Day 7

I’ve been walking the Camino for a week now and It feels like I’ve gotten nowhere. 

 I stopped today at Estella, a full two days behind schedule.  I’m not in as much pain as I was yesterday thanks to ibrubrofen and wrapping my ankles in orthopedic socks, I could’ve went further but for the sake of my tendons, I stopped here.

I’m not at a romantic albergue.  It’s my least favorite so far on the Camino.  It reminds me of the YMCA.  I can hear kids downstairs playing indoor soccer and the echo sounds ethereal and creepy.  Especially when they scream. Like it’s a slow-motion scream.  My ears can’t focus.

I pet a stay kitten today who looked sickly.  I felt so freaking sorry for him.  I was in pain at the time and homesick which made me feel even worse for the kitten because he reminded me of me.  He followed me for a long time despite telling him to”shoo” and “scat”.  

It’s only 7pm.  I ate, washed my clothes, called home.  Calling home was the highlight of my day.  Both my parents pick up the phone and talk to me simultaneously.

I hate how people back home make such a big deal out of my trip.  My brother boasts to everyone on Facebook what I’m doing.  I don’t like it.  It’s not a big deal.  There are hundreds of thousands of others who did it, I’m not special.

I told my parents this today and my Dad responded with “well at least you’re doing what you want to do.  You’ll have no regrets on your deathbed.”

Me- “That’s true.  I just really want to write a book.  I’ll regret never trying to do that.”

Today is the first day I’m really missing home.  I miss everyone.  The first time I did the Camino, all of my friends hated me at the time.  And the ones who didn’t hate me, stopped talking to me.  But this time, each and every one of them are talking to me again.  Amy, Kristi, the girls I went to Nepal with….everyone.  They even threw me a going away party and a bunch of people came!

I don’t understand life at all.  Not in the least bit.  It’s scary how bad things happen without any power to stop or change anything.  Thinking about this will send me into the void, the dark place.  It’s the helplessness that gets me.  Helplessness is the opposite of choice and ayahuasca said we’re here to learn free will.  It’s sort of a big deal.

Physical ailments can really make you hate your backpacking trip.  I remember last time, the day my pain went away during my last Camino adventure, was the same day I started enjoying myself.  And I wasn’t missing anyone since they all hated me.  

But right now, I’m missing people.  And I’m worried about my tendons.  It’s a different pilgrimage than the last one.  Im in a different place mentally and it feels a bit more emotionally erratic.  Like I have more to lose this time around.

I’m strongest when I’m at my weakest.  My life has been vanilla as of late and I can’t  form my mental toughness.  I’m not living in the here and now with a “Fuck everything” attitude.

I love everyone so much but only because I’m scared of being alone.  I hate seeing people/animals suffer because I know too well how that feels.  And I hate feeling powerless to do anything for them.

I’m sentimental, selfish and scared.  Nobody should praise me for that.  It’s the reason why I love and the reason why I care.  It’s the worst way to be, it’s not real.

  I usually find the humor in everything but it’s hard when I’m tired and in pain.  But this is exactly the time when I NEED humor the most.

For this Camino adventure, I’ll find my laughter again.  That’ll be my goal.  When I make a joke out of everything, only then do I feel like myself.  All fear is obliterated.  All that I’m left with is the real stuff.

And this is the perfect time to accomplish this goal.  The best time to complete a goal is when it’s least convenient.  So when you feel it, you REALLY feel it.  The emotional connection to it is stronger and according to ayahuasca, you only learn through emotional connections.

I have 2 YouTube videos to upload but it takes forever!  There’s just not a good time to do it.  

I want to sleep but it’s too damn early!  

An old Japanese man sharing my room is already asleep in his bunk.  He’s so damn cute with his little blue wind-breaker, the billowy kind that all old Japanese men wear. 

 The bright Florescent lights were on when I walked in and he was there laying in his bunk.  I turned off the lights as I left.  

They’re all just too damn considerate, those Japanese.  They’re my number one favorite nationality.  I know I shouldn’t pick favorites….I have a strong love for Koreans too.

I’m so freaking dehydrated it’s not even funny.

Well, I guess I should find the WIFI to publish this post.  Then I want to look up how to pop my Achilles’ tendon.  I don’t think it can happen just  by walking a lot. I’m fairly flexible.  It probably happens to non-flexible people when their calves get too tight and it pulls too taught.  I’m just suffering from micro-tears and ensuing inflammation.  Inflmmation is what causes real damage, hence the ibruprofin.  It’s the friction from my tendons “sheath” is what I’m feeling.  Like a non-oiled piston.  Yeeouch!

