Prologue: The Storm Before The Storm

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The Storm Before The Storm

Dear Diary:
I don't really know what i'm doing here. Ive never tried to blog things before and i may have to type code somewhere in the mix so this could be real messy. Bear with me.

Some of you people may have read an email or two from previous trips. These came out every few weeks and tended to be so long winded I usually lost interest in writing half way through. There were happy bits, funny bits, hitchhiking, wild rental car rides, hellishly horrendous bus rides, puking in buckets, mountainous shredding, coconut mishaps, drugs &/or alcohol, bad fish, thefts, crazed hitchhikers pulling knives on the whole party, avalanches, friendly locals, ssshpelunking, tourist scams, huge ass'ed brazillians, bathtub liquor, sweater vests, language stumbles, being puked on by companions after drinking bathtub liquor, and most importantly the dance parties. Ah dance parties.

What was i saying? Oh ya. This time i am going to try to be more concise, leaving out the drudgery of everyday life. How many times can you read about drinking beer on the beach? 46 days in a row? I sure hope not!
I will also try and write more often although i cannot promise anything because i will probably be face-down drunk on the beach.

I have worked more hours in the last 2 days than the entire month of May leaving me just enough time and energy to write lists and check nothing off of them. Timing, as they say, is everything.

I have 5 days until I leave, 2 unpaid parking tickets, no malaria pills, and no fucking clue what I am going to bring.

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Comments

[pilyapearl]

yeeeeeeeeee!
oh the glory that awaits you on the other side of the ocean. . .