beware of the hat rabbit
*I am lying on the beautiful tall bed in our bed and breakfast, staring at the big wooden ceiling fan that makes me think of the "Hungry Like the Wolf" video. Then I'm closing my eyes and practicing disappearing. I read about it in a book, and it sounded good -- disappearing out from under my personality, disappearing from my history, disappearing like a benevolently burst bubble. It's ultra-relaxing, this trying to disappear, even though I think I might not be that great at it. While I'm trying to disappear, I hear a gurgly voice murmur from the foot of the bed, "Beware of the hat rabbit." It's Dave, playing online poker under his new screen name, hatrabbit. He got 4 tens. Comments are pinging back to him, like "ouch" and "bang!" and "nice hand!", so he is gurgling proudly down there. It's almost difficult to love someone this much, but I have no choice.
*We're walking down the street in Pa'ia, looking at photos of houses for sale posted in the window of a realty. There's a house in a town nearby called Haiku, and we imagine that you have to give directions to your house in 17 syllables.
down scary hana highway
red house? gone too far.
*The new main only thing to eat is mahi mahi. Eat only that. No need to eat other things. Eat it in a curry. Eat it in a crepe. Eat it in a fajita if you're Dave the first time I'm meeting you two years ago in this same cafe, and pronounce fajita "fazheeta" like "zsa-zsa gabor" because you've never had one before. When you do that, that will start the me-falling-in-love-with-you process.
*Now I must go join Dave in our low, sweet, figure-eight-y bathtub with the stained glass window next to it of an anchor that says "HOPE". I mean, really. It's like that these days.
Goodbye! This was a postcard for everybody in the world. I would wish you were all here, but that would be very expensive.