I’m hoping tomorrow will mark the end of my ailments and I can start walking the shit out of this shit.

Im really happy with this IPhone 6 Plus.  I can type forever no problem on it.  Still though, videos capture so much more.

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Day 6

I didn’t get far today. 5 miles at best. Each step felt like someone was standing behind me with a knife, slashing away at both my Achilles’ tendons. With each step.
With each step….
At home I never encountered this problem. I don’t suffer from ankle or foot problems ever.
I’m staying at an albergue in Lorca in my first private room of my trip. I taken a 4 hour nap than ate a pilgrims meal with Johan from Austria. A phychotherapist.
And my Achilles’ tendons still ache when I walk after a long 8 hour rest. I have to accept that I might not make it to Santiago by November 18.
Everything else is in good working order. My knee has acclimated and I’m stronger going uphill without getting as winded. It’s just my damn tendons. And oh god how they hurt!
Last night I had dinner with an older man from Ireland and a woman about my age from Japan. They had absolutely nothing in common with each other which was comical watching them try to communicate with their thick accents.
The Japanese woman knew very little English but she perked up when I mentioned Naruto Uzamaki. I said a few phrases from the show and told her I watched every single episode including the new show about Naruto’s son, Baruto. She couldn’t stop laughing.
The Irish man was a guy loving life. He threw out his TV 10 years ago and refused to bring his cell phone on this trip. He’s the type that appreciates every second and watches for signs on where to go next. Signs from God or whatever. He believes everything happens for a reason and so we were brought together for a reason. And he thanks people for their “gifts” in showning him these signs. 
He’s a tough old geezer that walks faster than I do.
My WIFI doesn’t work in my room so I have to go back out to publish this post. I’m also going to google Magnisium to see how it can help me. Johan tonight told me to get some for my aches and pains.
I’m seriously worried about my tendons. Im tough as nails and stubborn as hell. I only give in when I’m literally crawling in pain to the nearest town. I never EVER give up. I have Naruto Uzamaki to thank for that.
I’m also going to google Achilles’ tendon and Camino to see what pops up. This same ailment happened to me last time but I don’t remember it being so severe.


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Day 5 of Camino

I posted a couple videos on YouTube.  It’s easier to do YouTube than WordPress.  

But let me just tell you how thankful I am for my blog.

I have a horrible memory.  The only thing I remember about my last Camino trip was the pain I felt during the first two weeks.  And that’s it.  Painful as hell and not much else to tell.

I thought I made it to each check point in a timely manner regardless of the pain I felt, but I re-read my day 3 post from four years ago and I was already behind schedule.  Not only was I behind, but in major pain.  And I was too tired to even eat dinner.  It sounds like I was in worse shape back then than I am now.

This is day 5 and I’m supposed to be in Estella but my feets only made it to Cirauqui, a whole 14 kilometers behind schedule.

It has absolutely NOTHING to do with laziness.  I literally can’t walk anymore.  My Achilles’ tendon was starting to hurt and my muscles in my feet are tender to the touch.

I wanted to cry.  I wanted to know everyones secret as to why they’re having an easier time than me (not everyone, but most).

The bones in my feet ache.  My bones!

Dinner is at 7.  I have an hour and twenty minutes until then.  I’m at another albergue, on the top narrow bunk with no sides in case I fall.  Why did I crawl up here?  Am I nuts?  I could’ve had the bottom bunk but then I’d be on the same level as everyone else.  At least this way there’s some semblance of privacy.

The place I’m staying at now isn’t a regular stop in my guidebook, the one everyone else follows.  So there’s not many pilgrims here.  I counted only 3 others and none of them speak English.  It makes it kind of lonely especially after a hard day where I almost cried my eyes out.

Yesterday however, was great.  A fantastic day.  I still hurt but nothing too crazy and last night I had a large cervasa and shared a bottle of wine with a cute gay man from the UK who loves Game of Thrones as much as I do.  

In fact, everyday on the Camino was filled with fellow pilgrims who chatted me up, this is the first day where things are quiet.  I can see why others who speak English like to walk together.  It’s a little less scary.

And it IS scary when you’re in pain walking a path that seems to go on forever under the hot sun with no shade.  It’s unnerving.  

I don’t regret throwing away my boots.  A lump was starting to form on my left ankle from too much rubbing and my little baby toe was getting banged up pretty bad with the skin peeling off and everything.  

The bump is now gone and my baby toe is on the mend.  These $100 Keen Sandals are worth every penny.  

No matter how wonderful your footwear is, your feet will get sore no matter what.  But at least now I don’t have blisters.

