Yes, I realize its been an entire 6 months since my last post and also acknowledge the fact that does not at all comply with the list of things I hoped to accomplish in 2010. Since it's a new year, I'm going to try and keep up this time. I mean, jeez, it's hard work and time consuming moving 5000 miles from the middle of the Pacific to the east coast! And now that we're all settled in SC, I have the glorious task of finding a job, which, you may know firsthand how much that sucks. I challenge anyone to tell me it's not a full-time job looking for a full-time job. If it isn't, then you're either really, really lucky, or you take a paper to the bar and "job hunt" right up on your bar stool while chatting with the bartender. Granted, that's not a bad idea, but I suspect it'll take a lot longer to secure an interview by using this method.
And on that note (the one that I've returned to blogging about all my latest adventures and mishaps in SC) I need to get back to my job search. Sadly, I've willed a great paying job to come to me, but apparently none have learned that nifty trick just yet. Stay tuned....
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
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.
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.
Friday, October 29, 2010
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...
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
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....
Saturday, July 10, 2010
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.
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.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
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!
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