Dear Rude Traveler...

I know that traveling isn’t always so much fun these days. Everyone seems to be in a bad mood – the ticketing agents, TSA agents, the travelers and the flight attendants (as we know from the Jet Blue turd who’s now making mad cash telling his story – which, is so ridiculous). Last weekend, Joe and I were flying back home to Hawaii from NH and had to connect through Boston, which is where I encountered one of those not-so-elusive "it's all about me" traveler.

And on this note – to the man who cut in front of Joe and then, not only, proceeded to cut in front of me but SLAM his backpack into me, I have this to say. YOU are an a-hole. You’re a 100%, probably corn-hole, fed jerk. You better count your lucky stars that I didn’t go up one side of you and down the other for how you so carelessly slammed your body and your backpack into other (calm and patient) passengers waiting in line for boarding group 1. It was completely unacceptable to me when you cut in front of my boyfriend to hurry yourself to the front of the line. Seriously dude? You were in boarding group 1 – it doesn’t get much better than that.

Then when you cut in front of me, AND slammed into me with your huge bag, it caused a reaction in me that nothing else ever has. It was like a matador waiving a huge red flag in front of bull’s eyes. When you rudely slammed into me and kept on walking, I only saw rage and fury. I didn’t even know what I was doing when I bolted off Joe’s side and ran up to you, grabbing your arm and confronting you. I don’t remember anything going through my mind at all – it was just a flash of red and then me grabbing your arm. Be thankful I grabbed you in front of two gate agents & realized in an instant they had the power to keep me from boarding the plane, should I get too loud in confronting you.

In fact, I’m sure that I moved so fast, Joe was probably wondering what happened to me. You should be especially thankful that I had enough self-control and did not unleash the tirade of a decade that would have made Mel Gibson blush. And believe me, I could have, and wanted to. You better be thankful that I desperately wanted to get back to 86 degrees weather, sunshine and beaches; otherwise you’d still be in Mass General recuperating from a torn rectum.

So, next time you think it’s a good idea to go around pushing people out of your way like a bull in a china shop without so much as an “excuse me” you should really think twice, because next time the person might not let your rude self go with just a terse “Jerk”. Next time, you might actually get yanked back by your geek pack and given a talking to by a man, and not some 5’3” woman who feels pity for your sorry self. And by the way – we were also in Boarding Group 1, but we weren’t pushing people out of the way to get on the plane. If you’re at the gate and paying attention, you’re going to get on the plane. There is no reason to be and no excuse for being….a jerk.

Baby Names

And no, I'm not with child. Here is a short list of the best, most awesome names I've heard since living in Hawaii: Espn (espen), ABCDE (ab-cidy), Lexus (the car), Ecko (the clothing company),and Lover (yes, that's true and no joke). Stay tuned for more glorious names of the most isolated island chain in the world...

Beanie Baby Bronco

I’m super excited to be writing this post! Not because it’s exceptionally funny or witty, but because it’s the first blog post written in my 30s and because it’s being typed up on my brand-new Carrie Bradshaw-esque Mac computer. I love it! Hopefully, I can channel my inner Carrie Bradshaw and bring you all many, many hilarious blog entries.

If anyone has ever been tailgated, then you’ll appreciate this story (I hope). A few weeks ago, I was driving on the Pali (which runs from Kailua to Honolulu), going towards the city. As I drove past the Kam Highway intersection, I continued on up the highway and came upon the first sharp turn. As I was making my way up the highway, I noticed that there was a white Bronco on my tail. And when I say “on my tail”, I mean it was so close it was like an actual tail on a puppy – close and out of control. Now, I have to admit, I’ve done my fair share of tailgating, but I’m trying to be better. This Bronco, however, took it to the next level.

The Bronco was white, covered in decals and driven by a crazy person. As I looked in my rearview mirror, I noticed the person making obscene hand gestures, which I found annoying. After passing the person in the right lane, I immediately pulled over to let the obnoxious Bronco pass. As the SUV started to pass, I noticed one thing and one thing only…the beanie babies. No, you did not misread that – I said beanie babies. Yes, the tiny stuffed beanie animals.

This huge Bronco (note: it wasn’t quite as big as a redneck fair Broncosaurus) zoomed by me going about 50mph, which, given the turn is mighty fast. The very first thing that crossed my mind upon seeing this large Bronco zooming past was this: “really?!” I could not believe a person driving like such a jerk would have a dashboard covered in beanie babies. Seriously! In fact, I wondered if someone sneaked the bumper sticker onto our vehicle that said, “If you’re going to ride my @ss, pull my hair,” only I didn't get the hair tugging bit. At least that would explain the tailgating from the beanie baby Bronco. Jeez. And to that, I have only one thing to say: only in Hawaii. No self respecting man in Vermont or New Hampshire would drive like a maniac just to pass the car they're tailgating….with a dashboard full of stuffed animals.

Action from the set of Pirates of the Caribbean 4, On Stranger Tides....in Deppth

The location: He'eai Pier, Kaneohe, HI
The scene: The set of Pirates of the Caribbean 4, On Stranger Tides
The dates: July 27, July 28, July 29th, July 31st and the holy grail of all days...Aug 4th
The reason: Two words - Johnny Depp

My first day of obsessively following (as Joe pointed out - stalking sounds bad) was July 27th. I moseyed over to He'eai Pier after work because I had heard the Black Pearl was at the dock for the final weeks of filming. Little did I know, everyone and their brother were also going to be there because the location was all over the news just as I was getting out of work. There were a bunch of gawkers, just like myself, cruising all over the pier and taking pictures of this, that and everything in between. After all, it's not every day a movie is filmed in one's backyard. I hung out for a couple hours, which to most may seem like a lot, but for me it's a drop in the bucket of time to burn until Joe comes home. I took some decent pictures of the ship and waited to hear that no actors were going to be on set that night *sigh*. So I packed it in for the evening, determined to go back the following day.

July 28th: aka Day 2 of Obsessively Following/Watching the set and crew of Pirates 4. I drove over to the set after a long, grueling day at work yet again and got myself a great position against the barrier. I was perfectly content chatting it up with my fellow Pirate fans and snapping the occasional photo. After about 3 hours, I was just about to head for home when things started to happen....very suspicious things. The pier lights went dark, the smoke machines were starting to send smoke billowing out of their stacks, and the security guards started walking the line of fans, carefully monitoring for any crazies. I should say, any easily identifiable crazies. I suspect most hide theirs, just like I do. Well, wouldn't you know, some of the crew wheeled out this huge 4 light spotlight and set that bad boy up, blaring its lights so bright that the sun would've been put to shame. Literally, in 10 minutes, I was having hot flashes so bad that I contemplated jumped into the fishy, dirty water at the pier to keep from crawling out of my skin!

The security guards started coming up the line saying "Johnny will be here in about 10 minutes. Please don't push or shove or get out of control. He will be arriving in an SUV, which will slow down and he will have the window down so you can all take pictures as he drives by. After you have your pictures, please leave so we can continue filming." There were only about 100 people there, if that. It was a small crowd. There was no real barrier. It was a bunch of those triangular "no parking signs" that were placed about 10' apart, with yellow "caution" tape holding them together. And I use that term loosely. It was ghetto fabulous. The air was electric and the tension almost palpable as the SUV pulled into the parking lot. The crowd gasped in unison...and then the SUV stopped. IT STOPPED. The door opened and one pirate dressed leg came out, and then another, and it was Capt. Jack Sparrow, live and in person. Johnny Depp had the SUV stop so he could get out and walk the line to greet the fans (crazies like me) who had waited, some for most of their day. He was gracious and seemed to genuinely appreciate that the fans were all lined up to see him. There were no handshakes, no autographs, but lots of smiles, "thank you" and bowing. It was incredible.

July 29th: Repeat July 28th only with more fans and crazies. They had put up an actual barrier by this point - a meager attempt at crowd control. Oh, I did meet a cute couple from Poland and this was where they spent their last night. After Johnny walked by, the girl Monica (I think), completely lost her crap and started crying. It made me laugh. Only Johnny Depp can bring together a Polish couple, a girl from NH, 3 Asian women with “I Love Johnny” signs, and hundreds of others. It was definitely a motley crew. (No, not the band, but they are freakin’ awesome!)

July 30th: Even a stalker needs a day off.

July 31st: With a night off, an "obsessive follower" can get an early start. And I did. I was on the set by 7:15, chatting it up with a security guard I met a few days earlier. Fast forward, he introduced me to a driver on the set, who I hung out with for a bit and then was invited to go up to Queen Anne's Revenge - the ship Johnny and Penelope (Cruz) are filming on. I have to say, it felt pretty bad-ass driving past all the other spectators, up to where only the crew is allowed. I hopped out, and was able to walk right up to QAR. The security guard offered to snap some pics of me, which I found amusing, but nice. Then, I was offered the chance to go aboard. Let me think about this...an invite onto the ship Johnny Depp was on a mere few hours before...um, okay. I got to walk around, take pictures, walk up the different stairways, touch things - it was so surreal!

