C2ShiningC, Mexico style!

Mexico, amigos.

This is going to be another quick blog but I just want to make a quick update on my current status. I'm in fucking Mexico, that's my status!

I'm literally laying in my bed listening to the Pacific ocean splash against the shore, buzzed off of Mexican beer and tequila. My CouchSurfing host is true grit - still working out how to get along with him comfortably, but he's nice enough - he even picked me up on his Harley State-side and drove me around downtown Tijuana before bringing me back to his place.

To be exact, I'm in a part of town called Playas de Tijuana, which, as the name implies, is along the coast and slightly to the west of all the hookers and craziness that is la ciudad de Tijuana.

An Israeli traveler is also staying here, and the three of us went down to a coffee shop in the neighborhood. This place reminds me of Roatan, Honduras very much (the island of sunny beaches and shady people), but a much nicer version of it. There's a beautiful boardwalk with cafes, bars, and beach-dwellers. I've seen couples making out right on the street and I've seen parents walking their two-year old kids after midnight. There are beautiful women everywhere, and all I had to do was say "I play the saxophone too" to a band member at a cafe for us to break into a long conversation about music, Mexico, and travel.

I was stranded for three nights in a row before arriving here, standing in 100+ degree heat, sleeping under bridges (don't worry mom!), and all sorts of other craziness, but I wouldn't take any of it back. The hard times make you appreciate the good ones all the more and I can confidently tell y'all that I earned this little slice of paradise!

There's a lot I can say about where I am, and more importantly what I've been through to get here. I'm not even at my final destination yet, but as I listen to the waves of the Pacific not 20 meters from my window I know that I've made it as far west as I'm going to go. It's been a month and a day since I started this shit and what a journey it's been.

More to come in the days and weeks to come, but from Playas de Tijuana, I'm signing out!

#C2ShiningC

Greetings from California

I know it's been a while since my last post and I have loads to write about but this is just going to be a quick update to let y'all know that I'm alive and well!

Had some difficulties getting to Las Vegas - more so than you would expect for a straight-shot road - so I had to forget about that and continue on! I just crossed into California via I-15, which will take me all the way j to San Diego where I'll be picked up and taken into Tijuana, Mexico (hopefully by my CouchSurfing host and not some coyote)!

I'll post more of the details about Salt Lake, my failed (yet exciting) trek to Vegas, and whatever comes next!

Here's Hugo de Guatemala (no Mexico!) looking at the full moon in Utah.

Signing out!

Colorful Colorado!

In a nutshell, that's Fortoberfest, paranormal activity, elk butt-licking, and one Willard Mittens Romney! In the past five days I've done more than any other five day period on my trip so far. So as usual, I have no idea where to begin.

Let's start with New Mexico.

Before even making it to Emily's place up in Loveland, Colorado (about one hour north of Denver), I spent a couple nights in Santa Fe where I had a GREAT time! Got a really cool vibe from the people in New Mexico in general, but there was just something in the air in Santa Fe that makes me want to return on my way back. I stayed with a CouchSurfing host who was born and raised in the city and therefore knew all the best places to go. Joe was a dog, and he took me out on the town where I was able to witness his smooth attempts at picking up women. I've never been much good at that sort of thing so I just sat back and enjoyed watching him do his thang.

Womanizing aside, Joe was an excellent host. The first night I arrived he took me out to his neighborhood bar, where I met other hitchhikers and travelers. They were happy to see a young man like myself have such a spirit of adventure and bought me all of my drinks for the night. Santa Fe is about 1000 feet higher than El Paso, where I started in the morning, so the beers had an extra kick because of the altitude. I was plenty drunk by the end of the night, and all I gotta say is that I'm glad I didn't publish my drunk blog post that I wrote that night...

Me partying with Joe and his beautiful dog, Tally Ho.

