I make weird faces at myself in the mirror. It's a quirky little habit that I picked up somewhere in my lifetime. Pursed lips, puffed cheeks, flipped tongue, squinted eyes. All kinds of nonsensical expressions. I've recently noticed I do it on Skype too, so if you ever have the privilege of video chatting with me, watch out for it.
So when Jacob, an Australian who invited me in to a game of euchre, started making strange faces at me throughout the game I was an equal match. It may have just been a tactic to distract me from my...
Perhaps boarding a bus for an all day tour is not the smartest idea when you were out until 4am drinking and had to wake up at 5:30 after approximately zero hours of sleep (for another record: if you tell a 21 year old he can sleep in your bed but that you really just want to sleep he will not listen and you will spend the next hour and a half kicking him away) was a bad idea.
But we all wanted to go on the DMZ tour, so off we went.
We drank a lot of beer. Too much.
We ate a lot of food. And ordered the entire menu.
We made a dance floor. Where there wasn't one.
We took shots. Too many.
I got engaged. Again.
We closed down two bars. Should have been three.
I made out with a 21 year old. And broke my own rule.
I probably should never drink again...
Vietnam is hard to be in sometimes. Because I want to know more about the war. I want to know what my dad did here. I want to know what he saw here. I want to know where he was here. I want to know if I'm standing anywhere close to a place he once was standing. Seeing anything that he once saw.
And I can't ask him.
And I wish I did when I had the chance.
In Hue, Vietnam, I met up with Augustine and the British boys who ditched us for Christmas lunch (Mike, Matt, and Lawrence).
We spent our...