Fast forward a few days to present day: August 4th. I left work, went to the gym, moseyed home for some dinner and then thought to myself "why are you spending another night home when Johnny Depp is 20 minutes away?!" Naturally, I listened to my inner crazy because opportunities like this don't happen every day. In fact, every day that goes by is one less opportunity to see Captain Jack a stone's throw from me. I packed up the camera, grabbed my hoodie and drove back down to the pier. However, by this point, it was apparent that hundreds of other people had the same intention. There were more people there than ever before and I soon found out why. Turns out, my new favorite pirate has been walking the line...and shaking hands with the fans. I about wet my pants like a puppy in his new home. I waited a short 1.5 hours and then it happened....Johnny arrived, par for course, dressed as Capt. Jack Sparrow. He was walking very slowly, stopping to chat with fans and shake their hands. And then, he was about 3 feet away and getting closer...and closer....and then finally it happened. Johnny Depp had my hand cupped in his and held it for a brief 5-6 seconds, before moving down the line. It was...indescribable. Literally, no words can describe the pure awesomeness (except maybe that word, because it is, in itself, that awesome) of having Johnny Depp hold one's hand. And in all actuality, his hand was soft, yet semi-clammy. Maybe even A-list celebrities get nervous....

While my brief encounter with Johnny Depp was a once in a lifetime experience that rivals most other experiences in my life, I can honestly say it doesn't earn the top spot. It certainly has made the top 3. My previous list was 1. Joe 2. Cheese 3. Tyra Banks. My current list is 1. Joe 2.Cheese 3. Johnny Depp. Actually, I think Johnny Depp and Cabot Cheese may be tied for 2nd. That’s yet to be determined.

I fully intend on doing more "obsessive following" so be sure and stay tuned the crazy shenanigans that are bound to arise from such activities....

Monster in the Mailbox

The term “monster” has many definitions. For the purpose of this story, it will be defined as “anything unnatural or monstrous.” Everyone has different opinions; therefore, I expect everyone to define “monsters” by different criteria. A monster to me may only qualify as a puppy, rainbow or butterfly in your book, and vice versa. That’s the great thing about everyone having their own opinion…that just means the world is chock full of monsters and beauty, depending on the eye of the beholder. And so it begins…

Anyone who has visited, or lived in, a tropical location, has most likely come across those small-large sized, semi-cute, 4 legged, tailed creatures. Joe would call them pets. Others may agree. Bugs most definitely call them predator. I, however, firmly believe they are (mildly cute) tiny monsters.

There are two reasons I firmly believe lizards are worthy of the term “monsters”. For one, they are lightning fast (as are turtles, which I also fear). Have you ever tried to catch one? Those little suckers can move like a fugitive running from Dog and Beth….fast and reckless! The second reason I think it’s appropriate to deem them as monsters is because there is one in particular that has taken up residence in our mailbox. Ipso-facto = “anything unnatural or monstrous”. Umm, call me crazy, but a wild, fast moving, climbs on anything and everything, animal living my mailbox is exactly that. Unnatural.

The first time I ran into my little mailbox monster, it was a complete surprise. I’m fairly certain the neighbors must’ve thought that the dodgy ice-cream truck driver pulled over and flashed me his man bits or something, by the way I shrieked and freaked out. It was mildly ridiculous – my arms were flailing, the lioness’s mane that is my hair was blowing around, forcing the long curls into my eyes, which sucked because it made me for frightened that the mailbox monster would jump onto me and I wouldn’t know it due to the temporary blindness from curls in my eyes! It wasn’t a pretty sight. There was a freight train of cusses, which came steaming out of my mouth that resembled the following: “f&ck! Holy sh!t! You little turd! Sneaky @sshole, living in MY mailbox!” Stupid lizard.

The second time I saw this rascal of a reptile, I was almost as surprised as the first time. Almost. As I reached my hand into the mailbox, which is a seemingly innocent act, I noticed the dark flash that is the monster living in my mailbox. I saw his long tail disappear from the bottom of the mailbox and instantly got the “holy crap, where did he go?!” feeling. Alas, there really wasn’t anything for me to worry about as he escaped out the emergency hatch, also known as the hole in the bottom of the mailbox. Sneaky, right?

Now, I’m used to seeing little lizards here and there. It’s Hawaii. I would be silly to think they weren’t around. They’re always around our door, and on occasion, one finds its way inside and climbs the screen door. I will admit the lizard is kind of cute. He was teeny tiny and non-threatening in any way. The beast who resides in the mailbox, however, is not so cute. He’s large, and dark colored, and I imagine he waits for the day when he can bite me for intruding into his home on a daily basis.
This horrifying lizard has caused such fear and anxiety that I dread going to the mailbox. If I get home and it’s dusk…forget it. The mail stays in the mailbox for the night. There is no freakin’ way I am risking one of my precious digits for a magazine or piece of junk mail. Not going to happen. I’m can only imagine this makes the monster living in there happy. I bet he knows the anxiety he causes me. I bet he senses it, like a dog. The only time I can comfortably get the mail is if the conditions are just right. And what might those be, you wonder? 1. Sunlight/daytime. 2. Approach the mailbox carefully 3. Smack the mailbox door down with whatever object I brought outside with me, in case I need to defend myself against and attack by the beast that is lurking in the depths of the darkness inside the mailbox. He is like a ninja, all stealth like and just waiting to make his attack. I’m on to the lizard’s way, though. I will not be fooled by his seemingly harmless existence.

There are two things I know for sure that make me feel better about this whole situation. I hold onto these two truths like a monkey holding onto a banana. The first is that this lizard will not live forever. Eventually, he will die, as all living things do. It’s my hope that he hasn’t married the lizard down the fence and started up a baby lizard factory in the mailbox. That would push me over the edge. And finally, the second truth…the one I firmly believe in that relieves me of all anxiety I feel when seeing the USPS truck pull up in front of our house…in just a few more short weeks, Joe should be home and then he can be the one to wrangle with the monster that lives in our mailbox.

This, That and the Other

A few random things that have been on my mind lately…

1. I hate birds. Our landlord feeds them, so they’re always around. And whose car do they crap on? Ours. I have to wash it every week because of the amount of bird dookie that accumulates. Seriously birds, I know what you eat. Why must you poop all over the windshield to give me an “insider’s look” at your diet? Gross.

2. Bugs. Actually, bugs are number one on my list because I find them in the house all the time. I’ve come to fear nighttime, not because of monsters, per se, but because of some of the monstrous roaches I’ve seen in the short 7 months I’ve lived here (although not all in the house). I don’t know if it’s because I’ve recently put up roach and ant traps so they come around for the bait, but I do not particularly like flipping on the light switch and seeing 3 dime size bugs scurrying around on the kitchen counter. I’m going to have to be the roach/bug catcher version of Dog the Bounty Hunter (perhaps my name shall be…”B!tch with the can of Raid” the Bug Hunter). He gets all his black leather gear on, belt with cans of pepper spray and handcuff earrings securely fastened so they don’t fall as he’s chasing a bond jumper. I am going to have to get a holster to put my can of Raid in, secure it tightly to the one belt I brought here and wear around the house at night. It will look extra sexy with my pjs. Oh, and I’ll have to visit Claire’s to pick up my very own handcuff earrings. No outfit is complete without handcuff earrings.

3. I’m very excited Sex and the City 2 is about to be released. In preparation, I’ve watched each of the 6 seasons and will be watching the first movie tonight when I get home from work. Starting the entire series over from the beginning is like seeing Joe for the first time after we’ve been separated for a while –I loved him the whole time we were apart, but I definitely fall in love all over when I get to see him again. Yes, I just compared Joe to Sex and the City. Normally, the list of things I love goes something like this: 1.cheese 2. Joe 3. Tyra Banks, but due to certain circumstances, the list has been reprioritized and is now: 1. Joe 2. Cheese 3. Sex and the City.

4. Eclipse. In t-minus 1 month, the 3rd movie in the Twilight series, Eclipse, will be released. Much like with SATC, as explained above, the same will happen with Eclipse. I plan to read each of the books over, watch both movies and then will be completely prepared and ready to watch Eclipse. Well, provided there are any available tickets the first month it’s out.

5. Hiking/climbing a hill is best done wearing appropriate attire. I’ve done the legwork, trust me on this one. It’s not the best idea to wear flip flops, a skirt, tank top and bikini when hiking in Hawaii. For some reason, I thought this an appropriate outfit while hiking the Pillbox. While I did make it to the top, without being blown over by a gust of wind or falling and breaking or scraping any part of my body, I realize now it probably wasn’t the greatest hiking attire. Granted, my intention was to go to the beach, not hiking, but for some reason when I found the trail, I felt the need to climb it wearing my beach outfit. Silly? Yes. Worth it? Definitely!

