After another extremely disappointing night, I have my greatest hope of getting off the base today. Now that it has become more likely that I’ll be leaving I can recall a post earlier during this deployment when I spoke about the people. The people are what make this job worth doing, not the people we save or the people back home but the people we work with. I remember talking about an age divide that kept our team from really growing close with one another and that being the reason why this deployment wasn’t the same as the other one.
The makeup of our team has changed significantly since then. I had the great honor of working with three people that I had been previously deployed with. They slowly rotated back as the others rotated to the spoke or back home. So during the final week of my time here it was like we had the dream team together again.
When asked by one of the guys whether I was excited about leaving (this was during my first attempt at leaving) and I told him “You know, sometimes I am, but other times I’m not. Honestly being out here is great, it’s like you get to hang out with your buddies all day and get paid for it.” He laughed in response.
I know now that this will definitely be my last time out. Because like a bad breakup it’s not the good times you remember during the relationship, it’s the bad ending that leaves that taste in your mouth and this break up has been pretty traumatic. Unlike Afghanistan, where I could almost come and go as I pleased, Iraq is like a clingy girl that doesn’t want to let go. Hopefully this time it will be the final chapter of this journey.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
2-Fer
Right now, given my situation, I’m a bit of a mess. Sometimes writing things down helps me to gather my thoughts and make more sense of them. My last post was more of an “I better put this in writing before I hurt someone” post, but this one will be an “I better get things into perspective” post. I’m sure if you read my blog you’re probably interested in me, so I’ll assume you have a general idea of what’s going on.
I have a need to control my situation and when I don’t feel like I have control I get extremely depressed and excessively stressed. This current situation is an example of me not having any control over what happens with my future.
My desire to control my future is only trumped by my strong aversion toward disappointing others. I hate when people go out of their way to help me and then have me turn around and fail them.
My friends went out of their way to help me in two ways. One of them planned a welcoming home party for me and invited people they realized I knew, but they didn’t know. They opened their home to complete strangers because they wanted to make a big deal of my return. I don’t remember the last time I was so excited for something.
Another friend went out of his way to put in a good word with his manager so that I’d get an interview. At first the hiring manager was going to throw my resume out of the pile because I was out of the country but was convinced not to. That manager had to go to a director to work out the logistics of getting me in for that interview.
My two worst fears, lack of control and failing others, are weighing heavily on my shoulders. I’m beginning to accept that my welcoming home party isn’t going to happen. I’ll not only have disappointed the organizers of the party, but those who were attending. The interview is just on the horizon and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get off this base so I’ll probably miss that. I’ll not only have disappointed my friend but also the manager and probably the director.
This actually turned out to be less of an “I better get things into perspective” and more an “I’m kind of depressed now” post.
I have a need to control my situation and when I don’t feel like I have control I get extremely depressed and excessively stressed. This current situation is an example of me not having any control over what happens with my future.
My desire to control my future is only trumped by my strong aversion toward disappointing others. I hate when people go out of their way to help me and then have me turn around and fail them.
My friends went out of their way to help me in two ways. One of them planned a welcoming home party for me and invited people they realized I knew, but they didn’t know. They opened their home to complete strangers because they wanted to make a big deal of my return. I don’t remember the last time I was so excited for something.
Another friend went out of his way to put in a good word with his manager so that I’d get an interview. At first the hiring manager was going to throw my resume out of the pile because I was out of the country but was convinced not to. That manager had to go to a director to work out the logistics of getting me in for that interview.
My two worst fears, lack of control and failing others, are weighing heavily on my shoulders. I’m beginning to accept that my welcoming home party isn’t going to happen. I’ll not only have disappointed the organizers of the party, but those who were attending. The interview is just on the horizon and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get off this base so I’ll probably miss that. I’ll not only have disappointed my friend but also the manager and probably the director.
This actually turned out to be less of an “I better get things into perspective” and more an “I’m kind of depressed now” post.
Plan B
Plan A, which was Plan B, is now Plan A and Plan B, which was Plan C, is now Plan B. Confused? Well at least you’re not stuck in Iraq with no idea when you’re leaving because not only does it seem like the military is working against you, so is Mother Nature. Allow me to expand on the past two days of life.