Tomorrow I’m walking to Estrella and will most likely stop there.  That puts me a full day behind schedule.  I really hope I toughen up like I did last time.  At this time it feels like I’ll never toughen up.  It’s too impossible.  

My legs are a little less sore than they were two days ago when I had to stop at the monastery.  I couldn’t walk up and down the stairs back then.

I want to close my eyes and sleep.  I’m chilly.

This albergue is really neat.  This town is super old and beautiful.  Hold on, I’ll find a pic…

At first glance it looks run down and dilapidated but up close once you get in town and see the rock buildings up close, it’s something to behold.  

I don’t want to move…..

Alright, I’m going to lay a little bit more in my bunk and zone out until supper.  Tomorrow is day 6.  It should get easier after my short 14 km walk tomorrow.  Day 8 will be the day of truth, sink or swim.


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I’ve been up for 26 hours!

I’m going to attempt to post a video of St Jean Pied De Porte.  It’s easier keeping a video blog rather than type everything on my iPhone.  

Ugh, it’s taking forever to upload.  I’m so freaking tired.  And it’s chilly in my room. 

I want to go outside and collect my clothes from the line but there’s a bunch of pilgrims congregating near my humongous underwear.  I can’t let on that they’re mine.  I’ll be walking side by side with these people for the next 35 days.

But I want to sleep!  If I fall asleep now, I’ll forget my clothes are out there.  Or something worse will happen.  I don’t know what that something worse is.

I’m hiking 15 miles tomorrow all uphill.  Shits gonna suck.  

Screw it, I’m getting my clothes.  I hate being social but once I’m down there I’m inclined to introduce myself.  If I don’t they’ll only refer to me as “that girl with the humongous  underwear”.

“Did you see that girl with the humungous underwear today?”

“For a brief second before I strode past her, why?”

“She’s weird.”

“Yeah, that’s the rumor.  What’s her deal anyway?”

“Word on the street is that she see’s things in her poop.”

You know how sometimes after using the toilet, there’s what is known as a “streaker”?  It’s a streak that even a good hardy flush can’t erase.

My streak today was of a pilgrim walking.  She had the stick and a hat and everything.  I almost took a picture of it to post on Facebook but my better judgment said “fuck no, you crazy? Girl you fuckin’ stoopid crazy.”

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4 Days Until Camino

I leave for my trip in T minus 4 days.

My mind is in shambles.  I’m laying here in bed – so unbelievably fucking comfortable you have no idea.  I’m warm, I’m fed, I’m loved, my life is grand and wonderful these days; I’ve even spoken with my lawyer today about the lawsuit and he says the whole case is stupid.  Literally, he called it stupid.

Him – “It’s a straight forward simple case.  You did nothing wrong and there was no way to prevent any of it from happening.  If I were you, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.  You’ll be fine.”

I’ve never had a lawyer before and I’m sure they all say things like “it’ll be just fine” or “don’t worry about it” to their clients but in my case, it rings true.  There were literally no precautions or warning signs that I missed or could’ve foreshadowed.  It was all a roll of the dice.  Shit luck.

This was the first time he told me not to worry though.  Thanks buddy, you could’ve told me that sooner.  Before my mental breakdown and going through the 5 stages of grief hundreds of times over.

Anyhow, I’m truly loving my bed right now.  Oh God I love it.  I love Netflix.  I love doing nothing and this time of night (11pm) is the time I can get away with doing nothing.  I have a big plate of nothing all to myself.

So why’s my mind in shambles?

I had a long-ass summer.  It ended with me having to house sit two dogs and a cat for 10 days.  I just got home, when was it?  Yesterday?  I don’t know.  But during those 10 days I was up at the ass crack of dawn letting those dogs out to pee.  And at night, they had to sleep with me.  They taken up the whole bed to where I was sleeping horizontal on the mattress.  I’d wake up in the morning cranky as hell.  They’d wake me up with a paw to the face.

Both dogs like to lick.  They lick your face, your pants, your eyeballs, inside your mouth….etc.  One day as I was exiting the shower, I walked over to the bed where my clothes lay spewed out everywhere and there were the dogs on the bed with my clothes.  Both of them, at the same time, decided to lick my naked nipples.  Each of my nipples had a dog attached to it.

I felt so grossed out, I felt violated.  I just wanted to get dressed.  That’s all that I wanted.  But instead, there I was cold, wet, and had two dogs sucking at my teats.