Dogs and Their Owners

There have been a few things that I’ve bared witness to since being in Hawaii. Some are funny, some ridiculous and some stupid. Even though I haven’t personally seen any of these things in other parts of the country (and I’ve driven across it 2 times), I’m sure that they occur. Hopefully, they just don’t occur as often as they do here.
There are many, many dog owners here in Hawaii. If I had my way, our dogs (okay, Joe’s dog and “my” dog, which isn’t really my dog at all but he’s in love with Joe’s dog – therefore, they’re a package deal) would be here right now. But the circumstances are such that they can’t be here yet. I’ve tried to convince Joe that we should buy another dog, but he hasn’t (yet) caved to my persuasion. Joe has Dixie, a little dog in a Rottweiler body. I say this because she likes to cuddle and sit with or on you, depending what her mood du jour is. She is super sweet most of the time, but every once in a while her b!tchy alpha female side roars its ugly head and then she gets in trouble. “My” dog – which is really Joe’s parents dog, but as I mentioned above - is in love with Dixie and so they’ve since become a package deal, much to Joe’s dismay. Wherever Dixie goes, Hershey goes. Hershey is a mischievous and scared English Springer Spaniel and probably the funniest dog I’ve ever met. Anyway, to get back on track here, we have dogs, and eventually they will be here with us.
There are two things that I’ve found to be true, in regard to dog owners here. The first is that everyone brings their dogs to the beach. Hard to believe, right? Most dogs I’ve seen here are little – the ones that can ride in a basket on a bicycle and most of them actually do. However, I was at the beach the other day and there was a beautiful and younger looking black lab that was tied up in the shade. The beach was busy and there were many other dogs. For some reason, the owner thought it a good idea to let this dog off the leash. I could see if there were few people on the beach, but the beach was freakin’ packed full of beer guzzling men, bronzed beauties and spf 60 slathered babies. Now, the minute this woman let her dog off the leash, it took off running like an escaped convict. The dog was sniffing and roaming and seemed to be a very nice dog, just excited to be let lose. The woman proceeded to scream and yell at the dog for about 30 minutes. Mind you, the dog was back and right by her side, but every once in a while would mosey around to meet and greet. And this woman kept doing her own thing was screaming at the top of her lungs at the dog. It was really quite embarrassing and annoying. I think instead of screaming at the dog, making her look like a crazy lady, a better option would have been to simply either put the dog back on its leash or left it at home. It’s not exactly rocket science.
Additionally, on the way to the beach, I saw something that I have NEVER seen and thought it couldn’t possibly be real. As you may imagine, scooters (or those fans of Scrubs – Sashas) are fairly popular out here. They are the ultimate beach town transportation – cheap on gas and easy to park. I was headed out to Lanikai by bike and I stopped at the top of the little hill to take in the beautiful scenery because it’s an amazing view of the ocean and Kailua Beach. However, something roadside caught my eye and so I turned. What did I see, you wonder? I saw a man driving a scooter with two red milk crates stacked one on top of the other. This may not seem all that interesting, except for the fact he had his dog carefully teetering on the scooter, within the confines of the two milk crates!! Call me crazy, but that didn’t seem like the safest transportation for a dog. And it was not a little dog – it was a yellow lab. A yellow lab, sitting precariously on the back of a scooter, held up by milk crates. His front paws dangled over the crates edge and were almost on the drivers back, which I have to say, cracked me up. It was dangerous but definitely funny. I suppose, it takes all kinds to make the world go ‘round.

Dear Chemotherapy Fat Fairy....

Dear Chemo Fat Fairy,

You were kind enough to visit and bless me with an additional bit of weight when I was going through chemotherapy. Maybe it was because I shaved my head, therefore I weighed less and you wanted to compensate. Perhaps it was because you thought I was going to waste away to nothing as so many chemo patients do because of lack of appetite. However, because of your diligent effort, I was able to not only maintain my original weight, but also hold steady the additional 25 lbs you “blessed” me with. It’s since been over 4 years since I have finished chemotherapy and radiation,and have moved to Hawaii (no more cold winters = no winter weight) yet I cannot seem to shake the extra weight you oh-so-politely delivered to my waistline one morning.

In case you couldn’t tell, I am working very hard at dropping the additional pounds. You may not know it, but it’s not very easy to lose the weight, being 29 and in menopause. I can manage the hot flashes. I can even manage the crazy mood swings (thankfully, Joe can too). But,if you could swing our new apartment and pick up the extra 25 lbs you dropped off 4 years ago, I would greatly appreciate it. Not only would I appreciate it, but I would without question become your number 1 fan.

Thank you in advance for your consideration of this matter.
Your former, and hope to never again be, chemo patient.
Sara

My Newfound Knowledge

Well hello, hello! It’s been a busy few weeks for me and so I’m just now getting around to posting again…sorry!

Here are a few things I’ve learned in the past week: 1. Being so tired that your brain can’t comprehend even the most basic tasks is frustrating, and mildly entertaining. 2. Mariah Carey was in a movie I have never heard of…yes, she “starred” in a movie other than Precious or Glitter. It’s sad I know this. 3. The sun may not actually rise until after 7, but it’s completely light outside by 6:10am. And last but not least number 4. I really think I have an addition to the Twilight series. This may be equally, or even sadder, than my knowledge of number 2.
Last week all my siblings met me at the airport to wish me a fond farewell as I embarked on the long journey from New Hampshire back to Hawaii, the island where cars do not come equipped with blinkers in automobiles. Or, I should say they (my brothers, at least) met me at the airport to try and get me or my 140 lbs of luggage searched. While my checked luggage did get searched (damn those TSA for smashing my MAC eyeshadow to bits, all over the place! They couldn’t have chosen to smash the cheap makeup…), I didn’t know this until getting home the following day so they received no instant gratification. If anything, they received a crack shot as I bent over to remove my flip flops to put them in a bin to go through security…so HA! The jokes on them!

I had 2 layovers on my trip, one 4-hr in Boston and one 6-hr in Vegas. In case you’re wondering, 6 hours IS more than enough time to leave the airport, go to the strip, gamble/sightsee/drink/whatever your vice, and make it back to McCarren, go back through security and catch your plane. It’s not something I would do, but I did plan the logistics, just in case the airport caught fire and I had to make my escape. It’s always important to have a backup plan! However, I was immediately peeved upon arriving walking through the terminal for one reason. In the city that never sleeps (sorry NYC, I think Vegas deserves the title more), why does the airport close all but 2 restaurants/snack bars by 9pm? WTF?! The two choices: BK and unknown sandwich shop. Now, I tend to get really pissy and cranky when I’m hungry so when I saw those as my only two options, the bitch switch flipped and I was really unhappy. I went through BK’s line and then proceeded to go through the airport trying to find my next terminal (this did not help the crankasaurus factor). It was that token terminal way on the other side of where I was. I had to go outside, across the traffic, into the next building, down the elevator, across a parking lot and to a dodgy looking bus stop to wait for the shuttle that would take me to the correct terminal (I had hoped, anyway. I watch Criminal Minds and CSI – I know what kind of stuff can happen to an unsuspecting traveler!).

I was dropped off at terminal two just in time…to sit around for the next 5 hours. Because my flight wasn’t until 3am, I was told there wouldn’t be anyone at the ticket counter until 11p. I had no choice but to find a seat and wait it out. Sigh. However, the only seat I could find, next to an outlet (my computer battery lasts about as long as a blonde’s attention to one item in a Swarovski store) was on the floor, next to some random office. I set up camp and started watching Sex and the City to pass the time. It was uncomfortable and boring, but it’s what had to be done. I watched the ticket counter like a hawk watches its prey – intently. Just before 11p, it occurred to me that I had seen an entire row of kiosks when coming through the doors of the terminal. By this point, I was exhausted from traveling and the beer that was wearing off from my Boston layover didn’t help the energy factor. I packed up shop and moseyed the 20 or so feet to the kiosks. Because my luggage was checked all the way through, I only had the 2 carryon bags. I wondered “Did I really just sit on the dirty floor for 2hours when I could have been upstairs in a chair, at the gate??” I put my credit card in and wouldn’t you, I had no bags to check and the glorious machine popped out the golden ticket (well, boarding pass) I had been waiting 2 hours for. This is why traveling exhausted and alone can suck. In hindsight, it’s actually pretty funny. I guess Joe is right; my powers of observation could use some improvement.

As some of you may know, jet lag can be a bitch. Because I’d been on the east coast 3 weeks, my sleep schedule was all messed up. This would be the reason why I have knowledge of number 2 on the list above. I woke up at 4am a couple of days after returning and turned on the tv to see if there was anything good on that would keep me entertained. As I mindlessly flipped through the channels there was one that caught my eye…Wise Gals. I pressed “info”, read the brief description, pressed “enter” and hoped the movie wouldn’t be as cheesey as I had suspected. I typically enjoy Mira Sorvino’s movies and since she was in Wise Gals, I thought maybe there was a chance her role would redeem the film since Mariah Carey was also in it. I was wrong. It was like a really terrible accident – you know it’s coming, but you cannot peel your eyes away. This movie was that train wreck for me. The first 5 minutes into the film and the cheese was oozing from the television. Yet, I was compelled to continue watching it. It was almost 2 hours that I’ll never be able to get back, nor is it anything that can be unseen. My curiosity and HBO apparently got together, hatched a brilliant plan to rob innocent people of 2 hours of their lives and I became an unfortunate victim of such said scheme. Damn them!

