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Hoard of Plenty

Over a plate of drunken noodles is a very strange place to have an epiphany. But yesterday was no ordinary day, so I didn’t argue. In Washington, D.C., tucked in the back of a Thai restaurant in Adams-Morgan, I called my friend, Tom. As we talked through my noodles, I realized how much I’ve never gotten over my pretty turbulent childhood. Oh, hell.