I love home.  I love it so freaking much.  I want to stay here and hunker down for a while.  I want to be alone in a bunker.  But this can’t be, it’s not in the stars.  I leave in 4 days to go someplace opposite of being home, comfortable, well fed and feeling stunningly fantastic.  I’m going on a 35 day torture hike across Spain to lose weight.  To lose weight!  So I’m not one of the first to go during the zombie apocalypse.  I’d be able to run goddammit.

Whoever says it’s fun is full of shit.

I think I need to see a therapist.  I have a few friends who see therapists, so why shouldn’t I?  The major issue’s I want to address is my laziness and my lack of caring what people think of me.

Now, most people would say that that’s wonderful – it’s great and liberating to not care what others think but they’re wrong.  So way off the mark wrong.

Firstly, I don’t engage with people anymore.  I don’t care enough to engage with them.  I don’t care enough to, well, care about them.  Why?  Because I was a huge engager in the past and everyday the more I engaged, the more people expected it.  At the end of the day, none of it mattered.  No matter what I did, it was never permanently good enough and when it was good enough, the next day I had to be even better.

I went the other way.  It’s not that I don’t care exactly, it’s more like I stopped trying.  I don’t try with people anymore.  My office manager pointed this out to me last night over a few pints.  I pointed it out to myself about a month or so ago.

As far as the laziness goes…..”how the hell can you be lazy and walk across Spain then?”  Is what you’re thinking.  The thing with that is, laziness is a privilege.  Laziness is not just about laying around, it’s a mind-set.  It’s a mind-set of complete and utter ease.  No worries.  No responsibilities.  Just freedom of all problems.

My type of laziness, the kind I’m talking about, it’s my personal drug of choice.  And it’s addicting as hell.  It’s better than anything else out there on the market.  Not even beer can hold a candle to it.

Basically, I can’t be both fat and lazy.  They cancel each other out.  I won’t feel completely at ease again until I lose at least 25 pounds.  Hence, the Camino and why I have to walk it (again).

If everyone experienced the same type of laziness that I experience, everyone in the world would be their own boss, have a clean conscience and stay healthy.  Having a clean conscience also affects how well I can rest and relax.  All vexes must be aired out and all foibles on my part must be atoned for.

Delicious laziness to extreem.  Extreem power resting.  Angelic homeostasis.  Until I start trying with people and it all goes to shit when it’s never enough.  Best to stay under the radar.

I’d tell these things to my shrink but what good will it do?

Does everyone experience the same type of lazy bliss?  The same natural habitat of my resting mind?  It’s my home base.  The place I can always return to once all else is settled.  To take my bra off and let the pups lick my nips….no.  That’s disgusting.

But you know what I mean?  A place where I can’t be hurt.  Not by myself nor by any others.

I don’t think people grasp it the same way I do.  They either don’t get it or decided to live a lie – a lie they reason with as being their only viable option.

I downloaded 18 audiobooks for my 500 mile journey.  If the actual walk doesn’t change me, I’m sure one of those books will.  My goal is to want to try again with people.  But this time, I’ll make it enough for me and not care if it’s not enough for them.  That’ll be my emotional goal this time around but my main focus is losing 25 pounds.

I don’t need a therapist, just give me a pen and paper.


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It’s a beautiful Saturday at my homestead here in CT.  It’s exactly 12 noon and I just woke up via text which is the way I wake up most days (texts before noon don’t rouse me).

I got nothin’ to do.  Well, there’s always my hike up my big little mountain but I think I’ll take a day.  A day all to myself.  An Elder Scrolls online kind of day.  I have the faintest of blisters on the top of my baby toe from breaking in my new boots so I don’t think it’s wise to hike today.  Even though it doesn’t hurt like a regular blister, why irritate it?

Anyway, I should get to it.  My level is still so low.  I don’t even have a horse yet.

In the meantime, hurricane Irma is turning Florida into the end times.

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I had to buy a new pair of hiking boots goddammit.  Apparently I lost my arch from the last time I hiked the Camino and now my toes hit against the front of my boots.  If I walked the Camino wearing my old boots this time around, I’d have no toe nails left by the end of the trek.

It sucks.  Not only the spending money part, but buying and breaking in new boots specifically for a 500 mile walk is daunting.  My old boots were so comfy!  They were perfect!

And this my friends, is the height of my current problems.

I’m wearing them now, my new boots.

When I first took off my old boots to try on the new ones at REI, I was literally astonished.  “Holy crap they’re fantastic!  It feels like I’m giving my feet a drink of water!”

They felt lighter and even more comfortable than my old pair.

Me – “I probably don’t even need to break these in they’re so comfortable.”

