Well i’m back in hobart. 5 months early, a semester way off and at the height of summer. Its hot and i’m feeling greasy.
On my flight over, I met a nice girl that made the first leg fly by.
On the second my flight was slow, and stopped in Pheonix.
I read a lot. Then, arriving in LAX, the weather was horrible. The flight was delayed a few hours because we were waiting for a different delayed plane.
The rain was heavy.
We got off the ground in the massive Quantas Bertha.
There was tons of turbulance and a kid half way down the aisles lost his breakfast and most recent snacks. There was drama and an exodus of people.
Terror and recycled air. Just horrible.
The transitions were pretty stream-lined into hobart.
I arrived on time, after talking with some English people on the plane: giving them advice as to where to go for Christmas.
I’m wrecked now, Christmas got me good.
“Anyways” I got home, and we all hugged and ate, there were some pensive silences and I shared my thoughts and some inner working memories.
After we ate we all shared stories. Happy Memories. Then after that we opened presents, there were a few. It was nice.
Shirts, socks, massage, beanie, etc.

Pool and Coup that night, I went for a jog and a run which were cleansing.
Now i’m ruined.

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