Fact #14
I think it would be weird to be famous. Especially the kind of famous where no one can place you, but everyone double takes. It’d seem like everyone was surprised to see you no matter where you were, and I’d always wonder if I am supposed to be there.
Fact #4
I think when people sleep a lot it’s a sign of weakness. But I think when I sleep a lot it’s a sign of awesomeness.
I’m not an asshole, but sometimes I choose not to care. That might make me an asshole.
Fact #76
I want to start handing out notes to people who wait on me explaining that I am def. But I’m not def, and I believe in Karma just enough to think that is a dangerous idea.
Fact #14
I enjoy talking to relative strangers, and I enjoy getting my hair cut. But I hate talking to the relative stranger who cuts my hair. This makes me hard to work with.
Patrick Swayze is like a father to me. But he’s like a negligent father that doesn’t know I exist. My father is a better father to me than Patrick Swayze will ever be, unless maybe dancing is involved.
I really enjoy being a teacher and doing youth work. But if I see youth in public I can’t stand them. I wonder how people deal with them day in and day out until I remember that I deal with them day in and day out. Then it makes me wonder what type of person I am.
Fact about me #3:
I like dance movies. I take them too seriously and am constantly disappointed, but at the same time I’m constantly thrilled.
So many different ways to mark where I'm supposed to go . . . still I managed to get lost.
You have to stamp a pilgrims record as you go along to prove you did the pilgrimage. My question remains, why would you lie about a pilgrimage and who are you proving this to?
My group with only 100km to go.
A look at the trail.
Hey look! Orange things!
Spanish grave yards are nuts. Apparently there was a shortage of shovels at some point so they started stacking things up. On the plus side, this would be easy to recrate with Legos.
One reason why you don't drink too much the night before walking 25 kilometers.
Cafes are a must on any pilgrimage. I wasn't exactly roughing it.
Spanish jail?
This is how dapper I looked as a pilgrim. Notice how I switched the traditional hat with a big buckle for a much more Gilligan look.
My load . . . the smallest on the trip, but I did get tired of wearing the same thing every day for a week.
These Portugese guys (and a Brazilian) had each won a metal for how much wine they drank at lunch time. Needless to say, I enjoyed my few hours hearing their stores (in Potrugese so I didn't follow much) when I walked with them after lunch.
Oh come one now. That's not nice.
The End . . . Finally.
