An acrophobic bird.
I just made that up.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Uh-oh
Well, it's happening. I'm experiencing my first case of writers block. Either that or my life unexpectedly became uninteresting. In any case my hit reality blog series is taking a turn for the worse. The sad thing is that I've actually been traveling. I left Meschers on Wednesday to go to Paris for a few days and take care of some business. Nothing too exciting there. Wait. No. Yes, I'm inspired again! So on the train to Paris I thought of something funny. What if you somehow got a bunch of short grannies and grandpas with luggage into a train car. Work with me here. And in that train car, you add one young man to help them put their luggage into the overhead storage area. At the first stop, remove young man and insert hidden camera. Yep.
While in Paris I spent the two nights hanging out with my cousin. The first night I'd really rather not talk about but I'm going to let it out anyway. We went over to his friends house for a couple drinks, and once again I found myself in front of a Wii. And what's better is that they were playing Mario Kart! I quickly got in on the action only to find that these goofy French bastards were damn good. In fact, I won a few races but didn't win a single cup all night! WTF? How embarassing. And if you think you know someone competitive, multiply that by 100 and you get the French. I'm tearing up just thinking about it.
Moving on, the next night was a little less disturbing. I've got to give you a little background for this one. A few months ago my cousin discovered the magnificent mystifying world of interned dating. But dating sites in France are a little different. More on that later. For now we'll just say that their primary use isn't for getting a date. So two days earlier, my cousin met this girl online and within hours they had already exchanged phone numbers. They talked a little and she invited us to a party at one of her friends' house. It wasn't exactly next door but sometimes you've got to make sacrifices. After about an hour drive we showed up at this house full of people we didn't know. I made a mental note of something that I really appreciate about the French culture. When you show up somewhere, whether you know everyone or not, you introduce yourself to each person individually. It's really nice; you inevitably feel more at easy right away. And it's polite. Just like how you never show up anywhere empty-handed. We brought whiskey. Anyway, the night turned out to be pretty fun. I met a lot of new interesting people. 5:00 a.m. rolled around quickly and I was in the living room talking with my new friends and waiting for my cousin to finish target practice in the upstairs bedroom. Once he hit bull's-eye, we said goodbye and took off. We made it home just in time for him to change clothes and leave for work. I got some much needed sleep.
When I woke up, I made the trip back to Tours to spend a couple days relaxing before the long awaited, nervously anticipated two weeks of vacation with my cousins in Meschers.
While in Paris I spent the two nights hanging out with my cousin. The first night I'd really rather not talk about but I'm going to let it out anyway. We went over to his friends house for a couple drinks, and once again I found myself in front of a Wii. And what's better is that they were playing Mario Kart! I quickly got in on the action only to find that these goofy French bastards were damn good. In fact, I won a few races but didn't win a single cup all night! WTF? How embarassing. And if you think you know someone competitive, multiply that by 100 and you get the French. I'm tearing up just thinking about it.
Moving on, the next night was a little less disturbing. I've got to give you a little background for this one. A few months ago my cousin discovered the magnificent mystifying world of interned dating. But dating sites in France are a little different. More on that later. For now we'll just say that their primary use isn't for getting a date. So two days earlier, my cousin met this girl online and within hours they had already exchanged phone numbers. They talked a little and she invited us to a party at one of her friends' house. It wasn't exactly next door but sometimes you've got to make sacrifices. After about an hour drive we showed up at this house full of people we didn't know. I made a mental note of something that I really appreciate about the French culture. When you show up somewhere, whether you know everyone or not, you introduce yourself to each person individually. It's really nice; you inevitably feel more at easy right away. And it's polite. Just like how you never show up anywhere empty-handed. We brought whiskey. Anyway, the night turned out to be pretty fun. I met a lot of new interesting people. 5:00 a.m. rolled around quickly and I was in the living room talking with my new friends and waiting for my cousin to finish target practice in the upstairs bedroom. Once he hit bull's-eye, we said goodbye and took off. We made it home just in time for him to change clothes and leave for work. I got some much needed sleep.
When I woke up, I made the trip back to Tours to spend a couple days relaxing before the long awaited, nervously anticipated two weeks of vacation with my cousins in Meschers.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Words of Wisdom
I don't know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve.
-J.R.R Tolkien
Live in such a way that you would not be ashamed to sell your parrot to the town gossip.