35 hours ago I woke up fully expecting to be sitting in Kuwait at this very moment waiting for my passport to return so I could go to my hotel and wait for my commercial flight out of the country. I passed on getting the military equivalent of a reservation because the flight we take is pretty empty leaving here and it’s usually not a problem to get on. Needless to say I was happy as a clam.
6 hours later I came into work to check the flights, which are released daily due to security reasons. The flight we normally take wasn’t there, the same flight that just a week ago someone took to get here! My heart sunk as I called the flight line to verify that what I was reading was correct. My hope only dwindled more after speaking with them and learning that it wasn’t a typo, but the flight really wasn’t coming. He suggested I check back later that evening to make sure nothing had changed.
11 hours ago I was driving over to the flight line to check on the flights again. To my great surprise I saw the flight I wanted to take, the golden egg! I spoke with one of the soldiers and was told to come back in 5 hours. It was the best news I had gotten so far! I was happy as a clam again.
5 hours later I sat in the terminal, listening to my iPod, so excited that things were working out. Then one of the soldiers came out to update the Weather Status, which was green. He pulled the green indicator down and put up a red indicator. My hope faded fast as he walked off. I got up and walked outside, sure enough visibility was very low. My heart sunk more.
After sitting in the terminal for 3 hours waiting for the flight, one of the soldiers walked out and gave us the worst news any of us could ever want to hear. The flight was cancelled. For the next 20 minutes I stood there, staring at the flight schedule, hoping that something would change. I was distraught, I paced around a bit and finally broke down and tried to call our site for a ride. No one answered, so to add insult to injury I walked two miles with my bags back. This helped to tire me out, otherwise I’m sure I’d have been in some sort of rage.
Now I’m sitting here, still not sure what happened, trying to figure out how to feel or what to think. I can feel the anger bubbling within me with the complete lack of control over my situation acting as a catalyst to further stoke the fire. Plan A is to attempt to get out tomorrow, but that’s a slim hope and if I do get out tomorrow getting on my scheduled flight will also be a slim hope. I need something good to happen soon.
35 hours ago I woke up fully expecting to be sitting in Kuwait at this very moment waiting for my passport to return so I could go to my hotel and wait for my commercial flight out of the country. I passed on getting the military equivalent of a reservation because the flight we take is pretty empty leaving here and it’s usually not a problem to get on. Needless to say I was happy as a clam.
6 hours later I came into work to check the flights, which are released daily due to security reasons. The flight we normally take wasn’t there, the same flight that just a week ago someone took to get here! My heart sunk as I called the flight line to verify that what I was reading was correct. My hope only dwindled more after speaking with them and learning that it wasn’t a typo, but the flight really wasn’t coming. He suggested I check back later that evening to make sure nothing had changed.
11 hours ago I was driving over to the flight line to check on the flights again. To my great surprise I saw the flight I wanted to take, the golden egg! I spoke with one of the soldiers and was told to come back in 5 hours. It was the best news I had gotten so far! I was happy as a clam again.
5 hours later I sat in the terminal, listening to my iPod, so excited that things were working out. Then one of the soldiers came out to update the Weather Status, which was green. He pulled the green indicator down and put up a red indicator. My hope faded fast as he walked off. I got up and walked outside, sure enough visibility was very low. My heart sunk more.
After sitting in the terminal for 3 hours waiting for the flight, one of the soldiers walked out and gave us the worst news any of us could ever want to hear. The flight was cancelled. For the next 20 minutes I stood there, staring at the flight schedule, hoping that something would change. I was distraught, I paced around a bit and finally broke down and tried to call our site for a ride. No one answered, so to add insult to injury I walked two miles with my bags back. This helped to tire me out, otherwise I’m sure I’d have been in some sort of rage.
Now I’m sitting here, still not sure what happened, trying to figure out how to feel or what to think. I can feel the anger bubbling within me with the complete lack of control over my situation acting as a catalyst to further stoke the fire. Plan A is to attempt to get out tomorrow, but that’s a slim hope and if I do get out tomorrow getting on my scheduled flight will also be a slim hope. I need something good to happen soon.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
I've Never Done This Before...
Unless you avoid all human contact or take about as much risk as a mouse in a zoo’s reptile house, you’ve no doubt heard the cliché “Live every day like it was your last.” Well, last night while I was lying in bed, tossing and turning, I realized something that should have been realized a long time ago. Living every day like it was your last is probably the worst idea, for me, and quite possibly a lot of others. I believe this for a number of reasons, which again, while tossing and turning I was able to elaborate on during my battle with insomnia, energy drinks and that bottle of dietary supplement.
