2 weeks and counting

There's a lot of thought going on right now.
Between a great night last night, and a rough day at work, and a complete lack of energy and a failed attempt (OK, mediocre attempt) at going to the gym tonight, I'm in an off mood and feel like opening up a little bit because I'm pretty sure no one reads this. Who knows, maybe you do, if you're reading this, and it's not me, then I hope you get what I mean. Moving on.
Last night I was going to go workout and gather my thoughts, but instead decided to go to the Canoe Club, drink beer, and eat a burger, and make idle conversation with a stranger even if I wasn't in the greatest state of mind to talk to people. You understand.
I met John, who was an older guy, was very nice, and as you can imagine, we got talking about travel. He told me about a lot of the places he went to overseas, between Egypt, France, Thailand; he mentioned that this was the first year in about twenty years that he hasn't gone overseas. I'm slightly envious, I hope I'm able to do the same. John told me one thing, however, that caught me off guard. I almost forgot it, but miraculously it popped into my head this morning with rush of caffeine after I finished my coffee.
"He who travels alone travels the fastest and is probably the happiest."
That statement really made me smile.
I've traveled a lot, a lot alone, and sometimes with people. Alone is the best. Meeting strangers, telling them your stories, listening to theirs, there's nothing quite like it. When I'm with someone, I feel slightly restrained. Not because I'm selfish, I'm just slightly insecure when it comes to making decisions that involve other people.
I'm not good at making the first move or thinking of things to do that involve other people because I know what I like and I'm not very receptive on what others like. I try to be, but, it's either anxiety or insecurity or who knows. I can't even bring myself to kiss a girl unless she tries to kiss me first, which kind of explains why my track record is less than stellar.
I know this trip is going to change me, and that's the most exciting thing for me to imagine. To sit here and know who I am now, and know that in 7 weeks, if I'm back at this same computer, when everything is exactly the same now, I'm going to be different. I know it will be for the better, and I hope I don't burn to many bridges.
With all this talk of "hope" and "change" I feel like a fucking presidential candidate. I'll stop writing now.

Writing for the sake of it

Today I woke up with every intention of going on a hike. Its like most Mondays, I wake up, make coffee, make scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese and hot sauce, a slice of wheat toast with peanut butter on it, and then I sit down at the computer and search for a decent day hike. Today, my mind was set on the Crawford Notch trail. With the trailhead located right on route 302 in the White Mountains of New Hampshire, I knew I could find it, and I'm confident about hiking 11 miles over 2 4,000 foot peaks.

But this didn't happen. I got up into Littleton, and it was obvious it was going to rain. The sky was grey, and I really wasn't feeling motivated. I kept telling myself "You made it this far, asshole, come on, just hike a little mountain" and then, suddenly, I found myself outside of my car in Franconia Notch staring at the trail for Mt. Liberty. Apparently, a single steep, exposed peak in the rain is a lot better than 2 less exposed peaks on a trail that loops around a little more gradually.

I'm not going to bore you with details of the hike. Instead, im going to throw a short paragraph in between telling you that I'm not going to bore you, so I hopefully don't bore you.

There weren't a lot of people on the trail. Mainly because theres not a lot of people as stupid as me. The people I did see where on the trail for days, in parkas, with full 60-70 litre packs, giving me funny looks. I saw the AMC caretaker for the tentsite twice, once on the way up, once down, and when I was going down we struck up a small conversation and I mentioned I went to the summit.

"You went to the summit? In the rain, dressed like that, alone?"

"You're alone too."

"Well... Have a nice hike!"

I love it when I can leave an AMC guide speachless. It's what happens when you live in New England for 22 of 23 years. But she had a point, the top was cold, windy, and wet, and a t-shirt and shorts were no match for the elements. To prove this, I took a picture of myself with Mt. Liberty in the background. It wasnt pleasant. I mean, look at my facial expression, I'm obviously in pain.

Overall, the 8.4 miles round trip were worth it. It provides a great story, great pictures, and proves I have some sort of drive not many others have. Basically, it makes me all sorts of an elitist asshole that I know I am already. I'm tired, thats all for tonight.

First post

I'm really just doing a first post so I have one here.
I drank half a bottle of wine, I bought a plane ticket to Germany. This is a blog that's going to be a story of my life, my travels, and random philosophy brought to you by a mechanic that lives to close to Dartmouth College.
Nothing more now.
Enjoy.