My first hike was fine but when I went again the next day, the illusion shattered.  They’re a lot looser than they were on that first day hike.  Today I added an extra insole but now the tops of my toes on my left foot are getting scuffed.

I have crazy narrow feet.  They’re long and they’re narrow.  These boots are made for narrow feet but they haven’t seen the likes of mine before.

Tomorrow I’ll try again without that extra insole and make sure I lace them as tightly as they allow.  If that doesn’t work, my next move is to double up my socks.

But seriously, I can’t think of any other pressing problems other than that.

Well, there is one other problem……

Since I started listening to audiobooks about virtual reality MMORPG games, I went on ahead and bought myself one.  A MMORPG game, not virtual reality.  Elder Scrolls online.

I played for 2-days straight.  The last 2 days of my life were lost to that game.  And now that I’m back from my hike, all I can think about is playing that game.  I don’t care about anything else.

I’m supposed to call my friend today……yesterday I blew off 3 separate people all wanting to do something.  And alll I want to do is game.  This isn’t anything new, people are used to it but with this game in particular, there’s no end to it.  I can’t say I beat it and then shelf it and wait for the next one to come out months later, no.  This never ends.

It’s September 5th.  I leave for my trip on October 9th…I think it’s October 9th.

I’m not ready for it.  I’ve been hiking up my big little mountain non-stop to no avail, it’s not getting any easier.  I haven’t lost weight.  I’m not stronger.  Four years of working 70-hour weeks did this to me.  I find it hard to believe I haven’t lost anything yet.  When did my retirement from massage begin?  It has to be at least 3 months ago.  3 months of hiking every single day with no improvement?

I don’t know wtf’s going on with that but I’ll keep at it.  I’m pretty relentless when it comes to certain things.  Like leveling up my character.

Speaking of….

I have an idea that will make me more money but I don’t want to write about it now.  I’m losing daylight (game time).  I’ll save it for another day.  But an idea such as this, one that is actually doable on paper and doesn’t cost an arm or a leg, is so in-my-face stupid obvious I kick myself for not doing it sooner.  I guess it takes about 3 months to recoup from 4 years of hell and that’s why this idea is just becoming known to me now.  I was too stressed and too tired before now.

Anyway, I got to play my game.

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Life is a series of constant recoveries

I got home yesterday from a weekend bachelorette party.  Only one of us threw up, so it wasn’t anything too crazy but still, it was the best time ever.  I want everyday to be like that.

12 of us girls went up to New Hampshire.  I went up the day before to pick up Steph from the Boston airport so we can spend the day there before our New Hampshire exertion.

But her plane delayed by 12 hours so that left me with 12 hours to kill alone in Boston by the harbor on a beautiful day.  I walked 10 feet to get Chinese take-out and stayed in our shoddy hostel watching TV until the 12 hours ran out.

I have no right writing a blog.  I’m a closet bore.  I stopped caring or being curious about anything.

I’ll provide you another example of this;

There were 2 girls at the party that I wasn’t acquainted with.  In my younger years I would seek out people I didn’t know and be the first to strike up a conversation.  But now I’m too tired for anything new.  I contemplated this as I sat next to one of the unfamiliar women with no interest in learning anything about her.  I compared my new self to my old self and this was an unmistakeable difference.  One I couldn’t overlook.

Rational Brain – “What’s changed?  Why are you like this?”

Me – “I lost interest is all.”

The past 4 years of owning a business really has kicked my ass.  It’s a different type of ass-kicking than your regular job.  But I hate blaming it on that.  Like it’s not a valid enough excuse.  I have different habits and priorities now than when I was younger but can it really stem from business ownership?  Or has my laziness simply gotten worse?

Rational Brain – “Maybe you’re still recovering from busting your ass all those years?”


If that’s the case, than I’m in a cycle of continuous recovery.  Recovery from debt, weight gain, hangovers, lawsuits, broken hearts, strenuous exercise, loss, grief, stress……it never stops.

To help mitigate my plethora of recoveries, I’m planning on buying this in the near future:

It’s a Harley Davidson Tri Glide Ultra.  I’ve seen a bunch of them on the road lately and they all scream freedom.  Oh god I want one so bad.  It can change my life forever – change me as a person so I’m not always in “recovery” mode.  I’ll be in “life’s a blast no matter what” mode.

They say owning a motorcycle isn’t a hobby, it’s a lifestyle.  This trike will help me get through life in a certain style.  Who wouldn’t want that style?

Before I buy this bike, I’m still planning on buying an electric bike first for my cross-country trip.  I’m choosing an ebike first mostly due to the benefits of exercise and I’d rather not see my country from a highway perspective.  First ebike then tri bike.