I recall the first time I got off a C-130 in the Afghan desert during the Afghan summer. The sun’s rays beat down on the Earth’s surface like a cop on the door of a meth house. I looked out over the airfield and into the countryside in a feeble attempt to fully take in the scene. Marines, both US and UK, milled about, pulling gear from one aircraft and putting it on another. It was probably the most exciting scene I’ve ever witnessed in the short time I’ve graced this world. I was there. I was in Afghanistan, during the largest conflict in our generation.
I remember my first kiss, something more people can relate to unless you fall into either category that I started with. I remember thinking, while our faces drew closer, that I had no idea what I was doing. But it wasn’t as if that mattered, because neither did she. I won’t bore you with details, as everyone’s been there, but recall the excitement, fear and anticipation.
Think back to your first day of school. If you’re like me and were educated in public school, remember waiting for the bus for the first time. Remember your heart racing as you saw that big yellow behemoth rolling closer to your stop, your mother reassuring you that everything was going to be okay. Think about how it felt to make new friends, finding out that they lived right down the street from you, never realizing the possibility that, 25 years from then, you’d still be friends.
Think about all the firsts in your life and the excitement that accompanied it. Think about the first time you grasped the wheel of a car. Think about a first date, with anyone, and how exciting it is to learn about someone new. How about meeting someone for the first time and knowing that you’re going to marry them. Can you imagine a world where every time you met someone you gave them a new chance to make a first impression?
I don’t know about you, but I don’t have any fond memories of the last time I did anything, but I have an endless queue of firsts. Each with their own stories, and their own associated excitement, fear and anticipation. Given the choice, I’d rather wake up every morning and say to myself, “Self, this is the first day of the rest of your life…” instead of “Self, this is the last day of your life… Have fun with that…”
I recall the first time I got off a C-130 in the Afghan desert during the Afghan summer. The sun’s rays beat down on the Earth’s surface like a cop on the door of a meth house. I looked out over the airfield and into the countryside in a feeble attempt to fully take in the scene. Marines, both US and UK, milled about, pulling gear from one aircraft and putting it on another. It was probably the most exciting scene I’ve ever witnessed in the short time I’ve graced this world. I was there. I was in Afghanistan, during the largest conflict in our generation.
I remember my first kiss, something more people can relate to unless you fall into either category that I started with. I remember thinking, while our faces drew closer, that I had no idea what I was doing. But it wasn’t as if that mattered, because neither did she. I won’t bore you with details, as everyone’s been there, but recall the excitement, fear and anticipation.
Think back to your first day of school. If you’re like me and were educated in public school, remember waiting for the bus for the first time. Remember your heart racing as you saw that big yellow behemoth rolling closer to your stop, your mother reassuring you that everything was going to be okay. Think about how it felt to make new friends, finding out that they lived right down the street from you, never realizing the possibility that, 25 years from then, you’d still be friends.
Think about all the firsts in your life and the excitement that accompanied it. Think about the first time you grasped the wheel of a car. Think about a first date, with anyone, and how exciting it is to learn about someone new. How about meeting someone for the first time and knowing that you’re going to marry them. Can you imagine a world where every time you met someone you gave them a new chance to make a first impression?
I don’t know about you, but I don’t have any fond memories of the last time I did anything, but I have an endless queue of firsts. Each with their own stories, and their own associated excitement, fear and anticipation. Given the choice, I’d rather wake up every morning and say to myself, “Self, this is the first day of the rest of your life…” instead of “Self, this is the last day of your life… Have fun with that…”
Thursday, June 10, 2010
A Double Espresso Grande Fat Free Chai Latte with Whipped Cream, Extra Cinnamon, and a Drizzle of Chocolate and Caramel in a Venti Cup, Please.
I took this job a year ago because I was bored. I was bored with the normal life of working eight hours and heading home to wake up the next morning and doing it all over again. I was tired of the office politics where people, trying to achieve the same goal, argued about whether it was a customer requirement or not. I was tired of spending weekends going to the same places or trying to figure out what to do otherwise. I wanted something different, I wanted to expand my horizons and find something both challenging and entertaining. Recently, however, I’ve found it more and more difficult to keep myself either challenged or entertained.
