I dreamed about Bolivia for the first time in a long time last night. I miss my patria. Going to Nicaragua so often makes me guilty. Like perhaps I'm cheating on my true love. Also, Judy is asking me to visit, and I would love to be in Cocha again. Maybe a trip to the homeland is in order next year.
My camera died on me this weekend. Just quit. Thank you Jesus that it was at the end of a wedding, and not the beginning or middle.
I am always fighting off insecurity it seems.
BTW, during the same wedding in which my camera died, I hopped up on a ledge to get a better angle and belatedly realized I was 12 stories off the ground on a ledge. It still makes my palms tingle.
I'm thinking a lot about gossip lately and how much I do it, and how much it goes on around me. Need to read me some Proverbs.
Ryan got an orange mohawk and ran the Tough Mudder. I like the mohawk. I'm a little terrified that he's going to turn into one of the running addicts around us at BRCC. He's under strict orders to not. even. think. about it. We shall see.
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