Again, due to the time change and my body’s unwillingness to adjust to HST within a couple of days, I now know that even though the sun doesn’t actually rise until around the 7am mark, it is actually completely bright outside by 6:10a. For those who don’t know me well, I am not a morning person. I have always hated being up early – especially BEFORE the sun. (If the sun isn’t ready to be up, why should I??) However, it’s been almost a week and I’m still up super early (well, super early for me). Seriously, in what world did I allow myself to wake up at before 7 and immediately think “wow, it’s almost 7; I slept in today?” It’s just not right. Not for me.

Now, let’s move on to number 4 of the list. I should begin with “Hi, my name is Sara. I think I may be addicted to the Twilight series”, take a number and then find a seat. When the Twilight hoopla began, I was impervious to its powers. However, it was just a mere 4.5 month time span and I had seen both movies and read all four books. In fact, Breaking Dawn was my travel companion last week when flying home. It’s a massive book – 750 pages – and I read it in 3.5 days. It’s true that Stephanie Meyer writes in such a manner that the reader cannot put the material down, but jeez. I don’t think I’ve ever read a book that big in my entire life, let alone in such a short time! She’s a literary wizard! And to top it off, with this whole “yay, let’s wake up before dawn” schedule woke me up at 5am Sunday, to which I responded by turning on the tv and browsing through the options. And what did I find on Showtime? Yep, Twilight. I watched it in its entirety and then immediately turned the tv off. Unfortunately, when I turned Stevie back on (yes, I named our television Stevie TV), Twilight was on again. I had no choice –it had to be watched. Again. And so this would be why I came to believe I may actually have a Twilight series addiction. At least if Joe was here, he’d be outwardly disgusted in my choice to watch it, which would then lead me to probably turn the channel (only to find it again when he sleeps, watching it in secret…hehehe) to Tosh.0 or some other funny, yet mindless show. I need limits in order to keep my ridiculousness in check and Joe is very good at that. He is my ridiculousness wrangler, if you will, and with him being away all this ridiculousness is going buck nasty. Boy, he sure is going to have quite a job to do when he returns…

My First Tsunami Warning

The date: 27 Feb 2010
The event: My First Tsunami Warning
The location: Kailua, HI

I was looking forward to a nice and relaxing weekend since I didn't have to work. Unfortunately, Mother Nature didn't get that memo. It's 7AM and I hear the warning alarm sound from the fire department. I sit up, pissed off, thinking "why are they running the alarm test at 7:00am on a Saturday!? So I mosey up and walk into the living room and turn it on Island Weather to see what the forecast is predicted to be for the day so I can plan something to do. As I'm making coffee, I hear the reporting conducting an interview with a gas station owner, which I found to be very odd. After a few more minutes, I actually turned around to view the tv and noticed they were still talking about gas shortages and lines, etc. - all of which I could not understand why they'd be talking about on the Island Weather channel. I go back to the kitchen and pour a cup of coffee and return to the couch. And then I see it…the ominous warning scrolling across the bottom of the television screen. It takes me a minute to put everything together, but then it was like the three matching cherry pictures lit up the slot machine that was my brain at that point. I read that there was a large earthquake off Chile which had triggered a tsunami. My initial thought after the information registered? "Oh crap."

I put down my coffee, changed from pj's to actual clothes, grabbed the keys, told Joe there was a tsunami warning and then walked as fast as my little short legs would take me, out to the car. Then our landlord starts talking to me from out her window. It was nice of her to tell me about the tsunami, but I began to get irritated when she continued on chatting. Seriously; it was not coffee-chat hour. After a few more minutes, I was able to end the conversation and getaway. I drove down the street and saw the lines of cars waiting for their turn at the gas pumps. I weighed my 3 gas station options and chose the one I thought would be best. As I waited, I tried calling my sister to let her know that I was safe, but apparently the rest of Hawaii was also trying to call their families because my 4 calls didn’t go through. I was, however, able to send text messages (yay for text messages!). After waiting for about 15 minutes (which considering the circumstances, I didn’t think was too bad), I slowly and cautiously crept the ol’ 4 Runner up the pump and filled her up. Once she was nice and full, I checked the time, considered my options and decided I had time to go to the store and see if there was any bottled water left.

It was probably close to 8AM by this time and I knew that I had to scoot pretty fast, considering Joe didn’t bat an eye when I told him before leaving the house. I made my way over to the Don (Don Quixote – it entertains me so, calling it “the Don”), grabbed a cart and headed straight for the water isle. As I figured, there was practically nothing left. I did manage to find a few large bottles of Dasani and one hidden 6 pack (no, not beer) and tossed them into my cart. I figured it really wasn’t the time to stand there doing my usual price comparison. After I felt confident there was enough water for the two of us to last a couple days, I did the truffle shuffle to the snack isle. Naturally, the isle I went to was filled with people tossing can after can of Spam into their cart. Yes, I was chuckling to myself upon seeing such a sight. Unlike the locals, I tossed a few boxes of granola bars into the cart and maybe 6 cans of soup since I knew we had more at home. On my way back to the check out, it occurred to me that we might need handi-wipes, band-aids, etc. so I diverted the fast moving cart over to that section of the store and filled up with such said products. Oh, and pedialite – always a good source of electrolytes.

Once everything was packed up not-so-nicely into the back of the car, Hula Girl and I sped off towards home. We got there in less than 5 minutes and I hurried into the house to wake Joe up since I’d heard on the radio that the wave was supposed to hit just after 11AM. However, this time when I told Joe, he actually listened and got up. I was lazily drinking my coffee, figuring he’d tell me I was overreacting, but no, no. He was up, packing stuff up, telling me to get a bag and pack up whatever I didn’t want to lose. And me being me say “Do I have time to take a shower?” Because showering before a possible tsunami is at the top of the priority list. My checklist of things to do: Shower. Check. Shave legs. Check. Shampoo, condition, rinse. Check. Makeup on. Check. Pick proper bikini and outfit. Check and check. And if you’re wondering, Joe looked at me like I was ridiculous when I frolicked about wearing the new sundress I bought for our Valentine’s Day adventure. Hey, just because one is preparing for a natural disaster, doesn’t mean said person doesn’t have to look like a natural disaster.

Joe and I packed up our stuff and importants in record time, bringing load after load out to the car. Our landlord, again, stopped us to chat, saying she was staying put. We told her we were going with the “better safe than sorry” premise. We locked up the house, not knowing if it would be there when we returned (which, is a really weird, sort of sad feeling), jumped in the car and headed to base to get a few things from Joe’s work. We discussed where to go and ended up deciding on a spot near the ocean, but high in elevation. I know – it doesn’t really make sense, but it’s what we did. Apparently, most others got to the Pali Lookout early so there was no room anywhere – people where parked up and down both sides of the highway. We did have a great view though – I was able to see some whales playing in the water! 
After waiting until 2P, just about 3 hours after the tsunami was meant to hit, and no sign of any big wave, we decided to leave. We had to drive through Hawaii Kai to get home and it was practically a ghost town. We tried going to eat in town, but nothing was open – it was really eerie. We continued to drive and ended up going to the only open place in Kailua, and the place was packed. Everyone was celebrating the fact there was no great wave that wiped out our little slice of heaven. And so we had a pitcher of beer and basket of curly fries to celebrate our non-tsunami. After about an hour there, we headed back home, which, thankfully, was still there (intact even!).

I’m really thankful that Joe was here for my first tsunami warning. I’m fairly certain that if he was gone and I was alone, I would have lost my mind and panicked, not packing anything useful. But now that I have one warning under my belt, I feel confident that if it happens again, I’ll know what to do to be prepared. After all, I’ve heard once (or a hundred) times, preparation is the key to success. And a success it was!

Skydive Hawaii 02.14.10 (93 photos), by Sara Egner

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Taking the Plunge

It's now been 4 days since Valentine's Day and I'm finally getting around to posting about my V-Day surprise. It's not from a lack of desire, believe me, but from the fact I still can’t quite describe my V-Day surprise in a way that could do the experience justice. I liken describing the experience of jumping out of an airplane to a woman describing her experience in giving birth - as in, she can tell you her experience and what it was like for her, but you'll never fully understand exactly what she means until you give birth yourself. Does that make sense? I hope so.

It was the morning of Valentine's Day and I still didn't know what Joe had secretly planned. I had a few ideas in my mind, but he wouldn't tell me for sure if any of them were correct. I had convinced myself that we were going whale watching for the day. When Joe woke up, I asked him for the 100th time what we were doing and he refused to tell me. I asked if I needed to wear anything in particular. Now, this is a point which we disagree....he swears he said I needed to wear shorts, but I have no recollection of this particular conversation. I asked if I had time to go buy something new for our day of unknown (well, unknown to me anyway), and was given a 30 minute max time limit. And so I grabbed a kiss, the car keys and was out the door within probably 2 minutes in order to maximize my time limitation. Now mind you, at this point I was still convinced we were going whale watching so when I came home with a cute sun dress at the end of my 30 minutes and Joe said "why did you buy a dress? You can't wear a dress - you have to wear shorts", I was more than a little cranky. And since there was no time to spare I had to wear a less than favorable outfit, which kept me in a cranky mood, yet it seemed to entertain Joe (humph).

