It's my second to last night and I spent the day packing up my apartment. A few hours ago I left the YWCA building for the last time, thanked the front desk clerk Ronald, and went downtown to my two night hotel. I saw off two of my good friends today at the airport. I don't know if I'll ever see either of them again, but I think I will.

The last four months have been wonderful for me. I can't really word it, but I feel lucky that I've felt such adventure here, the kind that everyone probably experiences in their own way, given the opportunity. There has been nothing extraordinary about it. I'm now one of the rest, maybe. It's just what I wanted.

I read in Lonely Planet that "One night in Bangkok isn't what it used to be." I read it in a park in Thailand, over a Haagen-Dazs ice cream bar, and it dripped all over my shorts. Thailand was very hot. I don't care that two generations ago the first leisurely travelers found real, untamed places. I was still chased by a ladyboy across a parking lot and I juggled my keys as she ran toward my door. I got in just in time and listened to her and her tall friends scream outside. Saturation by tourists doesn't mean there's nothing left to discover, it just means there are some places where you lower your head and scurry away.

In my lonely hotel room now. My neighbor ought to be here soon, and we'll walk in Kowloon tonight I think. There's also a Dutch girl that I'm in love with, but I think it's too late. Maybe I'll at least have dinner with her and her friends.

Fast forward a week, and I sit in the Maverick in Santa Ynez watching cowboys lumber across the wood floor to bother young girls. Thank god for home.

The end. Thanks for reading!

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