Joe had to work so he couldn't show me around town, but he lent me his bike and I discovered it myself. I visited two famous churches: the St. Francis Cathedral Basilica (one of the oldest in the new world) and the Loretto Chapel, home of the Miracle Staircase (google it). I also hit up the Georgia O'Keeffe museum of art. I didn't know who Georgia O'Keeffe, but my drivers as far as Midland, Texas told me that if I'm visiting Santa Fe I need to check out that museum. O'Keeffe, I discovered, is a pretty famous artist known for her landscape works. Having just seen much of the landscape hitching through the desert, I really enjoyed viewing her sometimes abstract depictions of it! Contrary to what many critics say, O'Keeffe's work should NOT be viewed with a Freudian analysis...

Leaving Santa Fe was nothing. Joe left me by the highway and within two minutes I got a ride. I was hungover and didn't feel like working for a conversation, but as luck would have it my driver was simply the chillest human being on the planet. We talked about New Mexico, drinking, some politics, all very effortlessly.

I was dropped off in Las Vegas (different Las Vegas) where I was stuck for over two hours. Eventually a man took me 20 miles down the road and left me even further in the middle of nowhere. I thought I was screwed, but within a couple minutes the miracle ride showed up: a man driving over 200 miles all the way to Denver, Colorado!

Christino was a talker, which was alright because he had a LOT of interesting things to say and I hung onto his every word. He told me all about New Mexico's history, how the conception is that Spanish conquistadors settled the land when in fact most of the first settlers were third or fourth generation MEXICAN Spaniards. He was an old man, but he told me about his days as a hippy fighting in the Chicano Movement (sort of like the Blank Panthers for Mexican Americans). I also learned that he had a friend who worked in the U.S. embassy in the Dominican Republic, where my mother was the deputy chief of mission for three years! He received two phone calls on the drive where he would excitedly tell the other person, "you'll never guess where this guy's mom worked!"

I really wish I could've rode with him all the way to Denver, but in Trinidad, Colorado (a few hours away), the man's teeth fell out and he had to turn around. "Shit, I had Broncos tickets... sorry, kid." After a ride with an ex-felon (several times over), a Mormon, and just a regular guy named Steve, I was waiting to be picked up in Loveland, Colorado by my friend, Emily!

I've been kickin it with Emily for the last few days, during which time we have done a lot of cool things! First we checked out Fortoberfest, a celebration of Fort Collins culture, namely beer, bicycling, and bands. We ordered a few drinks, listened to the music, and rode one of those bikes that's suppose to have a keg in the middle (this one didn't). A video of the biking, beering, and banding can be found here: http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10151028949307331 (it should be public, but let me know if it's blocked for some reason). Emily even talked me into buying a sweet cowboy hat at the event, which I'm going to rock all across the country ;)

Emily and I drinking with Avery the Squirrel

That evening we watched Stanley Kubrick's version of The Shining because the next day we visited the Stanley Hotel in Estes Park, Colorado, which was the inspiration for the book. It was my first time seeing the movie and it was awesomely chilling (especially because we were drinking blood-red wine while we watched it)! The next day at the Stanley Hotel I didn't know what to expect. First, I got to witness the beautiful scenery on the drive up. I was awestruck by the mountains, and any concerns I had in life at that moment were whisked away by the mountain air. At the hotel Emily and I took the tour feeling very lightheaded (we were now at over 7000 ft altitude). I took the tour with no expectations, which was good because I quickly learned that the Stanley Hotel is popular destination for ghost hunters and believers in paranormal activity (aka those-who-fuck-not).

Our guide was an excellent story teller and she really brought to life the history of the hotel, from it's first owners, to Steven King's experience there, to Jim Carey storming out out of fear. I just sort of gave her skeptical glares when she'd talk about orbs and ghosts, but still enjoyed her storytelling.

