The woes of ex-ex-patriotism

My life has become significantly less interesting since I’ve become an ex-expat. I try to supplement my blog with little excursions that I do around the island, but going to Ala Moana Beach Park for a BBQ just isn’t the same as going to Venice for the weekend. Remember when I got lost by myself in Paris where I later learned the fundamentals of travel the hard way? Well, I recently got lost while looking for Friday-night parking in downtown Honolulu and only walked away with the steadfast conviction that one-way roads should be outlawed. The later doesn’t quite have the same appeal.

But I refuse to settle into the belief that home has to be synonymous with boring. I am extraordinarily fortunate to call this tropical island my place of residence. People frequently travel to Hawaii and their experiences are usually filled with exoticism, lush beaches and smoking hot local boys*, all of which are at my daily disposal! Do I have a desire to take advantage of it? Yes. Am I successful? Rarely, but that doesn’t stop me from trying.

So a little goal has birthed itself. You’ll be hearing from me in excess over the next week just so I can prove to you that a story can be found regardless of where you’re looking for it. In many cases, adventure is just disguised as something we’ve already seen before. Sometimes, all it takes are new eyes.

*By “smoking hot local boys,” I actually mean “underaged Asians.”