-Will Rogers
-J.R.R Tolkien
Live in such a way that you would not be ashamed to sell your parrot to the town gossip.
-Will Rogers
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Irony
So you know when you accidentally make plans to meet up with three different girls at the same place on the same night? Well that happened to me last week.
I wish this story was as interesting and funny as that opening sentence would suggest. It's not. It's anticlimactic. Expect an abrupt, unsatisfying ending. I'll leave room at the bottom for you to imagine something exciting happening in a car.
I'm now in Meschers, my dad's home town in France where I spend the bulk of my time when I'm here. The names have been changed to protect the innocent, to unnecessarily complicate the story for the purpose of my own personal entertainment, and of course, to establish a hierarchy among those involved.
Girl 1: friend. Girl 2: friend. Girl 3: ex summer fling. All three: strangers to one another. I had seen 2 the two nights before so I told her that I had made plans with other friends that I hadn't seen yet. I really wanted to see 1 because she's funny as hell and I hadn't seen her in three years. So we got together, got a bottle of vodka, and set up shop at this viewpoint (more on that later) on a cliff that overlooks the ocean. We laughed and talked of memories past. 3, you ask? She conveniently wasn't available until late. When the time came, I made a last minute decision to invite her to join us for a drink. There's a logical explanation for this. First, I was impartial on seeing her and didn't feel like she needed any special attention. And second, these two girls had unknowingly crossed paths six years ago so I had a good conversation starter. In the summer of 2003 (coincidentally, the year I met 2, 1, and 3), 2 worked coat check at a discotheque (I love that word) that 1 frequented (and that one). I only knew this because I too was a patron. Anyway, the three of us talked for an hour or so while stargazing then called it a night.
.
I wish this story was as interesting and funny as that opening sentence would suggest. It's not. It's anticlimactic. Expect an abrupt, unsatisfying ending. I'll leave room at the bottom for you to imagine something exciting happening in a car.
I'm now in Meschers, my dad's home town in France where I spend the bulk of my time when I'm here. The names have been changed to protect the innocent, to unnecessarily complicate the story for the purpose of my own personal entertainment, and of course, to establish a hierarchy among those involved.
Girl 1: friend. Girl 2: friend. Girl 3: ex summer fling. All three: strangers to one another. I had seen 2 the two nights before so I told her that I had made plans with other friends that I hadn't seen yet. I really wanted to see 1 because she's funny as hell and I hadn't seen her in three years. So we got together, got a bottle of vodka, and set up shop at this viewpoint (more on that later) on a cliff that overlooks the ocean. We laughed and talked of memories past. 3, you ask? She conveniently wasn't available until late. When the time came, I made a last minute decision to invite her to join us for a drink. There's a logical explanation for this. First, I was impartial on seeing her and didn't feel like she needed any special attention. And second, these two girls had unknowingly crossed paths six years ago so I had a good conversation starter. In the summer of 2003 (coincidentally, the year I met 2, 1, and 3), 2 worked coat check at a discotheque (I love that word) that 1 frequented (and that one). I only knew this because I too was a patron. Anyway, the three of us talked for an hour or so while stargazing then called it a night.
.
Really?!
Old French man walking down the street, baguette in hand, wearing a black "50 Cent"/"G-Unit" baseball cap.
Discovering the Alternative
Sometimes I know what's going to happen next before it actually happens. I'd like to develop this but I haven't figured out exactly how yet.
Sometimes I inexplicably start humming a random tune that I haven't heard in a long time, at the exact same time as someone else. This happens too frequently to be coincidence.
Language is a relatively inefficient form of communication. It has a purpose, but it's overvalued. Our perverted understanding of it causes us to use it ineffectively. How much of what we say is actually constructive in terms of our personal welfare or advancement as a species? People's dependence on it has had adverse effects on our evolution. Our overuse and misuse of it hinders progress.
How do you express something you can't explain to someone who hasn't experienced the same thing?
Sometimes I inexplicably start humming a random tune that I haven't heard in a long time, at the exact same time as someone else. This happens too frequently to be coincidence.
Language is a relatively inefficient form of communication. It has a purpose, but it's overvalued. Our perverted understanding of it causes us to use it ineffectively. How much of what we say is actually constructive in terms of our personal welfare or advancement as a species? People's dependence on it has had adverse effects on our evolution. Our overuse and misuse of it hinders progress.