Near the end of the tour she took us to a hallway where supposed children ghosts like to chill. She asked two of the kids in our group to take a seat and hold out their hands, where she placed two lolly pops. After a few minutes of her calling for the ghost children to come out and play, we all watched (some with amazement, some with skepticism) as the lolly pop in one of the kid's hand began to stand upright. "There's no magnets here," said our guide, and told us an anecdote about one tour member insisted that she unwrap the lolly pop to prove that there was no gimmick going on. I'll admit, I saw the lolly pop stand upright, but unlike most, if not all, of the people in the hallway, I walked away from that experience just as unconvinced and skeptical as I was before.

Here's our guide, the kid, and the child ghost. More pictures are on Facebook.

Emily and I grabbed lunch in a place with an absolutely GORGEOUS mountain view, then drove an hour and a half to Denver to check out Ol' Wilbur Mitholomew Romney do some campaigning.

Oh, we saw a bunch of elk's along the way. There was one male and a whole lot of females. The male elk was licking the female elk's butt sometimes.

Elk porn

Anyway, Mitt Romney!

So we made it to Denver and waiting in line to enter the event. Emily decided ahead of time that she would simply pretend to be Republican (going as far as cheering for fucking Coors when he was mentioned in a speech), but I just went to witness democracy in action (don't laugh). All told, it was a pretty interesting night, but not as thought provoking as I thought it would be. I sort of thought Mitt Romney would use the opportunity of talking to his base to debunk some of the criticisms that have been thrown his way in recent weeks, but he didn't sound any different than the same ol' Mitt Romney I've been hearing and seeing on CNN. I heard no specifics, and in the 45 minutes or so that he spoke it was mostly how the U.S. is worse off than it was four years ago and a lot of "American exceptional-ism" shit that you'd hear from the other side too. Most of his time was spent telling American success stories like the creation of Jimmy Johns ("and you know he built it!").

Although he didn't impress me, and I didn't think that he would, his speech did contain some powerful moments. Nothing Republican-exclusive, just general points about America after 9/11, and the importance of young people in this next election. I almost booed him when he said that we need to "put our kids and our teachers first and our teachers unions behind," and I had to just shake my head when he said that Barack Obama wants to "impose unions" on small businesses. All told, there weren't a whole lot of facts in his speech and most of his time was spent warming the heart of the crowd. Still, it was an interesting experience. If Obama has a rally in one of my next destinations I'll make every effort to go.

He looks just as stiff 200ft away as he does on TV.

I know this has been one of my longer posts so I hope you guys enjoyed it. I'm getting pretty darn good at this hitchin thing and I'm having a fantastic time! Tomorrow I'm off to Salt Lake City, then Las Vegas, down to Tijuana, and up to San Francisco where I'll stay for a few days.

From Loveland, Colorado, I'm signing out!

My driver's teeth fell out in front of me.

He picked me up in the middle of nowhere and was driving over 200 miles in my direction. But alas, when we stopped for food and he took a big bite out of his McDonald's sandwich I witnessed a moment of confusion, then panic on his face. He then held out his hands and a set of dentures broken in half fell into them. "I'm going to have to turn around," he said. "Shit, I had Broncos tickets..."

This is going to have to be a short blog because I'm about to go out to lunch with my friend Emily, but I wanted to let the world know that I am alive and well! (very well!) I'll post more of the details later but I had an excellent CouchSurfing host in Santa Fe, where I spent two nights, and very much discovered the higher-altitude night life.

I'm in Loveland, Colorado right now, about an hour north of Denver, where I'll stay for the weekend and kick it with Emily!

Signin out.

"Get a job, queer!"

That was the rather enlightening comment I received in Midland, Texas from a dickless douchbag yelling out of his truck as he passed me on the side of the road. I just kind of stared at him as he passed, not really registering what had just happened but now that I've had a moment to process it there's a couple things I'd like to say.

First of all, I have a job. It's called being awesome full-time.

