Rio Piedras, Puerto Rico
Although it makes for entertaining and comprehensive reading/storytelling, it's not enjoyable for me to spend my time typing up overwhelmingly negative events—basically, bitching.
Sometimes I'll do it, as I have this week via e-mail with a few close friends, because writing things out can occasionally be therapeutic, and can even provide insight into a situation (stimulated by the organization of thoughts and events), but I tend to limit such things.
Everyone deals with stress differently, and in the world of blogging, it usually results in a brain-dump of emotions and thoughts on a Web site for all to see. I don't work that way, and as I stated above, don't like to write that way. This is why you won't see me droning on in any detail here about the hailstorm of grief that I walked into when I touched down in PR on the 6th, and many other tragically whimsical events that have transpired in the past. I think many of these entertaining stories and tidbits are best reserved for exchanges of horror stories over drinks with good company.
All that being said, maybe you've noticed, but I don't write strictly about fluffy white bunny rabbits and sunshine in this travelogue. A lot of times I feel like speaking about some of the personal anguish that occurs when the sweet turns sour (just look back at many of the entries while aboard the Odessa or the recent operational loss of my camera), or maybe I'll just briefly hint at them in a post (such as the attempted mugging in the Dominican Republic, Rose the firefighter in Tobago, or the lack of pleasant things to say about Jess here in Puerto Rico), but either way, I do at least allude to incidents of discomfort—even though I might not get into the gritty details…