As we left the house, I brought my newly purchased cute sundress, long sleeve shirt, sneakers and bathing suit - just so I was prepared for anything. Well, actually, Joe told me I needed the long sleeve and sneakers which got me to thinking we weren't going whale watching. I asked question after question as we drove down the road. Finally, Joe said that I only needed to know was that I had to have something in my belly, so we pulled over at the always healthy BK so I could grab some grease in a bag. Coincidentally, our favorite liquor/poke store is in the same complex. Joe bought some poke and I bought BK. When we finally got back on the road, he said "I was going to get you a nip but they don't sell them there" and this got me to thinking - what could we possibly be doing to make me need sneakers, long sleeve shirt and alcohol?

Since I'm still relatively new to Hawaii, I tend to still get mesmerized by the surroundings and because of this, I forgot that I was trying to figure out the great Valentine's Day mystery. We drove over the LikeLike toward the airport and Pearl Harbor (well, I think PH is in that general area) and it occurred to me that maybe we were going to visit the USS Arizona and Mighty Mo - something I've wanted to do since arriving in HI. However, we merged onto the highway and started traveling north. Now, Joe says that I never listen to him, but that's just not true. Well, not always true. Most of the time I listen to him. And I certainly remember the majority of his stories, including the skydiving stories he told me ages ago. As we continued to drive, I asked if we were going to Dole Plantation to walk the maze - the response I got was a smile. There comes a point where the road forks - if you go right, it brings you passed the Dole Plantation. If you choose to go left, that brings you toward Dillingham Airfield, where there's only one thing to do....skydive. As we came to this particular intersection, I silently convinced myself that if we went left, I knew we were skydiving, but if we went right, then it could very well be the Dole Maze or hiking. Joe went right and I breathed a sigh of relief. The Dole Plantation was fast approaching on the right, but there was no slowing down...no, no, and we continued to drive right by it. At this point, I started thinking that maybe he had figured out where Lost is taped and was bringing me to the set or perhaps he'd found a great hiking trail that we were about to embark on. I was saved from my own thoughts though because our car needed gas desperately so we went down into Haleiwa to find a gas station. Thankfully, we found one quickly because we were just about out of gas!

Joe jumped out and began pumping gas into our thirsty car and I contently sat in the passenger seat, trying to suppress one particular option from my mind, to no avail. And then I heard it....the faint sound of a small aircraft. I stuck my head out the open window and looked up toward the sky, just in time to see a small blue and yellow airplane fly by. And in that instant, I knew. My stomach dropped and my palms became instantly clammy. Joe jumped back into the car and started driving, but instead of going right, toward the beaches, he went left - and by doing so, my suspicion was confirmed. I was frozen with fear (and a little excitement). There was utter silence in the car as we continued to drive. Finally, I was able to force one sentence - not a question; a statement - out, "There's only one reason to come out here." Joe responded, "Yep, there sure is." And as we continued to drive, I saw the first sign for Dillingham Airfield. So much for my reasoning miles back at the fork in the road! Apparently you can get to Dillingham by going right....who knew?! I was completely bamboozled.

We drove through the wide-open gate, where to the right was the parachute landing area, and beyond that the air strip. As we parked, told me to put my sneakers on and leave everything in the car. By this time, I was ready to mosey into the bushes in front of our car and expel the contents of my stomach (I didn't). I put my socks &, sneaks on, and with my shaky hands, managed to send one last text to my family (Val, you're included as family) wishing them a Happy V-Day and telling them that I love them. You know, just in case. As we walked into the lodge, I noticed all the hustle and bustle - there were people everywhere! We were told to sit in any available folding chair (there were about 5 rows - all completely empty), in front of the TV to watch a video and essentially sign our lives away, which we happily did. I didn't even read the waiver. All I saw were the humongous bold letters at the bottom of each page which somehow formed into the sentence "YOU MAY BE INJURED OR KILLED". Yep, sign me up.

And then came the waiting. We had a 1-2 hour wait before our jump, which, is possibly the longest 1-2 hours of my life. We sat on the deck, watching group after group get strapped and loaded up and then fall back to the earth. I swear, I have never peed so much in the same time frame as I did while waiting our turn!! I was so nervous! It seemed that every 10-15 minutes I was asking Joe to watch my camera so I could go empty my bladder. Finally, the time came. Joe was called up and they strapped him all in. I managed to get one final bathroom break in after he was strapped up, but before I was called. And then it was my turn. It all happened so quickly that I literally could not even comprehend what was going on before they told me to get out to the truck to be driven to the plane. At this point, I still didn't have any instructions on what I was supposed to do, and Jake (my tandem master) was so nonchalant about the whole thing. There were a thousand things going through my mind as we drove out to the plane, and then we all hopped out the back of the truck and lined up for a few pictures and instructions. I mean, seriously, who needs instructions when you're about to jump out of an AIRPLANE, anyway??

Before I knew it, Group 17 was loaded up and the plane was "barreling" (going as fast as a rickety plane needs to go before climbing off the runway and into the sky) down the runway, "door" (sturdy clear plastic) open. I was next to the so-called-door. I turned around to see Joe and noticed he had something in his right hand....a rope!! A glorious, wonderful rope! I immediately reached up and grabbed that rope for all it was worth - my knuckles we white and I was peering out the open door as we climbed in altitude. My camera/photo guy, Kevin, was literally lying in front of the door, catching it all on film and in pictures (and as I watch the video, I'm so glad he did), as I sat there, rope clutched in a death grip in my right hand. We got to the very northwestern point of Hawaii and I could hear Jake rambling facts off in my ear, but there was so much adrenaline and so many nerves pulsing through my body that I didn't listen to anything he said. He asked if I wanted to give Joe a kiss before the jump and that I heard. I said "Yes, but I don't think I can - I'm strapped to your chest!" Jake's response? "Sure we can do that" and he somehow managed to swivel me over so I could give Joe one last kiss before willingly throwing myself (actually, I was strapped to Jake so he would technically be the one throwing me/us out of the plane) out of the plane. At this point, the only thing in my mind was "when the door opens again, I'm going be jumping out of it". And then it happened. A series of events seemed to happen almost simultaneously - Kevin "standing up", opening the door, Jake forcefully un-clenching my death grip from the rope and lurching me toward the wide open door, one step (literally) closer to the wide, open sky. "One! Two! Three!" And then we jumped.

The minute I was hurdled out of the airplane, my mind immediately went blank. I literally have no recollection of anything in the instant Jake and I took that final leap out of a perfectly good airplane and into the beautiful Hawaiian sky. Within mere seconds I realized two things: 1. I wasn't breathing; I was holding my breath, and my chest felt like it was thisclose to exploding and 2. our parachute was going to do one of two things - it was either going to open or it wasn't going to open. And since I was already plummeting to the earth below so I might as well breath, open my eyes and enjoy the trip on the way down. In the second it took for me to register all of this, I began to breathe normally (well, as normal as one can while in the midst of falling from the sky). It sounded like a freight train coming full steam down the tracks, and my feet were firmly planted on those very tracks. It's essentially like throwing yourself into a tornado, if you think about it. When you jump from the plane and are free falling, you're going in excess of 120 mph. Straight down.

It all goes by so quickly and before I know it, we're waving goodbye to Kevin and the noise of the freight train disappears and I'm harshly jerked backwards (Yay, that means our 'chute opened!!). And in an instant, it's peacefully quiet and I'm floating back toward the ground, safely attached to a strange man's chest. Jake was awesome and turned us left, right, left, right - as if we were on a floating roller coaster. It was beautiful and peaceful and the most amazing view I've ever had. As we approached the ground, I double checked that my feet were to be flat (they were) and Jake flawlessly aimed us into the middle of the landing area and ran us out into a perfect landing. I was shaking and immediately looked around for Joe, who seemed to appear out of nowhere. I wanted to run into Joe's arms, but couldn't because Jake was tugging at the various harnesses and latches that kept me safely attached to him as we gracefully floated to earth. Once he was done (probably less than one minute), I was in Joe's arms and thanking him for the best surprise I've ever had. I was shaking from the excitement and my face hurt from smiling so hard. And for as exhilarating as jumping was, it was still so much better being wrapped up in Joe's arms, knowing that I was safe and sound.

On our way home, Joe confessed that he wasn't entirely sure that I would actually jump. He thought maybe I'd chicken out. The funny thing was that that never occurred to me - not jumping. I had so many other thoughts running through my mind that it never once crossed my mind to stay below and watch him jump (which I think may have been even scarier for me). He knew this was something I'd always said I wanted to do, but he knows me well enough to know that I'd probably never take charge and actually do it, so I'm really happy he surprised me with this amazing experience. And as I sit here writing about the experience, my hands are shaking and clammy and my heart is pounding, which tells me that it truly is something I'll never forget. To the best boyfriend in the whole world, thank you again for signing me up to attach myself to a strange guy and hurl myself out an airplane from 12,000 feet - all on Valentine's Day. I love you more than you know!

http://www2.snapfish.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=1988186020/a=158077871_158077871/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=memolinkcobrand/

Honesty...is it always the best policy?