I’ve had a habit of changing jobs very frequently in my short career. Where most people have either stayed in one position or moved once, this will have been my fourth job switch and hopefully when I get home I’ll have made my fifth. I do it because I get bored once something ceases to be a challenge and that’s when I get restless and start updating my resume. In fact, my most recent resume update was about a week ago. I’m like a 5 month old Labrador puppy, I need to be walked or else I’ll start tearing up the house.
I’m not really even sure I am cut out for the corporate world. I imagined going back to the cubical farm in some office high rise and it made me shudder. Four jobs and I haven’t found a single position that I felt was a real challenge, even dodging rockets while trying to launch an aircraft has proven boring after a year. I guess one could argue that doing what we do out here is about the same as trying to work from home with a child banging pots and pans together in another room. In the end it’s all just another distraction.
Either way, I don’t plan on doing this again. I remotely recall writing something about quitting when I reach a certain percentage of boredom and I think I’ve reached it. But again, where do I go from here?
Sometimes I regret getting my computer science degree. I don’t even particularly care about computers or technology. It’s nice to know that technology is advancing but I’d rather sit on the sidelines and watch. It’s like getting hit by a UFC fighter, I’d rather be outside the Octagon. That being said, I’m not sure what else I’d be good at or what else I’d rather do. I’m complaining about something but not having a suggestion on ways to fix it.
I can imagine how Peter from Office Space felt. What would I do if I had a million dollars? Well, given today’s economic situation, the overall weakness of the dollar and the potential for a global economic catastrophe, I’d probably keep working, since a million dollars wouldn’t last me until I died given my life expectancy is probably increasing every year I’m alive.
Okay, seriously though… If I had enough money that I wouldn’t have to work ever again, I’d probably play golf every day, get a job at a coffee shop, meet a cool artistic nerdy girl, get married and live a long happy life. Aside from making lattes and swinging my driver, I would do absolutely nothing… I AM the reason communism doesn’t work.
Well, you ask, what happened to all that talk about challenges and getting bored? Well, have you ever tried to play golf? Or been behind the person whose coffee order needs its own ZIP code? Take away the office politics and I’d be pretty happy churning out coffee for yuppies and screaming FORE! as my drive slices off toward a group on the adjoining fairway. Plus who could blame me? Would you rather sit in the Octagon getting pounded by Tito Ortiz or swing a golf club on a perfectly manicured fairway? Speaking of getting pounded, I think I hear sirens going off… I better go to the shelter before my life expectancy takes a sudden nose dive.
I’ve had a habit of changing jobs very frequently in my short career. Where most people have either stayed in one position or moved once, this will have been my fourth job switch and hopefully when I get home I’ll have made my fifth. I do it because I get bored once something ceases to be a challenge and that’s when I get restless and start updating my resume. In fact, my most recent resume update was about a week ago. I’m like a 5 month old Labrador puppy, I need to be walked or else I’ll start tearing up the house.
I’m not really even sure I am cut out for the corporate world. I imagined going back to the cubical farm in some office high rise and it made me shudder. Four jobs and I haven’t found a single position that I felt was a real challenge, even dodging rockets while trying to launch an aircraft has proven boring after a year. I guess one could argue that doing what we do out here is about the same as trying to work from home with a child banging pots and pans together in another room. In the end it’s all just another distraction.
Either way, I don’t plan on doing this again. I remotely recall writing something about quitting when I reach a certain percentage of boredom and I think I’ve reached it. But again, where do I go from here?
Sometimes I regret getting my computer science degree. I don’t even particularly care about computers or technology. It’s nice to know that technology is advancing but I’d rather sit on the sidelines and watch. It’s like getting hit by a UFC fighter, I’d rather be outside the Octagon. That being said, I’m not sure what else I’d be good at or what else I’d rather do. I’m complaining about something but not having a suggestion on ways to fix it.
I can imagine how Peter from Office Space felt. What would I do if I had a million dollars? Well, given today’s economic situation, the overall weakness of the dollar and the potential for a global economic catastrophe, I’d probably keep working, since a million dollars wouldn’t last me until I died given my life expectancy is probably increasing every year I’m alive.
Okay, seriously though… If I had enough money that I wouldn’t have to work ever again, I’d probably play golf every day, get a job at a coffee shop, meet a cool artistic nerdy girl, get married and live a long happy life. Aside from making lattes and swinging my driver, I would do absolutely nothing… I AM the reason communism doesn’t work.
