I’d say I’m a pretty organized person.
Now a person who’s ever talked to me may find that hard to believe because my sentences sometimes cat bounce around like tiny gerbils.
And some may say that I need to work on my similes, but that’s really not the point.
I’d — I’d say that I’m a pretty organized person. Late schoolwork? Psh. Never. That receipt from Provo Bakery? Oh yes, I know exactly where that is. Also, please stop checking up on my visits to the Provo Bakery, I only bought like 6 pastries last time, okay?
Anywhoodle, my amazing organizational skills are especially put to use in finding photographs from travels. In my mantra to take only photographs and memories for myself, I have a ton. And I know exactly where to find each one.
Ask me to find that picture of you from the 2012 Settlers of Catan Christmas party, go ahead.
But today as I was going through some old photos from Thailand (which I know, I know, I haven’t blogged about at all) I found one that made me well chortle with delight. A forgotten friend that I had forgotten all about.
Back in January, while the weather in Thailand was warming up to a consistent 80 degrees Fahrenheit with humidity and my bank account dwindling from numerous taxi rides, I decided that it would be in my best interest to finally try out one of those motorcycle taxis.
I found this photo today that best sums up this experience.
Here it is:
I entitle this one, “where the h*ck am I supposed to put my hands?”