Back in college my friend Shleisel and I lived in a dilapidated house near campus that we affectionately dubbed “The Hovel.” After a year of debauchery and less-than-wise choices we decided it was time to “grow up.” I’d formed a bad habit of running away from my problems but I figured I could do it one last time and really make it count. Hoping to get as far away as possible, I booked a one-way flight to China and promptly sold, gave away or trashed the majority of my possessions. What was left—mostly books and memories—went into a storage unit.
I’d booked the flight one month in advance, poetically opting to leave the country on my 24th birthday. [Read more…]
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