A Case of Wanderlust

The term wanderlust is in the Classic Merriam-Webster Dictionary. It is from Germanic roots, combining the words "wandern" and "lust" (to wander and to desire). And tonight, I realized I am not the only person in the world who is struck by this phenomena.
My desire to explore the ends of the earth was unleashed two summers ago, in 2011, when I first set foot in the Euro-zone. It was my senior year graduation gift, a trip to France, Spain, and Morocco with two of my best friends, Rebecca and Bailey.
Well, now that I consider it, I suppose the real awakening of my wanderlust was in eighth grade, when I visited Los Angeles on a three day weekend for a missions trip amongst homeless people. It was exhilarating, spending time in a different city, far from my family, among tall buildings and rushing cars. I had never been to a city that size, and it was entirely amazing in every aspect. There were moments when we were in danger, but were too young to notice. It was the awakening of my wonderful desire to travel.
That seed of wanderlust was planted, and grew into a desire to visit LA again. I did, the spring of my Sophomore year of high school, to work with the homeless--adults as well as youth. It was wonderful, but I wanted more. The summer after my Junior year, I embarked upon my first adventure with my dear friend Rebecca, whom I often call Becca. We boarded an airplane to Washington, D.C. to meet with a church group who had driven from Missouri to do (you guessed it) mission work.
The trip was wonderful, even though we spent as much time waiting in the van as we did helping battered women, foreclosed families, and impoverished children.
But all this domestic travel was starting to get to me. It was time to go somewhere overseas. In the summer of 2011, there was going to be a trip to Europe, led by my favorite English Grammar teacher, Elizabeth DeArcos. Long story short, Becca and I both signed up for it, as did a few of our other friends, and we left for Paris on May 30, 2011--sans Ms. DeArcos, because she just had a baby.
We traveled, and we looked, and we sight-saw, and we were free.
We were free, but we didn't do anything dumb. That is how I define my wanderlust.
So, as I sat on the couch and watched The Learning Channel's newest show "Breaking Amish," I admired the four Amish people, and one Mennonite woman, who followed their dreams and broke off from their families (expecting the inevitable shunning) to visit the large New York City. I felt more than admiration, though. I felt respect. I was happy for them, doing exactly what I want to do. I feel a sick sense of vicarious living for them. I wished, for a second, I was Amish, and selected by TLC to go on an all-expenses paid trip to NYC to find myself, my birth parent, my future job, whatever. I just want an excuse to travel.
I don't want to sit at my desk in my room anymore, recounting trips past. I want to purchase an airplane ticket and go somewhere, and talk about my experience from that location.
I lust to wander.