The last time we went backpacking it was in the woods. That was physically intense. This trip will probably just be mentally exhausting. Also maybe physically, but at least we won't be climbing uphill for twelve miles with unfairly distributed camping supplies on our backs.
I bought a journal for our trip. I've always wanted to own a heavenly smelling leather journal. Now I dooooo! It has an owl stamped on the front of it, which is cute and does not remind me of how creepy real-life birds are.
Once I worked as a park ranger. That job wasn't great because the stuff was heavy and I am not strong or large, plus I had to do things like plant trees (not fun for six hour stretches) and rip down vines and pull up weeds. I got to hike some, which was fun, but it was weird to be completely alone in the woods. It wasn't even really peaceful, I was a little paranoid something was going to sneak up on me in the vast quiet space. Anyway, it's related because one of the many jobs I was hired to complete but would NEVER do was feed the owls. Yup. The first day I learned that, I looked straight at my boss (his name is Travis and he is so so nice. I was actually hired to sit and talk to him all day.) and laughed and told him there was no way in hell I was going to grab up dead mice in my bare hands and walk into a pen full of birds and set their dinner down. Especially not after watching them fly at his own head. That job actually asked me back the following summer. I must have been awfully fun to talk to, which seems unlikely.
The summer before college we went to New Jersey with our friend Bee. We went to this theme park on the boardwalk and there was a Haunted House ride that we decided to go on. Once in the dark house (designed for three year olds) we decided to get panicky and scared and proceeded to clutch each other and scream, actually, truly scream, the Wells Fargo Wagon song from The Music Man with our eyes resolutely shut. We could even hear the employees howling with laughter but we did not care. Bee took a picture of us coming out of the ride because the people of the boardwalk could hear our terrified singing/shrieking. I wish I could find it and scan it, it's hilarious.
We don't fight. Like, ever. I think once we got frustrated in New York and argued a tiny bit, but even then it's fuzzy. I hope we don't start fighting in Europe, but it doesn't really seem like either of our personalities. We've talked about how there will just be some days when we're not talkative. There should be enough cool shit to look at and experience that it's not really an issue.
Actually, at a Nats game in July she was quite frustrated that I said she had brown eyes when in fact she has hazel. Troublemaker.
I'm not obsessed with Julie, but she's one of my only close friends from high school that I see and want to see on a regular basis. She's teaching me to ride a bike tomorrow afternoon, but I'm not sure how that's going to go. I feel like at age 22 there isn't much instruction involved in activities such as bike riding. I really just need to sit on the damn thing and fall off it enough times that I figure out the balance and can get moving. Trial and error learning at its finest. I probably should be more embarrassed that I can't ride a bike, but I'm really not. I just have to learn. I bought a purple one. I want to understand how gears work, they seem fascinating. It's hard to be embarrassed around someone that has stood "guard" while you pooped in the woods. And vice versa.