When I get back home in November from walking the Camino, I have to be sure to keep the weight off and still work at the same time.  So I’m going to join cardio kickboxing near my house.  I have the place already picked out.  And I won’t stuff my face like I did last time I got back from my walk.  It’ll all be for nothing.

I’m not sure what’s worse, weight debt or money debt.  Weight debt is always in your face screaming at you from your closet full of clothes that don’t fit.  Money debt weighs on you differently.  It makes planning your future harder while weight debt is more in the present moment.

As of now, I hardly think about money debt anymore.  I’m affected more by the impending lawsuit than anything else really.  But I can’t recover from something until it’s actually over. It’s sort of hovering over my head, stealing my breath every time I think about it.

You can’t recover from something that’s ongoing and the lawsuit is the only problem I have that’s ongoing.  All other issues are being resolved or have already been resolved.

But I must say, this has been the best summer I’ve had in a long time despite the lawsuit pangs.

Before my trip to NH, I went up to RI with Jill, her mom, and our friend Andrew came up for the day to meet us.  I was the only one who threw up, so it wasn’t anything too crazy, but it was a good time.  This whole summer has been filled with good times.  I never want to go back to working 70 hour weeks and I won’t have to as long as I have my office manager.

I still can’t believe my plan actually worked.

According to this plan, I was to retire this month (August) but it happened a few months sooner.  I have not paid off my debt entirely and instead, retired a few months ahead of schedule.

I would like to pay off my debt when I get back from the Camino, but that’s no longer a priority.  My cross-country trip is my priority now.  I’m telling my financial planner to take out $1,600 a month starting in December and ending in June.  That’s when I’m leaving.  I’ll have almost $10,000 saved for it.  $5,000 of that money goes towards the bike itself and all the equipment I’ll need.  The other $5,000 is for motels and food which I doubt I’ll be needing that much, but I like to be prepared.  Whatever is left over goes towards paying my debt.


Aside from all that, I’ve gotten into audiobooks about video games.  This is a real thing, a new genre.

They’re not about Playstation or Xbox, they are about virtual reality games of the future.  MMORPG’s.  Open world role playing games in virtual reality.

I can NOT stop listening to them.  I love them more than any other genre known to man.  So much so that I want to write my own.

One guy wrote his own during his downtime and sold 5,000 copies on audible – possibly more.  People are pestering him about his third book asking when it’ll be released.

Author – “I do this in my free time.  I have no set schedule when it comes to writing so I don’t know.”

My head is already full of idea’s.  I want to write one because it’s fun, and not for recognition or money.  I really really want to write one.  None of my friends would have interest in reading it, but I don’t care.


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60 Times Around

The last time I walked the Camino, I cried on my first day.  That’s how hard it was.  The first day especially.

The 10th day was the hardest.  On the 10th day, I hit the wall from not getting enough protein.  I had to rest on the 10th day.  I literally couldn’t move.

I have to walk 25 kilometers on that first day.  Break that down into America’s language, that’s 15 miles.  One mile is 4 times around a track.  4 times 15 is 60.

It’s like walking 60 times around a standard track.  Yesterday I walked 12 times around so, 3 miles.  And my feet started to ache and my left knee cramped up.  On a technologically advance cushioned track with no ups or downs.

I did wear my ankle weights.  Only a pound and a half on each foot.

The thing about walking the track is the boredom.  I forgot how boring walking can be.  And since I already walked the Camino once already – I’ve seen all that stuff, it’s nothing new.  Which only compounds to the boredom I’ll have to face.  I’ll be in pain and I’ll be bored.  At the end of the day I can look forward to a bland simple dinner, not enough to satiate my hunger and on top of that, I’ll be bunking with 300 strangers in a dank gothic style church.  On that first day, there’s no shopping plaza’s or restaurants around for miles.

I have to pack more food.  Extra food for dinner and a little something for the following mornings breakfast – stuff I wish I knew the first time I walked.

15 miles equates to walking from my house to the middle of New Haven, possibly a little further than its middle. It’ll take me at least 8 hours.  It would take me 6 hours without breaks and if the path was completely flat.

I can’t believe I’m walking this shit again just to lose weight.  I hated it the first time.  I loathed it.

I’ve been keeping up with walking every single day.  My stomach looks like it’s slimming down, but I still weigh the same.  And my slim stomach may just be an optical illusion.  My pants don’t feel any looser.

Today I will attempt to hike up my big little mountain with my ankle weights on.  It’s going to be torture.