How do you express something you can't explain to someone who hasn't experienced the same thing?
Logic
Some people believe that everything happens for a reason. I agree. Everything happens as a result of something else. That's the reason.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Blah Blah Blah (continued)
Later Thursday afternoon, they younger sister in my host family asked if I wanted to go out to eat with her and some friends and possibly go out after. I checked my day planner and as luck would have it, that window of time was wide open. Naturally, I agreed. When we got to the restaurant I realized why she hadn't given me any details about the outing. My company for the evening consisted of my sister and 12 of her female classmates from beauty school. That's it. We had a nice long table for 14 on the terrace in the busy part of town and I was right in the middle. I'm pretty sure every guy that walked by gave me an envious look of approval. You know the one with the little smirk and one eyebrow half raised. This is typical French behavior. In fact, as I was leaving the restaurant, two guys sitting at a bar near the restaurant flagged me down to ask me how I managed to score dinner with eight girls. I responded nonchalantly, "thirteen." Anyway, towards the end of dinner the girls randomly started singing vulgar songs together as if we were sitting around a campfire. Completely ignorant of other people around us, the songs kept getting louder and more obnoxious. Again, this behavior is not uncommon among the French. Within 10 minutes, a large table of all guys sitting around the corner from us in the restaurant started singing as well. This logically turned into a competition because guys cannot be outdone by girls, and vice versa. Don't forget about me. All along, I'm just sitting there in the middle of the girls table, unfamiliar with any of the lyrics to these songs. Needless to say, it was quite the evening. The singing eventually stopped when the owner came over and told us to shut up (not exactly those words but you could tell he meant business). After dinner, I dragged them all over to l'Alexandra for a drink. I said hi to the owner and bartenders and acted as if the situation was commonplace.
Friday night was much less eventful. I went back into town and didn't find anyone to talk to at l'Alexandra. I didn't want to turn around and go home just yet so I decided to call the bouncer's friends from a couple nights before (that's the beauty of meeting people in random situations). They happened to be nearby so we met up. We went to a little mini mart and bought a bottle of vodka and some mixers, found a bench to chill on, and talked the night, and the bottle, away. That should have been more than enough, but at the time it seemed like a good idea to go out to the club and dance a little. We did just that, but not before getting another bottle. I stumbled home an hour later. Or at least I started to, when I got a text message from a friend that I hadn't seen in five years (I never thought I'd say that. Does that mean I'm getting old?). Turns out she was in town and wanted to see me. I warned her of my condition but she insisted. We met up just long enough for her to realize that I wasn't lying. That was fine; she had turned into a French hippie anyway. Wow, what a fascinating breed. They're like a mix between our college know-it-all hippies and our low-life Star Wars/video game hippies. They all have these loose-fitting colorful hemp hippie pants. The guys have long hair that has been untouched for weeks. They hang out in crowds (usually by water). They blend in astoundingly well with the the surrounding bums, which hover around them like flies on a rhino. They worship Bob Marley and Kurt Cobain but somehow take a liking to techno and trance music. They smoke and drink their nights away while blindly debating views of politics that they've unknowingly been force-fed by the media. They have a strange obsession with fire, juggling, and twriling things around, and love experimenting with any combination of the three. I have never encountered a group of individuals that are so unsure of who they are. It's mind numbing. I'll have more on them later.
Getting out of bed on Saturday was slow and unpleasant, headache and all. I had lunch with the host family and was served my daily dose of mocking and friendly criticism for staying out so late and drinking. After eating, I packed a backpack for my next adventure and looked online at the schedule of trains to Paris. In doing so, I fell asleep. Zzzzzzzzzzzz. I woke up 30 minutes before the train I had decided on was scheduled to leave. In spite of the fact that the train station is a 40 minute walk from the house and I didn't even have a ticket yet, I calmly said goodbye to my family and walked out the door. Although relatively insignificant, the following series of events whether coincidence or pure chance, is a prime example of why I started this blog. I was strangely unconcerned with the time and walked only slightly faster than my regular pace. Five minutes into my walk, I came upon the one bus that went from where I was to where I was going. It was stopped at the bus stop just long enough for me to get to it (without rushing), thanks to a stoplight. Less than ten minutes later, I arrived at the train station which was unusually deserted for that time of day and this time of year. I stood in line for my ticket for less than five minutes, which on any other day would have been 10 to 15. I walked to the train and the doors closed behind me. When I got to Paris, I made my way to the metro that would get me to the next train station. Once at this station, there was absolutely no line. Having absolutely no idea when the next train was, I asked for a ticket. The lady behind the window told me to hurry because there was one leaving within the next couple minutes. I did just that, hopped on, and again the doors shut behind me. When I arrived, my cousins were there waiting for me. Under no circumstance could I have made it any faster from my host family's house in Tours to my cousins' place outside of Paris. From there, we went straight to a friend's house for dinner and drinks until about one in the morning when we left for the club. That night can best be described by the pictures on facebook (Paris-Vegas album) so I'm not even going to try. I woke up Sunday afternoon and made the trip back to Tours where I spent the next few days relaxing and recovering.
