Fat Hawaiian Update: The owner of the hostel I stayed at in Hilo has
contacted the police and informed me that they might fly me back to Hawaii
to testify against the fucker who took my money. Stay tuned.

I never realized how big the wing engine of a B777 is until I was placed
right next to one on my Christmas Eve flight from Honolulu to Los Angeles.
As we descended through the night sky, I noticed that the entire Los Angeles
metropolitan area is covered by a blanket of smog so thick that it obscures
the orange city lights below. I have know idea how Santa found his way
around through that shit.

In Los Angeles International Airport, there was no Claire Danes. But my
friend Leslie was there. It was the first time in a year that someone was
actually waiting for me to arrive. A nice feeling.

on Christmas Day, Stephanie and Noel, old family friends, took me out to a
party with family and friends and then offered their place to me fr as long
as I needed it. They turned what could have been a complicated stay in LA
into a convenient and relaxing one.

The day after Christmas marked a full year that I have been away from home.
That day, Pauline flew into LA. Months ago, when we were still together,
Pauline and I had made plans to meet up in Los Angeles and celebrate New
Years together. And even though our relationship has taken a few bad turns
since we made those plans, we decided to stick to them and make the most of
it.

Despite our checkered past, I have to admit that it was really great to see
her. We had a good time catching up with each other and visiting Santa
Monica, Universal Citywalk, and other local attractions. Back at the house,
I let her dye my hair blond. Things were surprisingly uncomplicated.

My old high school friend Rob and his dog "Jej" drove into LA a few days
later to celebrate New Years with me. But instead of staying in LA for New
Years, we decided to head out to Las Vegas. Although Pauline is under-age,
we didn't anticipate any problems since none of us are heavyweight drinkers
or gamblers. The only problem was that Pauline had to be back in LA by
January 2 so that she could catch her flight home.

On December 30, the three of us and Jej squished into Rob's truck and drove
to Las Vegas. When we arrived, Rob and I were excited, but Pauline was
strangely withdrawn. While discussing our options for accommodation, she
refused to give Rob and I any feedback whatsoever. All she did was
complain. Room rates were predictably jacked up, but Rob and I managed to
find a reasonably-priced room at a Motel 6 on the outskirts of town. The
three of us and the dog piled into room #111 and went to sleep.

New Years Eve. In the afternoon, we left the dog at the Motel 6 and drove
into town to the Las Vegas Strip to walk around a bit. When we stopped for
lunch, Pauline decided to eat alone. I was starting to get a bit pissed off
with her attitude.

The late afternoon sun began to set. It's amazing how early the sun sets in
Vegas. It's almost as if they rush it so that they can get an early start
on the nightlife. Before I knew it, the streets were starting to fill with
people, and you could feel the energy starting to build.

Next to Circus Circus, I spotted a bungy platform. I couldn't think of a
better way to end the year, and Rob agreed to jump with me. Pauline
couldn't jump because she didn't meet the weight requirement. She bitched.

Just before we jumped, I met up with Corey, an old college buddy. Corey and
Pauline watched as Rob and I made our way up the platform and prepared to
jump. This was Rob's first jump, and he was as cool as a Hindu cow. I had
jumped twice in New Zealand, but I was still scared shitless. It was dark,
and the view over the blinking Las Vegas skyline was magnificent. Then I
jumped. Great fun.

After the bungy jump, the four of us cruised down the Strip to get something
to eat. We passed a TV which was showing highlights of the fireworks in
Sydney a few hours earlier. For a moment, I felt a bit nostalgic. Was I
really there last year? Have I really come this far since then?

While sitting in front of Burger King with Rob and Corey, Pauline decided to
initiate a conversation about our personal problems. After mentioning that
I didn't think it was the right time or place to have that conversation,
Pauline left and went for a walk.

It was 9pm. Rob, Corey, and I began discussing what we'd like to do for the
rest of the night. As we were getting up to leave, Pauline returned. In
front of Rob, Corey, and a room full of Burger King patrons, Pauline
screamed that she hated me and slapped me across my face.