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Holy Shit I’m a Millennial

People constantly complain about Millennials not wanting to work but still expecting everything to be handed to them.  I never suspected I was one of these people until last night.

I don’t want to do anything.  I don’t want to work.  And I expect I will be taken care of, always.

But what happens if all Millennials are like me?  Who’s going to make our buttons?  Who’s going to sell me toilet paper?

The people who are stuck in debt and/or have to take care of a family.  Those people can make buttons and sell toilet paper.  I ain’t doing it.  It’s not for me.  I deserve better.

I’m a goddamned fucking Millennial.

I was born in 1980.  The tail end of generation X and the start of the new era of Millennials.  I got the best of both worlds.  Kids of generation X consisted of punks dressing up like homeless rockers and the girls dressed like farmers.  I dressed like a homeless farmer which I still do most days.

Gen X’s only culture is that of pop.  We basically have no other culture.  Our culture is fleeting and superficial.  Based purely on enjoyment, on looking cool.  Idolizing famous people simply because they are famous.  We are a generation without substance.  A generation that lacks any real hardships.  If you consider our holidays as culture and tradition, we are gifted presents on those days – presents we didn’t earn, but expect we’ll receive none-the-less.  We feel like we deserve them.  Are entitled to them.

Our parents come from a different era.  An era where if they didn’t work, they didn’t eat.  If their family grew in size, the husband would build an addition to the house himself.  Not expecting anyone else to do it for him.  And he’d take pride in it.

I believe my generation lacks pride.  Kids who grew up playing video games 24/7 and crying if they didn’t get a toy in their happy meal, how can they have pride?  They grow up soft and doughy, needing glasses from having their faces shoved in front of a computer screen all day.  They don’t care if they can’t lift a 2 by 4, someone else will do it for them.  They’ll call their Grand-pappy over to have them fix their plumbing problems or electrical work.

In our parents (possibly grandparents) generation, women weren’t treated equally in the job-force which in turn made them devout mothers and care-takers.  Our Dad’s brought home the bacon and our Mother’s served it to us on expensive plates ironically made in China.

If you broke a plate, you would get scolded.  Not like today where parents tell their kids, “don’t worry hun, it’s just a plate.”

Respect and appreciation for material possessions has plummeted.  That’s one key factor that give Millennials their attributes.  Their appreciation lies with what they don’t have.

Back in the day there were no cheap Walmarts, no GPS, no cell phones.  No franchises that cut labor costs.  A pair of shoes cost a weeks wages. We are a generation of Walmart shoppers who never get lost and all our friends live in our pockets via smart phone.  Have we ever known fear?

The best part of the day for a husband was dinner-time and the best part for the wife was afternoon soap-opera’s and putting the kids to bed.  Simple pleasures and a simple yet less convenient life.

The revolution started over a hundred years ago.  The womens suffrage movement which completely obliterated marriage as the sole means of survival for upcoming generations.  We’re a generation standing on that movement.  It’s our foundation.  We are born in freedom that we didn’t earn ourselves and we don’t know what to do with.  Divorce comes easier with each passing year.

We’re a generation expecting choice and freedom.  If something goes against our expectations (such as work), we get confused and don’t understand what we did wrong to deserve such hardships.  And since we’re not a prideful generation, we’re not above whining like spoiled doughy brats with ruddy cheeks and buggery noses.

And I’m one of them.  I’m a stupid lazy Millennial.  The only thing I have to contribute to the future of the world is my uterus which I refuse to do on accounts it will stifle my freedom and kick me back into the middle-ages of having to make buttons and sell toilet paper.


I’m going to be 50 in 12 years.  I just realized that today over lunch with a friend who will also turn 50 in 12 years.

The first 12 years of my life were monumental.  They lasted a lifetime.

Me thinking – “Wow I’m only 12 and I know so much already!  I’ll be a freaking genius by the time I’m 24!”

I remember thinking that when I was 12.

Little did I know that my brain would stop developing that year.

12 years ago I was 25.  I’m still that same 25 year old.  In fact, I’m still that same 12 year old.

Knowledge doesn’t accumulate.  It doesn’t double every 7 years like with a savings bond.  My question is why?  The first 12 years (not counting my 13th year since that’s the year hormones kick in), I learned everything I needed to know for the rest of my life.  I understood the basics of it.

All I’ve done since then is refine and enhance the knowledge I learned in my first 12 years of life.  The only thing I added was inches to my height.

It doesn’t have anything to do with how much I retain over the years.  It has more to do with values.  In those first 12 years, I established my values.

This is all my opinion, not backed up by science or surveys.  Read for entertainment purposes only.

