Someone who shall remain nameless, whose name is Jeffrey Cufaude, has been been pestering me for months to produce some words in these here pixels. I have never met Jeffrey Cufaude in person, but then again, because Internet, I have met decreasing numbers of the people who are important to me. Jeffrey Cufaude clearly appreciates brilliance when he sees it, as well as melancholic rumination, catalogs of overwhelming and neverending projects, and extended hiatuses followed by deplorable excuses for my absence and plucky proclamations of turning over a new leaf. And of course chupacabras.
Next week, I am going on a trip to a far away land, something I have rarely done in recent years thanks to the aforementioned projects and a healthy dollop of destitution. I see this as an almost explosive decompression after the highs and lows of the past decade enkindled a near-constant crisis state that curdled the blood in my veins and left me with a haunted look that inspires strangers on the street to ask what is the matter. Nothing is the matter now because I am going to Hawaii, lovely land of lava, and when I get back, I am going to do some other things.