As I sit here, in the midst of the great job search, I wonder - is honesty really the best policy all the time? I do believe it's important to be honest, with yourself and the people you love. There are always the exceptions, which usually come in the form of "No, you don't look like a sausage about to bust out of its casing in those jean." That's something I'd considered to be the "little white" lie, which is okay when used sparingly. For instance, every once in a while before going out, I'll ask Joe "Does this look okay?" And he's sweet enough to spare my feelings by saying it does. However, upon walking out of the bedroom (after asking Joe this routine question), I catch something out of the corner of my eye that makes me stop. Yes, that would be the big, purple heffalump sitting in the corner - the silent acknowledgment which represents the almost 30lbs I've packed in the last 4 years. And while we both know I would look much better if the 30 lbs (and purple heffalump representation of the weight) were gone, Joe is kind (and wise) enough to tell the little white lie to prevent me from spiraling down into a fit of self loathing and depression. Pretty smart, isn't he?

There are other instances in which I find it perfectly acceptable to fib here and there. For instance, when you've just started a new job and you're new co-workers ask how you like it. if you don't (like the job), then it's probably not the best idea to say so. I find that it's okay to say "Oh, I like it." I suspect that it's most likely not going to go over well with your new boss if he or she hears that you hate the job. Especially, if you have a probationary period.

On a similar note, wouldn't it be refreshing to know the absolute truth about a job before applying for? And in return, you could be 100% truthful about what exactly you're looking for and what you're typical job performance is? For instance, this is a job posting I found online:
We are seeking an experienced individual for the position of Administrative Assistant! Duties will include greeting clients, answering incoming phone calls, preparing correspondence documents and reports, filing and managing administrative records, as well as scheduling appointments and meetings, along with various duties as needed.
Obviously, this is written in code to attract possible candidates -much like using an older picture of yourself for an online dating profile. You know, the picture that shows your thinner, tanner self back when you had hair? That one. And why does one do this? To attract more ladies or gents. When you think about it, it's really the same as job postings, right? Based on this theory, the aforementioned job ad, if written 100% truthfully, would say something like this:
We're seeking an experienced individual for the position of Administrative Assistant. Duties will include those listed and more, because really, we're looking for someone to be Office Bitch. Whatever needs to be done, will get thrown to you to do because the supervisor is too lazy to actually do his/her job. You will be expected to answer phones, fix random office equipment, order supplies and deal with a perpetually lazy and cranky boss. Must be good at taking lots of sh!t and doing so with a smile on your face, as you'll be doing the work for two jobs, but getting paid a barely livable wage. Don't expect any raises. Additionally, should you encounter any irate customers, it will be your job to kiss their @ss until they're happy, even if you had nothing to do with why they're p!ssed in the first place. After all, the customer is always right (and since you'll be office b!tch, this is part of your job description). Please email resumes and cover letters of interest to iwanttobeyourofficebitch@ficticouscompany.com.

Okay, so we've got the white lie and truthful job descriptions out of the way. Now it's time for part 2 - replying to the job posting. For the white lie version, use a standard cover letter and resume. Try to schmooz as much as possible (ie: experience, training, college, etc...) so the hiring company will want to bring you in for an interview and hopefully offer you this oh-so-wonderful job. May the best @ss kisser win.

However, sticking with this whole "100% honest" policy, let's explore what the reply would be, should a person respond to the no-holds-barred ad. I suspect the response would be something like this:
I'm a hardworking, educated and responsible person. I'm looking for a job that I like and one that will allow me to grow with the company, without having to sacrifice my personal dignity. I expect to have an honest workload (aka: one person's workload); I don't want to always be picking up the workload of lazy co-workers and supervisors. That sh!t's not happening. I will be respectful to others, as long as I am treated with respect. I will try to assist any annoyed or irate customers to the best of my ability, within reason, but will not stand there, get belittled (by anyone) and just take it with a smile on my face. Hell no. Additionally, there will be days when I'm super motivated and will come in early or stay late - even offer to help others, should they need it. However, there will also be days when I don't feel like doing sh!t. On those days, you can expect the following from my schedule on those days: 25% of the time spent drinking coffee, 25% messing around on the Internet and the remaining 50% spent simultaneously avoiding my supervisor and trying to find ways to look busy. And on those days, I will be out of here at exactly 5:00 so don't even consider asking me to stay late. And last but not least - pay. I am hardworking, can handle many tasks and expect a fair and competitive wage. Like you, I've got bills that need to be paid. Don't think I'm going to work for $25k per year. If you think for one second that's a fair wage for this job, then you might as well print this cover letter, take out your little baggie of weed and roll a fat joint because you're clearly smoking something. However, if you're still interested after taking all this into consideration, I can be reached at 555-555-5555 to set up an interview at your earliest convenience.

I don't know about you, but I'd much rather cut through all the phone BS and have the truthful job description! That way, at least I'd know what I'd be walking into and decide from there it was something worth pursuing. Unfortunately, that's not how it really works, so until then I'll just have to continue on with the charade. I'll put on that fake smile I've perfected over the years and make the best of my current job until I find something that makes me truly happy and puts an honest smile on my face.

Favorite Quote for today: "Nothing is impossible. The word itself says I'm possible!" - Audry Hepburn

This past Saturday started out like any other - sitting around the house trying to figure out what to do for the day, which quickly progressed into a very common (and frequent) conversation that typically goes something like this:
(me) "Want to go to the beach?"
(Joe) "Do YOU want to go to the beach?"
(me) "I don't know - kind of. What beach do you want to go to?"
(Joe) "What beach do YOU want to go to?"
(me) "I don't know - how about over to Pyramid Rock?" (Joe) "Nah. Kailua Beach?"
(me) "Nope. What about Lanikai?"
(Joe) "Do you want to go to Lanikai?"
(me) "We could drive to North Shore and go to the beaches up there."
(Joe) "I don't really feel like driving all the way up there."
(me) "Okay, so it looks like we're not going to the beach."
And we're back to square one. Awesome.

Now, I knew that the "Lost" final season premier was going on in Waikiki that night, and I knew there was no way I was going to get Joe to agree to go with me. In all actuality, I really can't blame him. I hate big crowds, being packed in shoulder to shoulder like sardines with thousands of other people. Hate it. However, my fascination with celebrities is unparalleled so it definitely would outweigh my dislike for crowds. But it didn't matter - we weren't even going to Waikiki. We continued to brainstorm on how to spend our day. Finally, it was agreed that we'd go see Avatar at the Imax downtown. I moseyed around the house, got ready to go, making sure to dress for the cool movie theater by wearing jeans and short sleeved shirt. We drove downtown to the complex where the movie theater is, only to walk around in circles looking for the theater. We knew it was there somewhere, we just couldn't seem to find the thing. After walking around for close to 10 minutes, we were guided in the right direction and headed across the street to the theater. And wouldn't you know, Avatar was sold out, and there wasn't anything else playing in that time frame that looked at all appealing. Well, appealing to me, yes, since I like chick flicks. Joe, not so much. So for all of our efforts and brainstorming, it seemed we were back at, yet again, square one.

Now, whenever we visit downtown, we always seem to visit the Yard House, which is this restaurant in the heart of the tourist area that has over 120 beers on tap and the most amazing mac & cheese I've ever had in a restaurant (yours is still my all time favorite ever, Mom!). And by this time, it was getting to be almost dinner time (now mind you, had we been in the theater watching Avatar, a disgustingly large tub of golden-y, delicious popcorn topped with finger greasing, clothes staining butter would have sufficed for a meal) so we headed, where else, but to the Yard House. Since I'm still not that familiar with the city, I tend to confuse where we actually are with where I think we are, and trust me, it's never close. I kept glancing at my phone, checking the time, mentally planning "what-if" scenarios. As in "what if I got to go to the red carpet arrival of the actors from Lost? What if I wanted to walk down and check out the scene? Would Joe be mad if I went?" And this was, of course, all very silly because by this point we were already at the Yard House - home to 120 beers on tap. It would be as if I brought him into the Victoria's Secret holiday runway show...he was so blissfully happy that I knew he'd be okay to stay in those particular surroundings while I went and got my celeb-watching on. And so I did.

Since we planned to go to the movies and I was in jeans, let's just say it was pretty freakin' hot shuffling down the street to get to the red carpet arrival before any of the actors started showing up. Being so short, all my pants are stupidly long and I was wearing flip flops that seemed to gain a mind of their own and became inverted, to which my response was to curl my toes, walk faster and put my weight towards the outside of the flops. About half way to the event, I could feel it. There was the familiar burning on the heel and toe of my right foot, which in an instant, I knew would become the mother of all blisters. But I couldn't let it slow me down. I had to get to my destination before I let the flops stop me in fit of agony. As I weaved in and out of the crowds of tourists, I concentrated on the prize that was awaiting me - a plethora of celebs that would soon be arriving. And believe me, once I got to my destination, it was worth every excruciating step in those demonic flip flops (which, once I found my spot at the end of the "red" carpet runway against the barrier, came off immediately).

