I’ll never forget that trip home from college in 2002, the first time I opened my suitcase and found a small, white card with an official-looking seal informing me that border security agents had gone through my bag and inspected my belongings.

“Great,” I thought. “The U.S. Department of Homeland Security has been rifling through my underwear.”

The men in black, or whoever they were, left little evidence that they had been through my things at all, save that card, and some slightly out-of-order folded clothing — oh wait, this was MY suitcase, so nothing was probably folded anyway.

Nevertheless, that card alone made me feel slightly, well — violated.

Six years later, there are bigger fish to fry — a U.S. Senate hearing yesterday questioned whether federal officials can seize and search people’s laptop computers during airport security inspections. That story in today’s New York Times.

The federal government says the laptop searches are a necessary step in efforts to catch people who carry illegal material across U.S. borders.

The searches are problematic not only because of the obvious privacy concerns, but will likely cause an uproar because so many people today tie their entire lives up in their computers. I’m traveling to Chicago next month and will probably take my laptop, on which is saved countless, priceless notes, papers, interviews. I’ve seen friends treat the death of a laptop like the loss of a loved one. Seriously, they’ll mourn for days.

What would they do if their computers were suddenly taken away? For me, it would be as if someone took over and blew up my office.

I’m also confused as to what the Feds looking for. Data? Viruses? Photos? Is this a security issue? If it’s a bomb disguised as a computer, I could see how there would be cause for concern. But can’t anything being carried on a hard drive just as easily be sent via email from outside the U.S. to within American borders without even going through a metal detector? Someone enlighten me.

After going along with stricter bag inspections, pat downs, shoe removal, long lines, extended waiting times, no bottled anything, and the consolidation of all toiletries and medicines to a quart-size, zip-lock, clear plastic bag with (relatively) little protest, one wonders how much more travelers will tolerate.

Seven years after 9-11, seems like little white cards in our suitcases may be the least of our worries.

I like to think I’ve given up a lot of the naivete I possessed in high school, but one thing I still can’t get over is the shattering disappointment I felt when I found out that long-distance relationships do not work.

The question inevitably arose at a college information night with seniors I attended at my high school in April: How hard is it to do long-distance? Everyone on the four-person alumni panel gently explained that regardless of how you might feel about your high school honey, 95 percent of these relationships are bound to fail. Nervous laughter followed, with some seniors whispering hopefully: “There’s always that five percent.”

So, the end of the summer after graduation bears down upon high school couples like an enormous tidal wave. And still, they promise to keep in touch, and visit each other, even if one is at NYU and the other at USC, and fuel prices are through the roof. Four months into it, there’s an argument, one becomes interested in a classmate, one gets too busy for the other, and the relationship, so full of hope at the beginning of that summer, ends.

And, in retrospect, that’s not always a bad thing.

When it comes to long-distance relationships, Hawai‘i people really have it rough. Being the most isolated land mass on the face of the earth means that maintaining a relationship with anyone who is not in Hawai‘i will involve a several-hour-long time difference and at least $400 and five hours spent on a plane.

Some couples enjoy the freedom that time away from their partner gives them. This doesn’t necessarily mean dating other people, but concentrating on a job or hobby, or spending time with family members or friends — individuals who might otherwise be pushed to the side once you’ve found Mr. or Ms. Right and start living at his or her house six days a week.

That’s fine if it’s just for a few weeks or months. But what about a few years?

At what point does a long-distance relationship cease being a real relationship?

These are all questions I’ve wondered about, having attempted — and failed at — a number of long-distance relationships in the past few years. Distance was definitely a frustrating factor at the end of each, but I also wonder how much of it was my own lack of maturity at the time.

All these thoughts swirl in my head as I look toward the future. Like many young people who were born and raised in the islands, I’d like to eventually settle in the place where I grew up. But, at 24, I know my days of traveling and living in other places are not yet over. I often wonder what I’m going to do when I’ve finally had my fill of exploring the world and decide to hop a plane back to Honolulu. Who’s going to be sitting next to me?

Or — who’s going to pick me up from the airport?

At some point, it seems likely that long-distance will again have to come into play. When it happens, I’ll still hold out hope that two people committed to each other but separated by thousands of miles can make it work. But, I guess we’ll see. It may be the last remnant of my high school self that I’ll need to let go of.