Well, you ask, what happened to all that talk about challenges and getting bored? Well, have you ever tried to play golf? Or been behind the person whose coffee order needs its own ZIP code? Take away the office politics and I’d be pretty happy churning out coffee for yuppies and screaming FORE! as my drive slices off toward a group on the adjoining fairway. Plus who could blame me? Would you rather sit in the Octagon getting pounded by Tito Ortiz or swing a golf club on a perfectly manicured fairway? Speaking of getting pounded, I think I hear sirens going off… I better go to the shelter before my life expectancy takes a sudden nose dive.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
It's Time
It’s only fair that I balance out my previous post about things that I like out here with things that I miss back home. To be really honest, this doesn’t have anything to do with balancing, it has more to do with the fact that I’m ready to come home. But can you blame me really? I can only make so many different types of baked potatoes or go to the gym so many times a day. There comes a time when the grass gets so blindingly green over the fence that you’re willing to risk that electric fence and try to jump over. Too bad I don’t control that, and I’m obligated by some intrinsic set of morals that forces me to stay here until my time is complete.
It’s kind of like a jail sentence without that nasty criminal record and the crime that put you there. I’m sure jail is all candy canes and lollipops in the beginning. You get 3 square meals, cable television, a bed and probably some decent stories. But then you start to realize that you’re stuck, you can’t leave, you can’t do what you want and your cell mate starts looking at you with that sparkle in his eye. That’s when you realize that maybe that crime wasn’t such a good idea. But in my case there isn’t a cell mate, and there wasn’t a crime so it’s just me saying that spending a year chasing after militants is enough.
I’m sure in either situation you start to miss those free days when the wind was flowing through your hair as you cruised down the highway with your windows down on a warm summer day heading in no particular direction at all. That’s why this post was necessary, instead of that yin-yang excuse I was trying to sell earlier. Albeit my sales pitch could probably use some work, but at least I started off with it instead of jumping right into the sparkly eyed cell mate.
But let it be known that the aforementioned freedom is greatly missed, the freedom to do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted and however I wanted. I miss sleeping in on weekends if I felt like it. Since there are no weekends out here, there isn’t much opportunity to sleep in. Along those same lines, I miss taking that sick day in the middle of the week even though I’m clearly well enough to wake up and make the call into work.
I miss waking up just before the sun rose to go out to Creve Coeur or Forest Park for a 4 to 12 miler. The air smelled clean as I trotted along enjoying the changing scenery with every passing foot. I traded that to spend an hour on the treadmill at the gym. I’m still there before the sunrises but the smell of drying paint is somehow less desirable than the smell of clean air.
I miss seeing friends when I wanted to, or staying in when I didn’t feel like doing anything. To have the option to say, “I think I’m going to stay home today” instead of thinking, “God I’m so tired of seeing these people.” I miss having a variety of people to hang out with, rather than seeing the same five or six individuals every hour of every day without any other options because everyone else on the FOB is hanging out with their same group of folks.
I miss real commercials, yes, REAL commercials. I’m not complaining about having television, since we didn’t have it in Afghanistan, but we have AFN (Armed Forces Network), which has been playing the same commercials since AFN’s creation. They’re not even really commercials. I can’t really describe them but they’re directed toward the military and created by the military. I can say that while I was in Australia I actually looked forward to seeing something being sold on TV. I’d take the Sham-Wow guy or Ronco right now…
I miss real conversation. Everything out here usually has something to do with the government collapsing or who’s to blame for the financial collapse. I like to point out that somehow people survived without either in the past and that I don’t plan on just disappearing if something bad happens, not that anything bad will happen. But that doesn’t seem to affect anyone else’s views, they apparently all have some kind of future machine that tells them the world is ending and since their lives are tied directly to the health of the government or the financial system those will end too. Maybe I’ll be the only one left, who knows…
There’s plenty more that I’m excited to get home to either do, or not have to deal with but those are just the things that stand out right now. So does anyone know anyone who’s hiring on the greener side right now?
It’s kind of like a jail sentence without that nasty criminal record and the crime that put you there. I’m sure jail is all candy canes and lollipops in the beginning. You get 3 square meals, cable television, a bed and probably some decent stories. But then you start to realize that you’re stuck, you can’t leave, you can’t do what you want and your cell mate starts looking at you with that sparkle in his eye. That’s when you realize that maybe that crime wasn’t such a good idea. But in my case there isn’t a cell mate, and there wasn’t a crime so it’s just me saying that spending a year chasing after militants is enough.