Secondly, I'm not so sure the "queer" part of that comment was necessary. Ok, yes, I've been spending so much time in the sun lately that my hair has turned at least three shades blonder, making it look like I recieved highlights recently. Add the fact that I smile at all the drivers and give them a big friendly wave when they make eye contact with me and sure, I can understand how all that could look a little gay.

Also I do occationally sing and dance to artists such as Adele and Jack Johnson while I'm waiting for vehicles, but still! The bigotry...

Not two cars after "get a job, queer," I got my first middle finger (surprising that it took three weeks to happen), giving me the brief impression that people from west Texas are just a bunch of assholes. I say brief because only ten minutes later a car stopped and handed me a McDonald's bag with a Quarter Pounder with Cheese and a large fry so we cool west Texas.

I was happy when a trucker stopped and took me 50 miles away from heckler avenue. Twenty minutes after that I secured a ride with an El Paso Mexican who took me 260 miles through the desert and into my destination (like a boss). Now I'm sippin on Shiner Bocks at my CouchSurfing hosts house here in El Paso, Texas.

I just skipped over an entire day so let me backtrack a little bit.

I left Arlington, Texas for Midland, Texas, a city named because of its location between El Paso and Dallas. My trip to Midland had its ups and downs. First, there was the hot, hot, dear god holy moly HOT Latina girl who picked me up on a road I wouldn't expect anyone to pick me up on. It was a fast and busy entrance ramp, and cars zoomed by without even looking over at me. When I asked her why she even stopped for me she said that she'd want someone to if she were in my position.

She was my age, strapped with a pistol, street smart as all hell, and did I mention hot?  She took me 40 miles down the road on the way to work and dropped me off on a much better road than where she picked me up.

Soon after Steven took me halfway to my destination. Steven's ride was a down moment of my journey. It started off alright with us entering a very interesting conversation about healthcare for the elderly, how the world has changed since the great depression (he owned a nursing home), and life in west Texas. All was well for about an hour and a half, but in the last half hour of the ride I noticed that he was stroking his thy while he was talking with me, seemingly unconciously. No reason to panic, I thought, and continued chatting only slightly disturbed by the thy-stroking. When he asked, "what do you do about sex?" out of the blue, red flags went up in my head. I rolled my eyes, laughed, and told him that I did alright (I'm paraphrasing), then I looked out the window in a clear end-of-conversation kind of way. A little later he said something that raised another red flag. He was a Texan but he absolutely hated how all Texans needed to have a big truck, he said. "I don't need a truck, I have a big dick!" Ok, now I'm bothered by this guy. I happen to agree with his big truck, small dick comment but that whole thy-stroking thing put me on alert mode.

Obviously nothing happened, and although I was on high alert for the last thirty minutes of the ride I didn't feel nervous. For one, I felt in control of the conversation. Also I had a rape whistle, pepper spray, and two knives, all of which I was ready and willing to use if this creep tried anything. I hopped out of the vehicle in Abilene, about halfway to my destination and had a Denny's luch.

My next ride was a pickup truck, which was AWESOME! Best part about pickups is that you get to zoom past all the fuckers who gave you dirty looks. I listened to my iPod as my driver sped at 80 miles an hour past everyone on the road and couldn't help by laugh myself silly.

I hopped out of the pickup in Midland, small talked with my driver a bit (he offered me a job as an electrician), then called my CouchSurfing host up and was picked up within minutes.

Lots I could say about Randall, my host (the toilet paper at his house was even softer than at my gay host's house), but I feel I've rambled on for long enough already.

I'm in El Paso, heading to Santa Fe tomorrow, and by Friday I'll be chilling with Emily up in Loveland Colorado!

From the U.S.-Mexico border, estoy signing out!

In a truck heading in the direction of...

A Mexican told me that I looked like a Mexican.

He said he thought I was a Mexican because of my facial hair and -- and this is the fucked up part -- because I was standing on the side of the road. Roberto was my second illegal immigrant driver (one more in the state of Texas and I win a free taco!)

