Leaving PST

My newfound experience would be quick to tell that it is completely ill-advised to do something rash and brash moments before embarking on a 30 hour trip where you have nothing to do but think. Or maybe it's only my brain that makes for such a perilous prison. In any case, I am back in Hanoi. I was once again the last one waiting at the luggage carousel. Baggage is such a drag. I had only one small suitcase, and all that was in it was a huge box of cheddar goldfish (oh my favorite!), a large bag of raw almonds (another favorite!), a new soccer ball, and a new wireless mouse. So pretty much necessities. I had a good time at home. Of course, any week that affords me Erik, Greg, Katrina, Montry, Jennifer, Kara, Peter, Laura, Doug, Eric, Marcus, Jonny, Craig, Jill, Jay, Emily, Ginger, Lynsey, Lauryn, Carl and Lisa is wildly successful. Oh, and my family, I don't mind them either. Happy birthday Peter. I know this is a tad late, but in my defense, I spent your birthday on plane listening to little kids scream from the row behind me, and was unable at that time to post. Oh, I finally finished Dostoevsky, and am on to The Brothers K, by David James Duncan. So far it's about baseball and Adventism, and is awesome. Here's a few tastes just in case I can get any of you interested in it. Jarrod I'm thinking particularly of you. [this bit comes after the kids consider rewriting the Bible to include evolution] "Anyhow," Everett said to Peter, "you can bet any amout, any odds, the Christians will stick with the Bible they've got, sure as the Chicago Cubs'll stick with Wrigley Field—even though it's got no lights." Peter nodded. "Nightfall is to the Cubs," he said, "exactly what Charles Darwin is to the Christians." [the narrator is talking here, after his dad makes an EGW joke he doesn't get] All I know about Ellen G. White is that she was this super-religious 1800s lady who resembled our bulldog Gomorrah and wrote a book called The Gift of Prophecy, and the Adventists liked her book so much they hang her picture all over their churches, making it look like it's always Halloween. All I know about Ellen G. White is she isn't funny. Peter read her book once, and discovered she was the culprit who talked Adventists into banning meat-eating and makeup and jewelry and such. He said she also laid down the law about not going out on the town on Friday nights, but Everett argued that, judging by her face, it'd be a snowy Friday night in hell before anybody asked her.