I’m sure in either situation you start to miss those free days when the wind was flowing through your hair as you cruised down the highway with your windows down on a warm summer day heading in no particular direction at all. That’s why this post was necessary, instead of that yin-yang excuse I was trying to sell earlier. Albeit my sales pitch could probably use some work, but at least I started off with it instead of jumping right into the sparkly eyed cell mate.
But let it be known that the aforementioned freedom is greatly missed, the freedom to do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted and however I wanted. I miss sleeping in on weekends if I felt like it. Since there are no weekends out here, there isn’t much opportunity to sleep in. Along those same lines, I miss taking that sick day in the middle of the week even though I’m clearly well enough to wake up and make the call into work.
I miss waking up just before the sun rose to go out to Creve Coeur or Forest Park for a 4 to 12 miler. The air smelled clean as I trotted along enjoying the changing scenery with every passing foot. I traded that to spend an hour on the treadmill at the gym. I’m still there before the sunrises but the smell of drying paint is somehow less desirable than the smell of clean air.
I miss seeing friends when I wanted to, or staying in when I didn’t feel like doing anything. To have the option to say, “I think I’m going to stay home today” instead of thinking, “God I’m so tired of seeing these people.” I miss having a variety of people to hang out with, rather than seeing the same five or six individuals every hour of every day without any other options because everyone else on the FOB is hanging out with their same group of folks.
I miss real commercials, yes, REAL commercials. I’m not complaining about having television, since we didn’t have it in Afghanistan, but we have AFN (Armed Forces Network), which has been playing the same commercials since AFN’s creation. They’re not even really commercials. I can’t really describe them but they’re directed toward the military and created by the military. I can say that while I was in Australia I actually looked forward to seeing something being sold on TV. I’d take the Sham-Wow guy or Ronco right now…
I miss real conversation. Everything out here usually has something to do with the government collapsing or who’s to blame for the financial collapse. I like to point out that somehow people survived without either in the past and that I don’t plan on just disappearing if something bad happens, not that anything bad will happen. But that doesn’t seem to affect anyone else’s views, they apparently all have some kind of future machine that tells them the world is ending and since their lives are tied directly to the health of the government or the financial system those will end too. Maybe I’ll be the only one left, who knows…
There’s plenty more that I’m excited to get home to either do, or not have to deal with but those are just the things that stand out right now. So does anyone know anyone who’s hiring on the greener side right now?
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Just Another Tourist
I’ve spent close to a week trying to figure out how to tell the story about my trip to Australia. The problem I’ve run into is that I don’t see much of a story to tell. In the past my travels have led me to all kinds of adventure and excitement. By “in the past” I actually mean my trip to Europe. But this time there wasn’t that pizzazz. It wasn’t like Europe where I went without a plan and met new people and made it up as I went along. This trip was your run of the mill tourist trip, nothing very exciting at all.
I traveled with a friend, so there wasn’t any need to meet anyone else. In hindsight, I would have had more fun traveling alone and hostel hopping but instead there was always a hotel booked and at least something in mind to do. I envied those who were staying at the hostels, they were not only traveling cheap but they were able to connect with new people and hang out with someone other than those they were traveling with.
The trip was a lot of fun, but it just lacked that edginess, the excitement that keeps the words flowing and the pages turning. So instead I’ll just talk about how I’m unable to write anything about it because it just wasn’t exciting enough to write about. Maybe this story was just one to be told over a cold beverage instead of over a keyboard. I can assure you that the next time I go it’ll be me, a car and lots of open road.
I traveled with a friend, so there wasn’t any need to meet anyone else. In hindsight, I would have had more fun traveling alone and hostel hopping but instead there was always a hotel booked and at least something in mind to do. I envied those who were staying at the hostels, they were not only traveling cheap but they were able to connect with new people and hang out with someone other than those they were traveling with.
The trip was a lot of fun, but it just lacked that edginess, the excitement that keeps the words flowing and the pages turning. So instead I’ll just talk about how I’m unable to write anything about it because it just wasn’t exciting enough to write about. Maybe this story was just one to be told over a cold beverage instead of over a keyboard. I can assure you that the next time I go it’ll be me, a car and lots of open road.
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