 Ok, that was messed up...

After recuperating in Huntsville for almost a week with my high school friend from the Dominican Republic, I hit the road again on a week-long journey to Loveland, Colorado! Seeing Aida again was really great! She was so easy to talk to and definitely gave me the full Huntsville experience. She took me to a dance club called Shenanigans that felt very Texan. First the place was filled with cowboys and cowgirls (all ready to party). When Copperhead Road, a famous country song by Steve Earle played nearly everyone in the club rushed to the dance floor to do the Copperhead Road line dance. The energy in the room was amazing, and now I can't listen to that song without hear the chorus of hundreds of boots stomping in unison!

I spent almost a week in Huntsville, but the time flew by so quickly that it all feels like I just arrived yesterday. Thanks again, Aida, and I hope to see you again soon!

I left Aida's apartment by 11:20 (a late start) and began to walk to the highway. Two miles later I was there, but Texas is filled with annoying side roads that run parallel to the interstate. I had to walk another mile or so just to get to a decent entrance ramp. I waited three hours, taking a break for lunch at McDonald's, before getting picked up by Roberto.

He was going to Dallas, but he went out of his way to take me to my CouchSurfing host's place in Arlington, TX. I made it to my destination in a single shot :)

On the road he told me his story. Unlike my first illegal immigrant driver who crossed the desert into Arizona (passing dead bodies as he went), Roberto paid a coyote to take him across. He was a very resourceful man and his English was excellent despite coming into the United States without speaking a word of it or taking any classes. I was amazed that he sped on the highway, up to 90 miles per hour in a 75 zone, but he would slam on the brakes whenever he spotted a cop or his radar detector started to beep. We talked about Mexico, life in the U.S., women, and sometimes we just sat there in silence (without it being awkward in the slightest!). So far my Latino drivers (legal immigrants and illegal alike), have been some of the easiest to talk to. Or not talk to if all I wanted to do was stare at the country passing outside the vehicle.

I'm currently here in Arlington with a CouchSurfing host who has THE softest toilet paper. We've been playing Mario Kart, watching movies, drinking beer, and just kickin it! And yes, Angeline, I do kind of wish we built a fort and watched Lord of the Rings, he's that kind of guy.

Tomorrow Midland, Texas, then El Paso, then North to Santa Fe, New Mexico and Loveland, Colorado to see my friend Emily!

Signin out!

Texas...

"You smell like gay"

Actually it was a combination of sunscreen and bug spray, which I guess makes me smell "like gay" in Mississippi.

As usual, I have no idea where to begin. Every car I get into can be a long and detailed story all by itself so I'll have to gloss over some of the details. When I left off last time I was kickin it with my parents in Miami. From there I took a bus to Crystal River up in central Florida to see my Aunt, Uncle, and three cousins. After a night of beer, Jeff Dunham, and tickling my youngest cousin to sleep, I was driven to I-75 by my Aunt in the morning.

Within an hour of waiting along I-75, a trucker transporting vehicles pulled over. He hopped out of the cab, handed me a key to a Lexus SUV and told me to go ahead and listen to the radio, turn the A/C on, just don't put it in gear. John, the trucker, looked legit, so I climbed the truck and hopped in! After having a giggling fit for a good half hour (a video of which I posted to Facebook), I calmed down a bit and just enjoyed the ride. Most of the drivers that passed either looked dumbfounded that this kid was chilling in a Lexus in the back of a truck or gave me a big smile and thumbs up. One woman tried to signal to me that hitchhiking was suicide, and to be honest if I had gotten in HER vehicle it probably would have been. John, however, was an incredibly nice man who helped me out tremendously and in no way made any effort to kill me.