I believe my entire personality, my true character is established solely on my values (maybe I learned this in psych class?  I don’t know).

And if my values were instilled in me by the tender age of 12, all the subsequent years that followed has either hardened my resolve or weakened my soul.  In other words, since my beliefs have already been established, they are either reinforced or broken down over the course of time since adolescence.

I believe (still, this is all conjecture), that we go through cycles of being broken down and built up again.  Like a spiral, the golden ratio.  When we start sucking our spirals back into ourselves like a strand of spaghetti, back to its origin – we break down.  But when we exhale it all out, like we’re giving, not receiving, we are essentially growing and strengthening our character.  Widening it enough to fit in more of the world.  Until that is, we get scared to death and have to suck it all back in again.


The older we get, the harder it is to break us.  Like a bone that’s already been broken, we’re harder to break the second time.  And because of this, we become less pliable, more set in our ways, afraid to venture outside protocol.  We lose our fascination and wonder because we’re too tired to break down our belief system yet again only to have to rebuild it once more.

Unsubstantiated pride is the glue that holds belief structures together.  But it doesn’t make us stronger, it makes us brittle.  Stubbornness equals brittleness unless the pride that binds has merit.

If my beliefs, my value’s, my personality and character were all imbued in me by the time I was 12, that also means that what I dream of most in life has also been determined.  My fascinations and curiosities were apart of me from the start.  Before I threw them overboard to the wretched urchins of the sea.

It’s our fascinations and curiosities that contain our unique gifts.  And because of their fragility, they are the first to go when life gets messy.  “Jettison all that is unnecessary for fear it will sink us.”

The generations that came before us, most of the people who lived in those times were tied to a repressed culture.  A culture in which they had to work in order to survive, their well deserving pride provided them with existential purpose.  They worked hard to figure out puzzling problems, knew how to read maps and stars.  They couldn’t refer to a YouTube channel on how to make the perfect turtle soup, they had to learn by trial and error.

They had to chop off the chickens head themselves, sort of speak (or literally).  A type of appreciation Millennials know nothing about.

These days, every answer we seek is a mouse click away.  Every inch of the world has already been mapped.  All the awesome idea’s ever fathomed can be admired on Pinterest while you tilt your head in envy and murmur, “I wish I thought of that.”

We might be the very first generation who got an applause for using the potty.  We get applauded for accomplishing small everyday necessities while not having to use our heads for life’s most intricate problems – we have Google and psychiatrists for that.  All the legal drugs at our fingertips accompanied by copious amounts of information that we didn’t work out ourselves.

There’s an answer for everything and it’s either in the form of a pill, or a YouTube video.

Millennials didn’t earn their stubbornness the good old fashioned way by trial and error.  They learn it from pop culture, they are swayed by the popular vote.  They go with whatever thought process is in style at the time.  They depend on others to tell them how to think or how to feel because they never had to work out problems on their own.  They value the information inside a computer more than they value their own judgment.  And this was infused in them before they turned 12.  The most crucial years for discovering individuality and purpose.

They’ll become brittle, weak adults with no heart in the marrow of their bones.  No merit infusing their belief system.

We’re sucking in that strand of spaghetti more than we’re expanding its reach.  We’re more likely to kill ourselves over feeling helpless and hopeless rather than take pride in what we already have or do.  How can we have pride if every 6-year old can earn a black belt simply by showing up for class and paying his dues on time?

Unsubstantiated pride is the blunder of todays youth.  And I’m sitting on my throne as the Mother Queen of all Millennials.

I was born lazy.  It taken me 2 long weeks passed my due date just to leave the womb.  And although I was 14 at the time the internet went global, it became the love of my life.  Almost as if I knew it was coming and I merely waited all the preceding years until its arrival.

I don’t think, I click.

I don’t create, I copy.

I don’t cut off the proverbial chickens head myself, my mom buys Purdue at the grocery store.  And the chickens of the future won’t even have heads.

You don’t have to expend your energy by judging or hating me for any of this, I already hate and judge myself.


Everyone is born with a gift.  Everyone’s life embodies Joseph Campbell’s philosophical story map.  The same map that every story ever told has used.

This image is where I got the idea for the spiral I mentioned earlier.  Constant change and constant adaptions that spiral out and build off the old.  In my depiction of it, you’ll never arrive back where you started, it’s never a full circle.  Eventually the Hero gets tired and decides to plop down once and for all.  He’s done, he’s had it.  Enough bullshit.


I drank coffee today.  You see what happens when I drink coffee?  Almost 2000 words, that’s what happens.  The majority of it gibberish.

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