The trip to Hawaii was weird and beautiful and boring and exciting and stressful and tasty and sad. Add jet lag and I felt a lot of the time like I was in a DisneyWorld Epcot center version of my past or a Vanilla Sky deal. Everything looked familiar but a little off. Like it wasnít really Hawaii but Andrewland, like I was walking in a projection of my memories, my past. Ah the hubris. Iím glad I could make it but I wish everyone could live forever. Yah, I know, Iím Obvious Boy. On my last day I met up with some family friends I have not seen in a long time. We waited in a line that went down the block in Chinatown in the warm sun for some excellent viet noodle soup and I was caught up on all the gossip. Shit went down, happy and tragic since Iíve been gone and it made me wonder what would of happened if I had stayed. I know I sure would of ate a lot more malasadas (Hawaiian Portuguese donuts). I tried to make up for lost time and got a stomach ache-You canít go home again. On my way back to Chicago I was stuck in the LAX for five hours. I think it was my chance to just walk out of the airport and start wandering. You know, have my nervous breakdown and end up in Alaska or Mexico, found years later, dead or married. Instead I ate bad airport food and read Great Expectations, which is my first Dickens novel. I liked it a lot. By the way, all the Japanese tourist boys have brown and blond shaggy haircuts and they pluck their eyebrows. They kind of look like drag queens in casual skater clothes. Use that info any way you want all you professional ďTrendtrackersĒ.

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