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:

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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!