Friday night was much less eventful. I went back into town and didn't find anyone to talk to at l'Alexandra. I didn't want to turn around and go home just yet so I decided to call the bouncer's friends from a couple nights before (that's the beauty of meeting people in random situations). They happened to be nearby so we met up. We went to a little mini mart and bought a bottle of vodka and some mixers, found a bench to chill on, and talked the night, and the bottle, away. That should have been more than enough, but at the time it seemed like a good idea to go out to the club and dance a little. We did just that, but not before getting another bottle. I stumbled home an hour later. Or at least I started to, when I got a text message from a friend that I hadn't seen in five years (I never thought I'd say that. Does that mean I'm getting old?). Turns out she was in town and wanted to see me. I warned her of my condition but she insisted. We met up just long enough for her to realize that I wasn't lying. That was fine; she had turned into a French hippie anyway. Wow, what a fascinating breed. They're like a mix between our college know-it-all hippies and our low-life Star Wars/video game hippies. They all have these loose-fitting colorful hemp hippie pants. The guys have long hair that has been untouched for weeks. They hang out in crowds (usually by water). They blend in astoundingly well with the the surrounding bums, which hover around them like flies on a rhino. They worship Bob Marley and Kurt Cobain but somehow take a liking to techno and trance music. They smoke and drink their nights away while blindly debating views of politics that they've unknowingly been force-fed by the media. They have a strange obsession with fire, juggling, and twriling things around, and love experimenting with any combination of the three. I have never encountered a group of individuals that are so unsure of who they are. It's mind numbing. I'll have more on them later.
Getting out of bed on Saturday was slow and unpleasant, headache and all. I had lunch with the host family and was served my daily dose of mocking and friendly criticism for staying out so late and drinking. After eating, I packed a backpack for my next adventure and looked online at the schedule of trains to Paris. In doing so, I fell asleep. Zzzzzzzzzzzz. I woke up 30 minutes before the train I had decided on was scheduled to leave. In spite of the fact that the train station is a 40 minute walk from the house and I didn't even have a ticket yet, I calmly said goodbye to my family and walked out the door. Although relatively insignificant, the following series of events whether coincidence or pure chance, is a prime example of why I started this blog. I was strangely unconcerned with the time and walked only slightly faster than my regular pace. Five minutes into my walk, I came upon the one bus that went from where I was to where I was going. It was stopped at the bus stop just long enough for me to get to it (without rushing), thanks to a stoplight. Less than ten minutes later, I arrived at the train station which was unusually deserted for that time of day and this time of year. I stood in line for my ticket for less than five minutes, which on any other day would have been 10 to 15. I walked to the train and the doors closed behind me. When I got to Paris, I made my way to the metro that would get me to the next train station. Once at this station, there was absolutely no line. Having absolutely no idea when the next train was, I asked for a ticket. The lady behind the window told me to hurry because there was one leaving within the next couple minutes. I did just that, hopped on, and again the doors shut behind me. When I arrived, my cousins were there waiting for me. Under no circumstance could I have made it any faster from my host family's house in Tours to my cousins' place outside of Paris. From there, we went straight to a friend's house for dinner and drinks until about one in the morning when we left for the club. That night can best be described by the pictures on facebook (Paris-Vegas album) so I'm not even going to try. I woke up Sunday afternoon and made the trip back to Tours where I spent the next few days relaxing and recovering.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Blah Blah Blah
Traveling alone is pretty neat. Funny things happen to me. I've gone out on the town almost every night and I have yet to be disappointed. Let me set the stage a bit. When I go out in Tours, I walk down to the old part of town appropriately called "le Vieux Tours." It's about a 35 minute walk from my host family's house. Anyway, this is the same area that I went out to when I studied abroad here 6 years ago in 2003. The bar I used to go to, called "l'Alexandra" has the cheapest beer and typically caters to the foreign crowd. I got to know the owner and bartenders pretty well in the summers of '03, '04, and '05. In '06, the owner moved to le Mans to open a bigger better bar. Since then, but not for that reason, I haven't spent much time in Tours.