And then I saw it. The fist limo, pulling up, the crowds screaming and cheering (although I'm fairly certain the majority of them didn't even know who it was at the time. It was more like the involuntary release of adrenaline and endorphins in the form of a whole lot of screeching (if you're wondering, I did not partake in the screaming or flailing of my arms). I watched as the first limo pulled up, released it's contents and left just in time for the second limo to pull up and follow suit. And so the ritual began - limo pulled up, fans screamed and waved, actors got out of the limo, limo pulled away, actors went to greet fans. It was really quite fascinating - much like being at the zoo and watching the animals from afar. Only this time, the animals were the actors from "Lost" and they (actors) were interacting with the people watching them (the fans). Oh, and there was no cover charge to get in, unlike the zoo. :)

All in all, it was a great experience, watching (in person!) each actor unload from his/her limo. It was really nice to see how each actor seemed truly humble about their fame, and instead of walking down the path lied out for them, they all walked over on the grass, down the barrier to meet and greet fans. There was one couple who whored out their baby and passed their little one to each of the actors willing to hold the child, while the parents snapped photos. Which, this made me slightly uncomfortable watching, but it was super cute to see Hurley, this huge guy, holding this tiny child, snuggling up to him like it was his own. The celebs seemed genuine in their appreciation of all the fans coming out to see the premier of the last season of their show, which was really nice to see. It also gave me the once in a lifetime experience to be within a mere 3' from well known celebrities, and even more, a realization that even though they are celebrities, they're still people (with emotions and feelings, just like the rest of us), too.

To see the pictures I took at the premier of "Lost", follow the link provided below:

http://www2.snapfish.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=1947167020/a=158077871_158077871/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=memolinkcobrand/

Just Another Day In Paradise

I must say, it's really disappointing how having a "real" job interferes with the very things that I hold near and dear to my heart, the things I consider to be the very essence of my being - frolicking in the sunshine and chatting with my friends and family online. I'm now into my 3rd week of working and it's really putting a damper on this little "pretend" vacation I've blissfully been on the past 3 months. It's not that I don't like working; I do. I like the sense of accomplishment of learning something new, meeting new people, and making a bit of money. However, I don't love what I do and that makes it hard to be excited to go there for 8 hours per day. Another thing that slightly bums me out about having a job is that it means I'm putting down roots here, 6000 miles away from everything and everyone I know and that makes me want to mess my human suit! Seriously, it's some scary stuff. As I mentioned earlier, there is no driving from here to there. There's only a 15+ hour plane ride, and that is not so fun for the hiney.

The very first thing I did today after getting out of work was drive home, take the work clothes off, put the beach clothes on, grab my book and a towel and drove the 2 blocks to the beach. All of this happened in a matter of 15 minutes - like a caged animal let out at feeding time...it was that sense of urgency! (Normally, I would walk, but it was already after 4pm and I needed to consume every possible ray of sunshine that I could.) And it wasn't even that I was really so hot and needed to go directly into the water, but I threw my towel down on the sand, not-so-carefully throwing my phone and keys into opposite corners so as to keep the wind from blowing it up and away, and headed straight into the water. Now, I'm willing to bet that most people get that "eek, this is chilly", suck in your tummy, jump up so the incoming waves don't go past the equator bit. Well, if you don't, then you're lucky. It was probably about 80 degrees and I still did this water dance! But, one wave was just high enough to hit above the equator so there was nothing left for me to do except dive into the water, and then stand up, facing the beach (so no big rouge waves blast me in the face as I open my eyes - that sucks), and quickly glancing to make sure the bikini is still where it should be - on, and covering the necessary parts (it was). And then I frolicked just long enough to catch a breeze and get chilly, so I got out and went to the towel (still intact), read my book and relaxed. It was perfect. Another perfect day in paradise.

In case you're reading this, wondering "Wow, it sounds pretty great. Are there any downsides of living in Hawaii?" Let me tell you, there are. Take for example, my very first unpleasant experience that I had here. It was probably about 3 weeks after arriving on the island and I was making my trek - the 1.7 miles - down to the post office to send out another batch of post cards. I had gotten a late start so it was nearly 5 by the time I got there and decided to turn around and come straight back to the house instead of moseying around any of the little shops. As I'm walking back home, I pass a juice store, touristy shops, Salvation Army and bank. Now, I do the proper bit and stop to look and make sure no cars are coming out of the drive-thru lane (I prefer not to get hit by any cars, if at all possible), and what do I see? There were no cars, scooters or trucks, but there was something frightening that caught my eye. There, in the very corner of the bank drive thru lane, facing the main road, was a man relieving himself, looking at me as I walked passed. It was so creepy, perverse and dirty! It was like a slow-motion train wreck in that I didn't want to look, but I couldn't not look! I immediately felt the need to shower with clorox upon arriving home because Johnson's Body Wash just wasn't going to cut it. And all I could think was "Seriously, dude. I don't know what your situation is, maybe you're homeless and that is sad and I feel for you. BUT, your kibbles and bits are NOT homeless. Those puppies should be kenneled inside their Wranglers at all times, especially during daytime hours. Nobody (ie: me) wants to see you watering the bank's bushes....eww." I mean, jeez!

And so to the conclusion...yes, even though I love being here in beautiful Hawaii, there are some downsides (public urination and exposure to some random dude's junk). And for that, I give NH 1 and HI 0. After all, I've never seen anyone peeing in the drive thru of Mascoma Savings Bank.

Spirit of Aloha !

The "spirit of aloha" is more than just a phrase. It's something that (it seems) many people living here take very seriously. The people I've met, for the most part, believe in living and spreading the aloha spirit. What does this mean? It seems that people living the aloha spirit tend to be very warm, outwardly friendly folks who seem to realize they are very lucky to live in such a beautiful place and don't take it granted. Most everyone I see, whether they are moseying down the street or sitting in the shop they work in, seem to genuinely happy people. This just confirms my belief that living where it's warm and sunny makes me a happier, less cynical person...and I love it! While I'm clearly not a native to the island, I am trying to live the aloha and be a warmer, happier, more accepting person. I mean, jeez, I've even gone so far as to trade in most of my dark colored clothes for happy, lighter hues! If that isn't making an effort, than I don't know what is!

Below is a list of random things that I've learned in the past 3 months while living here in Hawaii. Some are hard to explain unless you're actually here, but I'll do my best. Try to keep up as I explain some of the important "local" info that one should know before coming to the island.

H!, H2, H3 - The three main highways in O'ahu, uniquely named.

Likelike - Don't let anyone hear you call it the "like like" highway. Big nono. It's pronounced leaky leaky, as in "my kitchen faucet is very leaky." If you call it the "like like" - as in "I like you very much" - you might as well pack your bags and go back to the airport to catch a flight back to the Mainland b/c you will be shunned, effective immediately.

Pali - Pronounced "Pauly" - but not in the NYC/Bronx/Brooklyn accent way. The Pali and the Likelike are the two most common highways from Kailua to Honolulu. Well, those are the two I use anyway and since this is my blog, I get to label them as I see fit. :)

Manapua - "Mahn-ah-puah". The following description will probably sound as appetizing as "fresh baked diaper cake" but it's one of those things you have to try before judging. I tried my very first manapua over the weekend and it was SO good! Nothing could have prepared me for how tasty this island treat really is. It's essentially a Dunkin' Donuts-consistency-glazed donut, filled with shredded pork. And it's about the size of a whopper. See what I mean? Sounds gross, but don't knock it 'til you try it!

Hawaii (the word), with a decal profile of the State of Hawaii (the island chain) - Apparently, geography isn't taught in this state. Why else would one need to have a decal outlined profile of the state and its name plastered on their cars (Pride, perhaps)? At least in NH/VT we show our state pride in a more original way...two words - gun racks.

Traditional Hawaiian names - Kamehameha, for instance - I'm willing to bet right now you're trying to sound this one out. Am I right? It took me about 2 weeks before I got this one, and it's only because I asked Joe numerous times. It's pronounced "Ka may ha may ha". Seriously, there are too many "k's" and vowels in most of Hawaiian words I've come across. Good thing I work in a hospital where I get to try and spell these names on a regular basis.

And I'll wrap this post up with the two best things about living in Hawaii.

1. Spam. It's everywhere. Did you know that there are over 6 types of Spam? And those are found in only one store! And in case you're wondering, they are: Regular, Low-sodium, Tabasco, Cheese, Turkey, Chipolte.

2. Dog the Bounty Hunter & Co. Because he's not ashamed wearing leather vests (moobies -man boobies- may or may not be showing), leather or cargo pants, HUGE belt buckles, cowboy boots - everyone knows those are the most practical when chasing down convicts, sunglasses with long, dangly decorations and finally...those luscious locks. Who else can rock such a sweet mullet?! Additionally, there are two two things I am convinced of. The first: I will meet the Dog. The big bad Dog. The bounty hunter. Secondly: The State of Hawaii is going to create a state holiday in his honor and perhaps even hold a celebratory parade. It shall be named "Day of the Dog."

Hope everyone is doing well, staying safe and healthy. Thanks for reading!

Confessions from a Dashboard Hula Girl

Today, after another very long morning of interviewing, we went on a drive to North Shore to check out the ginormous waves. And by we I mean me and the dashboard hula girl. It was my very first time driving around the island all by myself. It was slightly boring because Joe wasn't there to chat with, but I did come up with ways to keep myself entertained. I'm fairly certain dashboard hula girl was pretty amused, as well.