A friend is in town this week for a conference and is staying with me. So, for the first time I get to see what it’s like living with another person in my 420-sq.-ft. studio, which, up until Friday, was furnished only with a Queen-size aerobed, a TV, two Wal-mart folding tables and a weird-looking brown dresser.

It’s a situation likely experienced by anyone from Hawaii with close friends — and sometimes not-so-close friends — who come for a visit. You’ve noticed those longing looks in their eyes when you talk affectionately of 85-degree weather and pristine beaches. Everyone says yes, they’d LOVE to make the trip and, being full of the Aloha Spirit, you extend the invitation of a “someday” visit. And, of course, you offer your home as an alternative to a $300-per-night hotel.

But what happens when they take you up on the offer?

Any twenty-something who likes to travel has probably played the roles of both host and guest. I’ve hosted several college friends in Hawaii, offering a spare bed in my parents’ house (when I lived there) or a sleeping bag on the floor in my apartment. All have been great so far, cooking meals or giving me time alone when I needed it to work or study.

Other hosts I know haven’t been so lucky. I always prepare friends beforehand for the space-constraints of Hawaii living. With space being so tight, it’s often easy for guests to overstay their welcome. It’s tough when the host is on a 9-to-5 work schedule and the guest(s) are not. I’ve heard horror stories about vacationing “guests from hell” who stay out way past when their exhausted host has gone to bed and come stumbling in around 5 in the morning — sometimes with other people. Some hosting experiences go bad after just a few days and the guest winds up seeking out another place, getting a hotel, or booking an earlier flight.

There are various lists of rules compiled for being a good house guest. Most recommend the “three-day rule” for non-relatives. Here’s Rule Two of a ten-rule list supposedly posted by a New Yorker on Craig’s List:

Rule Two
All visitors planning to stay more than three days and nights are now required to show one of the following documents.
1. A valid airplane ticket from a different country (Texas not included)
2. An insurance claim proving that your house burnt down.
3. The birth certificate proving that I once lived in your (or your wife’s) womb for nine months (which is indeed way more than three days)
-Or-
4. Photo ID proving that you are Johnny Depp or Viggo Mortenson.

At 24, I long for the day when I will be able to offer a friend an actual “guest room” — not just a clean spot on the carpet. But I’m afraid that day is still far away. Until then, I suppose my guests will have to make do.

Plus, whenever I get an email from a friend coming to visit, I remember that I’ve slept on my fair share of other peoples’ floors and couches — in New York, Chicago, California and Japan, to name a few. I like to think of it as doing my part as one member of a community of globetrotters. It all somehow evens out in the wide world of traveling and random floor-crashing.

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Coincidentally (promise), there is an article in the NYT today about presidential campaign workers depending on the generosity of supporters for places to stay on the campaign trail.

A Los Angeles Times story over the weekend mentioned Punahou and Sacred Hearts among an increasing number of schools that are sending students to far-off places during spring break. The trips are not just opportunities for those who can afford it to practice their French verbs, however. The excursions combine cultural learning and language studies with community service projects.

The Punahou-Sacred Hearts group’s blog about their 2007 spring break trip has some cool photos from Vietnam. On the trip this year, students can earn up to 14 hours of community service credit for providing stuffed animals, clothing and medical supplies to two Vietnamese orphanages.

Unfortunately, seeing/saving the world is expensive: The families of students at the private Catlin Gabel School in Portland, Ore. shelled out a whopping $3,385 per student to give them the rare opportunity to deliver 500 lbs. of school supplies, flash drives, music players, sports equipment and medical supplies, including HIV-AIDS antivirals, to Cuba.

Hopefully they were grateful — the Cuban recipients AND the students.

I would love to see more opportunities afforded locally to students who, because they may not have the means, have never considered a trip to countries like Germany or Guatemala. More than the community service aspect, going abroad can help students immensely, especially those at the high school level. This is especially true for Hawaii high school students who may have lived “on the rock” their entire lives.

One of the best experiences of my life up until this point was my semester abroad in China. Being in a culture and environment that was foreign, and at many times incredibly uncomfortable, got me to see past some of the more petty problems plaguing me at the time and helped me to put life in perspective.

Especially for high school and college students, it is easy to get absorbed in and weighed down by personal issues. I’m a big believer in the concept of “uncomfortable learning,” and going abroad, or at least throwing yourself into an experience that is totally different and strange, can have invaluable benefits.

PHOTO: My friend, Nat, and I atop the Great Wall at Huairou (outside Beijing) freezing our butts off. March, 2005.