I stood there in disbelief for what seemed like an eternity before dragging
Pauline outside and explaining to her that I don't like talking about our
personal problems in front of my friends, that Rob and I had coordinated
both of our schedules to accommodate her, that I was doing my best to
include her with my other friends, that our trip was a group effort and not
a free ride, and that I was tired of hearing her complain about everything.
She responded by hurling insults, saying that she had made a mistake by
coming out to see me, threatening to go the airport to fly home, and
erupting into tears. Things were suddenly very complicated.

Even though she no longer wanted to be with me and was doing everything
possible to ruin my New Years, I pleaded with her to stay with us and make
the most of it. She agreed.

As we walked down to the Sahara, Pauline kept falling behind. At the
Sahara, we rode a roller coaster called Speed. The ride was, despite the
emotional weight of the moment, quite exhilarating.

Walking back down the Strip, Pauline separated herself from the group and
walked by herself. A few minutes later, when I looked back to find her, she
was gone. Fed up, I joined Rob and Corey and decided that I would make the
most of my New Years in Vegas. I wanted to have fun.

Fun consisted of losing a quarter in a slot machine and waiting in front of
a crowded bar for over an hour just to get a badly-mixed, jumbo-sized
daiquiri. At 11:30pm, we emerged from the bar with drinks in hand and
discovered that all of the streets had been blocked off. Thousands of
people were marching up and down the Strip. Rob, Corey, and I joined the
mob and started walking down the Strip. But in the back of my mind, I
continued to worry about Pauline.

We maneuvered our way through the noisy crowd, passing through foul-smelling
clouds of weed, fart, body odor, and garbage. We found a spot in front of
one of the gates and were soon joined by a small group of pierced,
strangely-dressed hooligans banging pots and pans with sticks and salad
tongs.

Rob, Corey, and I found ourselves perched in front of Treasure Island. We
scanned the Strip for a clock of some sort which would let us know when the
clock would strike 12, but the only screen we could see continued to show
ads for an Italian restaurant and a cheesy magic show.

Then the fireworks started. Shot from the top of every hotel, the fireworks
filled the Strip with bright colors and thundering explosions. The crowd
went nuts. Happy New Year. I would find out later that the fireworks in
Vegas were voted the best in the world. Amazing that I had been in the
right place at the right time for two years running.

The three of us decided to walk up and down the Strip to mingle with the
crowd and to explore the cavernous and beautifully-designed casinos and
resorts that Vegas is famous for. By 3am, the crowd had thinned
considerably, and cleaning crews were making their way down the street,
clearing away the empty plastic bottles, escort advertisements, and New
Years junk that everybody had left behind.

We finally returned to the Motel 6 at 4am. Pauline was there, passed out on
the bed. She had spent the whole night taking taxis around Las Vegas, doing
whatever she could to get out of town.

I stayed up to watch the first sunrise of the new millennium. Pauline came
and stood next to me, but we didn't say a word to each other. The sunrise
was disappointing.

The next morning, we left Vegas and accidentally saw a very isolated section
of Lake Mead before making our way to Hoover Dam. Pretty cool. Rob and I
agreed that it would be a great place for a bungy site. Then we turned
around and headed back to LA. The traffic out of Vegas was obscene, backed
up by several pile-ups along I-15. So we just sat in the car, creeping
forward every few minutes. Pauline and I didn't say one word to each other.

Ten hours later, we finally arrived in Los Angeles. We dropped Pauline off
at the airport, and she was gone. And I was happy to see her go.

I was scheduled to be on that same flight home with Pauline, but I decided
not to take it so that I could spend a week driving home with Rob and his
dog and see a bit of the United States. After spending so much time abroad,
I figured I owed it to myself to see a little bit of my own country.

No Regrets (except for taking my under-age ex-girlfriend to Las Vegas for
New Years).

Jeff