Just kidding. Well actually it is me, just fatbooth me.
Okay this is a little easier on the eyes, right? I'll work on that...
Lettuce get to the good parts. Born and raised in Eugene, OR. I successfully moved away without getting a 97404 zip code or 541 area code tattoo on my forearm. Originally I attended the University of Oregon, but I lived with my parents across town which A: provided me with rent-free living and B: prevented me from having the stereotypical college experience portrayed in all the movies. I was pretty socially awkward and wore my headphones in between classes to prevent Greenpeace from stealing my money. All in all, I was ready to move on. "I must live!" I declared. But not really because it was more like, "get me out of this s-hole!" Please don't take offense though; I was simply a 20-year old ready to get a friggin life.
So I exchanged schools. I moved to the Big Island in 2010 to attend UH Hilo, or rather UHH which yes, spells "uhh..." which is appropriately named. Don't get me wrong though, it is a great school and the people are awesome. Let me put it this way: school isn't the hardest part out here, its finding a steady job.
What a beauty. Feels like you're really there huh? I know.
My grandparents actually flew from Maui to meet me at the airport and take me to my first apartment. Everyone remembers the first time they moved out of their parent's house? Purely magical, and a little overwhelming, especially when its across the Pacific Ocean. My apartment, the University Palms, was a college apartment complex, like dorms but better. Less rules and a lot bigger. When I arrived, the apartment managers told me they had changed my assigned room and placed me in a different apartment. Come to find out they based my room assignment on my real name, Torisha, and had originally put me in an apartment with all African American girls. Not that it would have been a problem for me, I just found the situation and the irony to be pretty comical. When they showed me to my room, they told me to make sure if I smoked to keep my bongs out of the living room while my grandparents were standing right there. I cringed wishing they had saved that comment for later.
Until a few days ago, I had to walk and hitchhike everywhere due to lack of a vehicle. People like to call me a hippy because of this, and it's really caught on. I don't think these people have ever been to Eugene before, i'm telling you. Hitching can be dangerous, yes. But i'll have you know its gotten me to epic places on this island and given me experiences I wouldn't trade for anything. So put that in your rasta pipe and smoke it.
People also call me a hippy on account of my house/cottage I live in now. What people don't understand is how poor I am and that living in Hawai'i is not the cheapest place in the world.
For those who don't know, most people out here in Puna are on catchment tanks. This means we take our showers with rain water that accumulates in the giant contraption people often mistake for a swimming pool. Well its not, and don't you ever let me catch you swimming in it. For drinking water we go to the transfer station and fill up those big 5-gallon jugs you see for water coolers at the office.
I do my fair share of complaining about my living situation, but its actually pretty awesome when I think about it. I'm lucky for shelter and the people in my life I get to share it with. And i'm not a hippy.
