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Made it to Annapurna Base Camp with thirty minutes of light left, a case of altitude sickness, and a Dutch woman insisting I sing Mariah Carey — Kazi’s garlic soup fixed at least one of those problems.

The Annapurna views don’t have words, the trail has no mercy on your quads, and Gregg the Aussie walked past us like we weren’t even trying — because we weren’t.

Infinite stairs, a bucket shower, a chocolate cake, and a card game with a French girl who only knew how to say ‘Don’t touch me’ — first day on the trail, accounted for.

Kathmandu hit me like a wall of noise, exhaust, and chaos — and then at 10PM, alone in my hotel room, I had a full panic attack and wanted to go home.

Bangkok at 1AM, Oreo-fueled, humidity-punched, and about to wander a foreign city alone in the dark — but the Christmas songs are playing in my head, so I’m fine.

Ten and a half hours over the Pacific and the only thing standing between me and a full-blown freak-out is a plate of Oreo knockoffs.