As I was driving on the H-3 over to the other side of O'ahu, I found a good radio station that was playing top 40 type music, which created an amazing platform for me to work on my airband skills. That was all fine and dandy until I had to merge, then I actually had to concentrate on driving. Safely. I had all the windows down, curls flying everywhere, and I was belting out tunes in my finest "I'm a great singer...in the shower" voice, occasionally making up lyrics as I go (who hasn't done that). The sun was shining, no snow in sight - everything was going great - until, I hit traffic.

Luckily, everyone was still moving, just at a slower pace. And then I hear it. "I can feel it, coming in the air tonight. Oh lord. I've been waiting for all my life. Oh lord." Phil freakin' Collins! Hearing this throwback song, I lost all self control and began airbanding. Not just a casual air band. No no. A full on, drum solo like I was in concert with Phil and the rest of Genesis. My first thought was that my excellent drum solo rivaled Mike Tyson's. However, upon sitting in traffic, because I was compelled to beat those non-existent drums for all I was worth, singing at the top of my lungs, there is no competition. I would kick Mike T's airbanding-drum-solo's @ss! And then I realized all my windows were down. Whoops. I'm sure the other drivers sitting alongside me in traffic were wondering to themselves "How a Muppet got a license to drive??" , as I'm fairly certain that my air-banding moment of glory likened me to an out of control Muppet.

Nothing really exciting happened after the bit of traffic. Drove through the Dole fields, down through what look like Christmas tree farms (surely this cannot be what they are), and finally saw the ocean ahead of me. And it was especially awesome because I didn't use GPS or a map! I went with road signs and my gut feeling. I mean, seriously, if I took a wrong turn, where could I end up? Certainly not in Kansas. And I must say, even though I've driven across the States twice now without using GPS, it really still is just as exhilarating knowing that I can get to where I want to go without depending on technology! Sadly, upon arriving in North Shore, all radio stations were lost. Where they went, I don't know. Needless to say, all airbanding was halted, much to my dismay (and dashboard hula girl's dismay, I'm sure).

Sitting on the beach was nice and relaxing, as always. I was watching all the ridiculous people who thought it was a good idea to be frolicking in the ocean with 30+ foot waves. Every time the Lifeguard's voice came bellowing out of the speakers attached to his little lifeguard hut, he sounded a bit more annoyed. Seriously, how many times do people need to be told to stay out of the water if they aren't wearing fins?! Eventually, the inevitable happened and he had to make a rescue. Lifeguard and dumb@ass swimmer made it back, safe and sound.

Why is this relevant to anything? Because as I was watching the swimmers fight the current it made me stop and think. I went to college and obtained a degree. Which, this is what every guidance counselor in the world says you should do. It took me forever, but I persevered and graduated. Somehow along the way, I realized, I stopped pushing myself to be better. I currently spend countless hours searching for random jobs. But here's the kicker - they aren't even jobs I want. I've just been trying to get some easy, dead-end job doing what I've always done because I'm good at it, and it's comfortable.

Then I had an epiphany of sorts. I'll never have the career I want unless I get out of that comfort zone! Genius, right? Wish I could take all the credit for that little nugget, but I can't. Joe and I had this very discussion a few days ago and he questioned my motives. He said (spot on, mind you) to me "you always come up with these great ideas and goals, but you never follow through with them. You need to get over those hurdles and get out of your comfort zone! Stop saying "one day" or "I want to...." and just do it." Damn that Joe for making me realize I was letting the brick wall win all these years.

As I thought more about this conversation, and my little epiphany, I came to wonder if everyone goes through this? Does everyone, at some point or another, question how they've gotten where they are? And, if they aren't happy, do they find the courage to stand up and change? I mean, seriously, WTF have I been doing all these years?! When I heard "you have cancer" I was scared out of my whits. I challenge you to find a scarier assembled set of words! If I had let that fear stop me from fighting, I would probably be the main course at a worm buffet by now! Why, then, have I been gliding through life doing what is easy instead of what I want!? It's pretty freakin' ridiculous, right?

So this is my promise to myself. I conferred this with Dashboard Hula Girl (she agreed) and then came up with a solution. If I blog the things that I AM going to do, then I will be held accountable by everyone who reads this. It's pretty scary, but exciting! Below is my list of goals for 2010. They aren't resolutions to be forgotten in 3 weeks time, but actual goals that I fully intend to cross off my list this year. Want to know what they are? Okay, here goes.

1. Take the time I usually spend reading celebrity gossip and instead read more actual news. (I have even gone so far as to delete all my fav gossip website bookmarks from my toolbar.)

2. Become a bartender. (Why, you ask? Answer: Why not?! Who doesn't like a perfectly mixed drink??)

3. Leave my "career" comfort zone (Sorry Kenny Loggins, it's not the same Highway leading to the Danger Zone), by studying to become a professional wedding planner. Sound cheesey to you? Suck it. It's my dream, not yours. :)

4. Stop letting fear of the unknown make all my decisions. I kicked cancer's ass and I fully intend to kick down every other brick wall with the same determination!

5. Skydive. I have hope that it'll cure me of my fear of heights. (corresponds nicely with 4, doesn't it?)

6. Write more letters by hand and send via USPS. It's surprisingly refreshing receiving an actually letter, not just an email.

7. Wear a bra less often. (Just making sure you're still paying attention. Seriously people - it's not 1974 anymore. Fence in those sweater cows!)

7. Run more. I used to run all the time BC (before cancer), but stopped during treatment. Additionally, I will run, as a way of training for the race I plan to sign up for this year. Details yet to be determined.

8. Run more. No, this is not a mistake. Different reason - I will run more this year because I CAN. I have two perfectly good legs, and live in beautiful Hawaii. If I was still in NH, I would be bitching about the cold, doom & gloom of winter. There is no excuse now that I'm in HI.

9. Lose 10lbs and keep it off. In case you're wondering, this isn't as easy for me as it is for most. Being a 29 year old girl with the hormones of a 50 year old woman does not make for easy weight loss.

10. Love and appreciate every day that I'm blessed with. And I hope on the days when I'm pissy and being a crankasaurus, I remember to stop and do this.

And on that note, below is a quote I found while reading Jodi Picoult's "My Sister's Keeper". It's a perfect way to summarize this entry, and I think Dashboard Hula Girl would agree...

"That the people you love can surprise you every day. That maybe who we are isn't so much about what we do, but rather what we're capable of when we least expect it."

Intro to a Fascinating Life (and it's all mine!)

So, if you are reading this blog, then you presumably know who I am, but for those of you who don't, read on to discover a bit more about me. The basics: I'm 29 years old, grew up in NH - where the majority of my friends and family still reside (miss you guys), currently live in HI (YAY - sun, not snow!), have a crazy English Springer Spaniel named Hershey who I love dearly, although I'm not sure he would say the same thing about me since I make him wear ridiculous doggie outfits and put his long, curly haired ears into pigtails for my own amusement, and the most basic thing anyone who ever met me knows, I hate cold weather!

Still interested? Keep reading. I'll try to make it more of a nail-biting, page turning (I guess page "scrolling" would be a more accurate term??), post. By now you're probably saying "Okay, so the title is Intro to a Fascinating Life, but where the heck does the fascinating part come in - is the girl crazy?" Well, let me tell you the reasons why I'm a pretty fascinating person.

At age 25, I was diagnosed with Stage 2b breast cancer. My first thought: Seriously? Breast cancer? WTF, I'm only 25?! But alas, the biopsy was correct and so I went under the knife a few times, had four months of chemo (in case you're wondering, losing all your hair is most convenient in the wintertime, especially if you live in a cold region, because nobody questions why you always wear a hat), 7 weeks of radiation and that was that. I had an abundance of curls when I went bald, which, I was sad to lose them all. But, being bald somehow made me appear taller (this is what some people have said anyway), and it most definitely highlighted the fact I have an amazingly beautiful and evenly shaped head (thanks mom for not leaving me lying in one spot while my head was in its formative stages!).

Another thing is this: when I was in the 7th grade going into 8th grade, I met a boy, who, the instant I was introduced to him, I thought to myself "I'm going to marry this guy someday". Fast forward many, many years and that little 7th grade cute boy has since turned into a 30 year old hottie and is currently sitting behind me at his desk in our little slice of paradise. While we're not married, and may never get married, we are just as together as anyone who has signed that little piece of paper. It's really amazing; I honestly believe that sometimes you can want something SO much that you can really will it to happen. I guess you could say it's a facet of the power of positive thinking.

Let's see....other things...hmm. For one, I've been compared to Carrie Bradshaw on more than one, or 5, occasions. We have many striking physical similarities, although she has a much more svelte body at this particular time (pfff. stupid SJP and her skinny body). Aside from physical features and similarities, there are many, many episodes of SATC in which I act just as neurotic as Carrie. There are a few big (no pun intended) differences, and they are this: 1. I do not like Cosmopolitans. I have tried them and I just don't like them. I'm a beer girl. 2. I do not use my oven as sweater storage. I love to bake! 3. I could NEVER spend $400 on a pair of shoes (sorry Manolo) 4. She's a city girl. I'm a country girl. I think that is a pretty good summary of the Sara vs. Carrie comparison.

For all of the aforementioned fascinating stories, and many, many more to come, I hope you return to my blog for more riveting details of my fascinating life, and perhaps even a bit of entertainment!