Musings on Men from a Mountain

I hiked the Y on Monday. Sadly, this does not count as hike numero dos (for those of you non-Spanish speakers, that means number two) because Steph did not join me. I was hiking it with a group of single church goers, which meant that there were men of all sorts there. And, as I hiked up that blasted less-than-attractive mountain, I began to wonder to myself the following things. First, why on earth did we have to make this trail both steep and long? I mean really, if it's going to be that steep, you may as well just make it a straight-shot hike, rather than the mile-long, 11-turn, ugly beast that it is. Second, why, oh why, did I decide to leave my delicious granola bar in my car at the bottom? I really wanted that granola bar, seeing as how I was famished, but by the time that I decided that it actually was a horrifically terrible idea to leave that nourishment behind, I was already past the first turn and it was much too late to go back. Third, and most lasting, pickup lines?

You see, I've never fully understood pickup lines when used in all sincerity. Sure, they make a good joke. I mean, when phrases like, "Hello, I'm a thief. And I'm here to steal your heart." exist, I just feel like it's impossible to not get a kick out of them. But do girls somewhere in the world honestly fall head over heels for something like that? Cause...that'd be weird. Maybe it's just me, but I'd rather hear an honest effort, an honest compliment, an honest personality than some of this I'm-joking-unless-it-goes-well-at-which-point-it-actually-was-sincere garbage. I am a big fan of being lighthearted, don't get me wrong, but a pickup line just doesn't make me feel like I'm important. Better luck next time, boys.

In case you were wondering, I did make it to the top of the mountain with my companions. We failed to capture ourselves in the moment, but I did document the nearly setting sun in all its glory.

Proof that I made it to the top.