About 100 miles up I-75 I was dropped off at the intersection with I-10, a highway that goes all the way to California and the road I would take almost all the way to my destination in Huntsville, Texas. In under an hour another trucker transporting vehicles stopped for me (this time I sat up front in the cab). Geno was by far the kindest driver I've had to date. The great-grandson of a slave from Mississippi, Geno had a soft and take-it-as-it-comes way about him. He was transporting cars for Hertz to New Orleans and would pass right through my stop for the day at Pensacola, Florida. He was easy to talk to, always had a big smile, and shared fascinating stories about his family's upbringing.

In Pensacola I walked over to the nearest Waffle House and called Gerald, my CouchSurfing host I contacted the night before. An hour later I was taking a shower and getting ready for Harry Potter trivia night at the local bar in town! All told, my Crystal River to Pensacola trip was incredibly smooth and exciting. Unfortunately, this gave me higher expectations for the next day, when I would try to make it all the way to Huntsville, TX.

Gerald dropped me off where he picked me up along I-10. For three hours I waited along the entrance ramp watching driver after driver give me dirty looks as they passed. I'm not sure why they gave me dirty looks, as I was experiencing a huge boost in spirits from my luck the night before and therefore looked incredibly happy standing on the side of the road. Eventually a man from Alabama took me 15 miles down the road (which I happily took just to get out of that spot!). About 30 minutes after being dropped off I got a ride in the back of a pickup truck for another 30-odd miles! That was a lot of fun :)

I was left at a busy truck-stop, however I still needed to wait over two and a half hours before getting a ride (and not a far one at that). He was a hairstylist from Mobile, Alabama, and within five minutes of being in the car he pulled out a chillum and was offering me a hit. I took one (just one), and watched the sun set in beautiful Bama. He dropped me off about 15 miles from the Mississippi border, where I ran into another traveller.

I didn't get his name, but he claimed to be stranded on-route to Pensacola (where I started out from). I gave him a couple bucks for food, then left to walk over to the entrance ramp on I-10. I was in the ideal spot to catch a ride: slow entrance ramp with a lot of traffic, truck stop nearby, but I just wasn't having the same luck I had yesterday. I waited four hours for a ride, listening to Harry Potter on audiobook while I waited. Eventually I got taken 15 miles down the road into Mississippi by Mr. "smell like gay."

He claimed to be a Mason, a secret society that does various charitable acts and supposedly influenced the way our country was founded. I was deeply skeptical, but he showed me the ring and his tone of voice told me that at least HE believed what he was saying. Before I got out he told me about an excellent church I could attend if I was ever in Mississippi again (not likely) and wished me luck.

I needed luck at this point. In the 12 hours of hitching I only made it about 85 miles from Pensacola (versus the 370 I made the day before). I was tired, and for the first time I felt frustrated with hitching. Even when I waited seven hours trying to catch a ride to St. Louis, hitching was new and exciting and I didn't mind that much. Now I definitely felt a sense of "just fucking get me there already." I started thinking about where I could sleep for the night while waiting on the entrance ramp when all the sudden the miracle ride arrived!

I could see a Mexican man behind the wheel, a white woman in the passenger seat, and two teenage girls in the back. They were making a midnight ride all the way to, as luck would have it, Houston, Texas, a city just an hour south of Huntsville! The woman in the front explained where they were going, told me that her daughters were a little nervous about picking up a hitchhiker, but that they wouldn't mind helping me out. I hoped in, unable to believe my luck. In the car I found out that the driver was not, as I originally assumed, the father of the girls in the back, but rather a "complicated" friend of the woman. I didn't want to inquire what that meant exactly, but I found out anyway shortly after. He was an illegal immigrant. He had no papers and no drivers license, yet here he was driving this single mother and her daughters from Atlanta to Houston.

The woman was a nurse (a nice one at that), who was in a relationship with the man. Francisco, the driver, spoke little English, but had an incredible story. He came to the United States three years ago through the desert in Arizona, walking past the bodies of those before him who died from starvation or dehydration. He spoke in Spanish and he told me that he knew he could've been just like those who died in the dessert.

