointedly, Girls Who Get Around, I think we’re all actively seeking this already.

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I’m certain I forgot something.  I’m 35,000 feet in the air aboard a Boeing 747 in route to Reykjavik and my thoughts become all-consumed with visions of checklists and potential horror stories.  Where’s my passport? How am getting from the airport to my hostel? Is my coat warm enough? Did I forget to pack tampons? (As if they don’t have them there.) What’s that out on the wing?

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“Before you criticize someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That way, when you criticize them, you are a mile away from them and you have their shoes” – Frieda Norris

I was left red, swollen, and disappointed that I couldn’t last the whole night. Now before you make an opinion of me, let me explain. A little while back I attended a family friend’s wedding. For the night this required me to slip out of my converse shoes, as well as my comfort zone.

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There’s only one solution for the post-escapade blues. Only one thing can evoke the nostalgic memories you crave upon your return home—souvenirs. No, you say? C’mon, we’re all a sucker for something.  I’m not exactly a traditionalist in the souvenir sense at all, so you won’t find me nagging the shopkeeper to wrap my snow globe more gently, but there’s usually something out there that tickles my fancy.

Recently, while planning a trip budget I confronted myself with the question: how much will I spend on souvenirs? I nearly dismissed the question as not applicable, but then a flood of past purchases swept over me.  It’s definitely applicable. In retrospect, I found my souvenir trends to be both enlightening and frightening.

I strongly urge you to evaluate your own souvenir soft spots.

Allow me to share with you a few of my own purchases:

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Don’t be shy. Pull up a stool, order a beer, and socialize. Locals usually don’t bite, and often have lots of good travel tips. Ask a local, and in this case, a rather drunk one!

In this Bar Tip, a local guy explains to me how to do Poutine right, and where to get it hot and delicious in Banff, Canada. If you think what I just wrote is dirty, you need to let this pleasantly buzzed local enlighten you–then go on out and get ya’self some Poutine, eh!