Climbed Yr Wyddfa. 1085 m.

Ass tired.

It was a proper Patton death march, and I was cracking the whip! I was the first to make it to the summit, and I took a picture of my terrified brother as he clung to the monument in gale force winds. As my father said, we like to take on routes that are a bit beyond what would probably be reasonable or prudent. Ah, but we love it. My parents kept muttering under their breath that their daughter has taken up hiking, and when did this happen. I just smiled. I actually took it quite easy - walking with my aunt quite a bit both going up and down. Damn, it was fun shit though. We earned our pints. Mm, ale.

I worry that my friends are all going to murder me for my nonchalance. Hm, yeah. I think they just might. One of my friends is supremely stressed out right now, and I feel really bad (not to mention ineffectual) because I've probably been contributing to her anxiety. She's worried about room draw, but I'm sure my none-too-great sex stuff has helped much. While I know I'm flippant about the sex issue, I'm absolutely flamingly could care less about room draw. Room draw is drowning in the cold, black waters of my apathy. Put me in a cardboard box! Let me live in a tent on the lawn! I do not care!

I cared last year, which is the bad thing. I can claim no high ground (not that that's really my style, though). Sometimes I feel a bit evilly impatient with her. Well, I am going to hell.

See, life would be so much easier for all involved if they played my way. I have it alllll figured out, no?

2003-04-13, mm, ale, also shoot me now

before / after

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