Terrifying.

We found some Taliban members and rented their ride. Now it has a sticker on it that reads "I lived through Hells Revenge." Cuz i did. And I don't know how. Blake no longer has aspirations to build up his 72 Buckin' Bronco after riding in such a magnificent machine.

We got back from Moab. One word can sum up this trip for me.... terrifying. Thank you to dear old dad who permanently scarred me for life as a young child, I am presently not a huge fan of "jeeping" as they call it.

Quick story of how i became this way- it involved 13 people in a mini van, on the steepest hill in san francisco, dad pretends the engine goes out, me the 6 year old in the back part of the van sitting on a portopotty (not using it thank you), is sucking face to the back window watching death come upon me as we roll backwards at high speeds. Dad laughs, Emily is never quite the same.

With that said, I did my best to have a good weekend, but found myself still suffering from anxiety even after getting home from the so-called "vacation." I think in due time (10+ years) I can overcome this jeeping/4wheeling fear after a few more weekends like this one. But I am definitely not too cool to say that I was more than TERRIFIED. Poor Blake, I think he still has claw marks in his forearms from me grabbing him in the back of the Rubicon. And I believe more than one person (Matt, my dad....) would have liked to kill me, while wishing I had been in someone else's jeep besides there's.=)

But hey, I did my best.

Pictures of the 3 day anxiety attack to come soon.... =)