Well, I know this a bad point to interrupt the story, but my friend just got home from class so I'm going to get off the computer now. I'll post the rest soon!

From Huntsville, Texas, I'm signin out!


 ...
 ...
 ...


And Aida's off to class so I'm back

Anyway, back to Francisco. He was a decent driver, but maybe a little reckless. If I were him, I wouldn't have driven a single mile over the speed limit, but he drove 5-10 miles over. I offered to take the wheel, but everyone in the car assured me that he'd be ok. I was a little nervous, but he did work as a truck driver at one point (god knows how) and I made sure to buy him a coffee after it got late.

When I jumped in the car the woman (Lisa) took the back seat with her daughters and gave me the front. At midnight I learned that Lisa just had a birthday. I bought her Hostess' Cup Cakes at the next gas stop, in light of not having access to real cake. This really cheered her up. We drove all through Mississippi, Louisiana -- I got to see the Super Dome for the first time! -- and all the way into Texas!

I asked to be dropped off before Huston (I don't remember the name of the town), and started walking looking for a place to sleep. Usually I can find a secluded place near the highway to set up my hammock or pull out my sleeping bag, but at this spot there were only houses. It was past four in the morning and I didn't want to be caught trespassing on someones property, especially in Texas. I walked for at least a mile looking for a place but there were only more houses. I turned around and headed back to the truck stop near the exit. Around five in the morning I sat down on a bench, closed my eyes, and soon I was asleep.

I woke up to a man speaking "at" me. He told me he likes to come down and talk to the hobos (he looked like one himself) and immediately went into his life story, which, frankly, I didn't care to hear first thing in the morning. He was a nice enough guy, and after I made sense of what was happening around me we talked about my travels a bit. He gave me some advice on catching rides at bus stops, which I later not use.

It was September 11, and I watched the memorial service on CNN while eating a hardy Denny's Breakfast. I was tired, but I got enough sleep in the car and on the bench to get me through the day. Turns out Texas is a BRILLIANT state for catching rides, and I'd make it to Huntsville in no time.

After only two rides, a lunch break with one of my drivers at "Simply Country" (I ordered "the lunch"),  I was in Livingston, Texas, only 30 miles from Huntsville. I called Aida, my friend from Huntsville, who said she could pick me up there. Tommy, my driver, and I stopped at an American Legion post to have a couple beers while we waited, as he was a member of the Son's of the American Legion. I was tired, but the excitement of making it to my destination trumped my exhaustion.

I'll be resting here in Huntsville for a few days, doing a LOT of relaxing. I'll admit that my trip to Texas burnt me out a little bit, making me feel like I'll need to add something in my daily regiment to keep my mind limber on my trek to San Francisco.

Again, there's too many details that I simply had to exclude in order to not make this post as long as my senior thesis, so I'm sorry if it all sounds a little glossed over! This blog has gotten over 350 views since I started, so thank you guys so much for reading! I do feel some self-induced pressure to add some literary flair to my writing, but I don't have any of that shit so y'all are just going to get it raw.

I'll sign out by saying this trip has really been changing my perspective on life. Hitching is an excellent way to escape your comfort zone and talk to people you'd normally never interact with in your entire life. I've had challenges, some expected and some unexpected (like fucking repellant-resistant Bama-ants), but I've also experienced unimaginable hospitality and kindness from total strangers. My listening and people skills have reached a new high and without a doubt I'm learning to appreciate the little comforts in life. I acknowledge that there's risk in what I'm doing, but to all the nay-sayers of hitchhiking I feel compelled to say this: my faith in humanity has only gotten stronger. People are generally good, and Michelle Obama has firm arms :)

Signing out!

Aida took this in Livingston.

Quick update: Here are the links to the videos I posted on Facebook.

In a Lexus in the back of a truck: http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10151013835302331

In a pickup truck in Bama: http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10151015245957331