So on Monday night, my first night out alone, I made the obvious decision to check out my old hang out. It wasn't very busy but i decided to go in and treat myself to a tasty beverage while I reminisced of memories past. The reminiscing proved to be short lived, for right as I walked into the bar I noticed Wii tennis being played on the big screen in the back. Perfect. At least I wasn't going to get homesick at this bar. Naturally, when a controller finally freed up, I took my place in front of the TV. By this time my pint of beer was only half full. I proceeded to go undefeated in tennis and golf. In doing so, I managed to meet a few interesting people and half of the employees, including the new owner. Although relatively uneventful, the night was a success; low-key and entertaining.
When I woke up Tuesday morning I was pleasantly reminded of how great life is in Tours. Like clockwork, my host family wakes me up at 12:15 for lunch. After awesome food and good company (more on that later), I'm free to do as I please. This often consists of a nap. I know. Rough, right? Tuesday night rolled around and after dinner I was off for another night on the town. I went right back down to l'Alexandra, grabbed a pint and once again picked up the Wiimote. Don't worry, I've since moved on. I hung around for an hour or so. I finished my beer while playing a few rounds of Wii golf and decided that it was time to move on. I started wandering around town just people-watching. The French have such a different lifestyle (much more on that later), it's fascinating. I walked by a night club called Excalibur and noticed a group of drunken teeenagers trying to get in. I had to stop and watch. In a nutshell, it went a little something like this: The drunkest of the kids was trying to negotiate with the bouncer. He wasn't having it. Drunken friends were telling drunkest kid not to worry about it, that they'd go somewhere else. Bouncer advised drunkest kid to listen to friends. Drunkest kid, spitefully agrees to leave, but not before telling the bouncer (while flashing three 20 Euro bills) that he just made a mistake because he had lost the club a lot of money. Bouncer, laughing as they walk away, turns to a couple of his friends standing by and says facetiously, "putain, on a perdu cent Euros!" (Shit, we lost 100 Euros!) They all laughed and continued to talk sit on the stupid drunken teenagers until they noticed me right there just standing and laughing along (mind you, I was a few beers deep at the time). This sparked an interesting converstaion between the four of us, and 15 minutes later I had officially become friends with the bouncer and his two friends. I ended up going inside for a bit to check the place out but at that point I was tired so I left shortly after.
Wednesday night it was back to l'Alexandra to kick off another fine evening. I had a beer and sat down at a table right next to a group of three guys and a girl. After about 90 seconds I realized that all the guys were French, but the girl was American. Typically, a lone American girl will never agree to do much of anything with three frenchies so I was a bit curious as to how exactly this situation came about. As soon as I realized that there was a bit of a language barrier between them, I came up with an obvious plan to incoporate myself in their converstation. "Would you like me to help translate?" Instant gratification, "sure, why don't you join us?" Turns out the girl met one of the guys on couchsurfing.com and was staying at his place for a couple days. I spent the rest of the night chatting with them. At some point the girl invited me to join her on a bike ride the next morning to one of the nearby castles in the region. Since I'd never been and I felt like a fat ass for not engaging in any physical activity since my arrival in France, I gratefully agreed. At about 1 a.m. we all exchanged facebook info and called it a night.
Waking up at 6:30 Thursday morning wasn't easy but I was motivated to get in some exercise. The bike ride was about an hour and a half each way. The scenery was amazing; beautiful French countryside the entire way. Nevertheless, I only took three pictures on the actual ride, not one of which was of the landscape. You'll understand why in my next "Really?!" The castle and its gardens were impressive too; we spent a couple hours walking around. Overall, it was a pleasant morning and a nice change from my standard routine (sleep). Luckily I got a nap in when I got home mid afternoon!
So on Monday night, my first night out alone, I made the obvious decision to check out my old hang out. It wasn't very busy but i decided to go in and treat myself to a tasty beverage while I reminisced of memories past. The reminiscing proved to be short lived, for right as I walked into the bar I noticed Wii tennis being played on the big screen in the back. Perfect. At least I wasn't going to get homesick at this bar. Naturally, when a controller finally freed up, I took my place in front of the TV. By this time my pint of beer was only half full. I proceeded to go undefeated in tennis and golf. In doing so, I managed to meet a few interesting people and half of the employees, including the new owner. Although relatively uneventful, the night was a success; low-key and entertaining.
When I woke up Tuesday morning I was pleasantly reminded of how great life is in Tours. Like clockwork, my host family wakes me up at 12:15 for lunch. After awesome food and good company (more on that later), I'm free to do as I please. This often consists of a nap. I know. Rough, right? Tuesday night rolled around and after dinner I was off for another night on the town. I went right back down to l'Alexandra, grabbed a pint and once again picked up the Wiimote. Don't worry, I've since moved on. I hung around for an hour or so. I finished my beer while playing a few rounds of Wii golf and decided that it was time to move on. I started wandering around town just people-watching. The French have such a different lifestyle (much more on that later), it's fascinating. I walked by a night club called Excalibur and noticed a group of drunken teeenagers trying to get in. I had to stop and watch. In a nutshell, it went a little something like this: The drunkest of the kids was trying to negotiate with the bouncer. He wasn't having it. Drunken friends were telling drunkest kid not to worry about it, that they'd go somewhere else. Bouncer advised drunkest kid to listen to friends. Drunkest kid, spitefully agrees to leave, but not before telling the bouncer (while flashing three 20 Euro bills) that he just made a mistake because he had lost the club a lot of money. Bouncer, laughing as they walk away, turns to a couple of his friends standing by and says facetiously, "putain, on a perdu cent Euros!" (Shit, we lost 100 Euros!) They all laughed and continued to talk sit on the stupid drunken teenagers until they noticed me right there just standing and laughing along (mind you, I was a few beers deep at the time). This sparked an interesting converstaion between the four of us, and 15 minutes later I had officially become friends with the bouncer and his two friends. I ended up going inside for a bit to check the place out but at that point I was tired so I left shortly after.
Wednesday night it was back to l'Alexandra to kick off another fine evening. I had a beer and sat down at a table right next to a group of three guys and a girl. After about 90 seconds I realized that all the guys were French, but the girl was American. Typically, a lone American girl will never agree to do much of anything with three frenchies so I was a bit curious as to how exactly this situation came about. As soon as I realized that there was a bit of a language barrier between them, I came up with an obvious plan to incoporate myself in their converstation. "Would you like me to help translate?" Instant gratification, "sure, why don't you join us?" Turns out the girl met one of the guys on couchsurfing.com and was staying at his place for a couple days. I spent the rest of the night chatting with them. At some point the girl invited me to join her on a bike ride the next morning to one of the nearby castles in the region. Since I'd never been and I felt like a fat ass for not engaging in any physical activity since my arrival in France, I gratefully agreed. At about 1 a.m. we all exchanged facebook info and called it a night.
Waking up at 6:30 Thursday morning wasn't easy but I was motivated to get in some exercise. The bike ride was about an hour and a half each way. The scenery was amazing; beautiful French countryside the entire way. Nevertheless, I only took three pictures on the actual ride, not one of which was of the landscape. You'll understand why in my next "Really?!" The castle and its gardens were impressive too; we spent a couple hours walking around. Overall, it was a pleasant morning and a nice change from my standard routine (sleep). Luckily I got a nap in when I got home mid afternoon!
Neverending Story
So it's been a while since I've posted. It's not that I haven't been writing. It's just that every time I start writing I never finish. The problem seems to be that once I start telling a story, I feel like I have to include every little detail. I'm starting to realize though that there's no way that I'll be able to write about everything that happens on my trip, much less in my life after this trip. And even if I could it would make for a boring blog. After all, I'm not trying to write a story that flows, I just want to document the outstanding things in my life and my reflections on them so that I can eventually develop some understanding of the evolution of me and my thought process. That being said, my next post will be a compilation of my verbose writings from this last week or so because I can't justify simply deleting them after having taken the time to write them down.
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