I'm back from my 5 day stint in Honolulu. (Stint, like its a prison sentence...?) Anyway, it was a gorgeous, hilarious time. There was much hilarity involved, especially on the first day GC and I were there.
As in:
1) We booked a swim with dolphins tour that catered specifically to Japanese tourists. Hi, we don't speak Japanese. That was....awkward. Especially when the boat crew asked us if we could swim and both replied, "Well, yeah, duh. Who'd go on a swimming tour without being able to swim?!" and he pointedly looked at the rest of the boat.
2) One of the deckhands is a world-champion firedancer. He offered us half-priced tickets to the luau he worked at after the tour ended. We got what amounted to "VIP" treatment--- a table abutting the stage, autographed posters, and an entouraged escourt back to our transportation.
3) We spent a couple nights with GCs friend from back home. Her three boys are under the age of 7. The 15 month old loved me. This is hilarious to me for reasons unknown. GCs friend is listed as totally awesome (and should be given the opportunity to be sainted).
4) I didn't actually adjust to island time until Monday. I left Tuesday. Hence, I am still on island time, and feel like roadkill when my alarm goes off at 5 to get to work. My body rebels and says "...NO! It's midnight!" I am afraid I will give in to that tomorrow morning.
5) I spent a couple hours at the airport in tears, trying to figure out a way to "miss my plane" so I could stay. Because I suck at math, I couldn't make the numbers work so I got on my flight and came home. On that flight? Six annoyingly amped-up Valley girls, and a smattering of small children. Two of those small children sat behind me and wailed the whole six hours to San Fransisco; one of them kicked my seat for the vast majority of the flight until I turned around and asked his mother to please contain him.
There will be a better summation later. When my thoughts extend beyond, Please let this day be over so I can go home and sleep.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Monday, November 1, 2010
Halloween
I am no longer allowed to watch scary sh*t. My overactive imagination ran away from me last night after watching several of my favorite scary movies (“The Descent,” “The Exorcism of Emily Rose,” and “Paranormal Activity”) before watching all of Season One of “Paranormal State.”
Yes, I am well aware of the fact that the show Paranormal State is a lame docudrama/mockumentary, but I can’t help myself. I love to be scared. I love wondering what is going on, and if there’s something I am not clued into because I lack capacities to tap into it. Hell, I love wondering what my dogs are staring at when they stare into the distance of a blank wall.
Well, last night I might have overdone it.
Because Dog had knee surgery, she is unable to go up and down stairs. The basement in our house does not have stairs so I can take her directly out to the yard so she can relieve herself. I have been sleeping in the basement with her because I hate the idea of her being sad and lonely in the dark and the crate with the cone of shame. So, I slept in the basement. Last night was Halloween. Every single noise I heard became an encroaching malevolent spirit.
I quivered in the dark, awaiting the blankets to get ripped off of me. I heard the baseboards creak to life and imagined the moaning voice of a trapped ghost imprinting itself onto an EVP. When the room cooled (because the heat is electric, natch), I pictured a violent poltergeist swirling in black smog above me. Blonde Dog whimpering in her sleep from the foot of the bed became a warning sign that some spirit was ready to pounce. I heard footsteps above my head. I heard gusts of wind. I heard a cat meowing in the distance. All of this set my teeth on edge. All of it is explainable. (My dad got up to go to the bathroom. The trees outside were dropping leaves in the blustery October night. Oh, and we have a cat in another room.)
All in all, I think I slept a total of twenty minutes. I kept dreading 3am. I couldn’t bring myself to get up and go to the bathroom (all of ten feet away), convinced that something was going to get me. I kept telling myself, "Its OK. Dog and Blonde Dog are both sleeping. They wouldnt let something get you; theyd totally let you know something was there- especially since its bigger than a squirrel." It kept running through my head, but it didnt pacify me- especially since both dogs are really giant chickens, and one of them is injured and PO'ed about being back in the Cone.
So, as much as I love to be scared, I think I overdid it this time. I have put in place a moratorium on scary forms of entertainment. The bags under my eyes are tired.
Yes, I am well aware of the fact that the show Paranormal State is a lame docudrama/mockumentary, but I can’t help myself. I love to be scared. I love wondering what is going on, and if there’s something I am not clued into because I lack capacities to tap into it. Hell, I love wondering what my dogs are staring at when they stare into the distance of a blank wall.
Well, last night I might have overdone it.
Because Dog had knee surgery, she is unable to go up and down stairs. The basement in our house does not have stairs so I can take her directly out to the yard so she can relieve herself. I have been sleeping in the basement with her because I hate the idea of her being sad and lonely in the dark and the crate with the cone of shame. So, I slept in the basement. Last night was Halloween. Every single noise I heard became an encroaching malevolent spirit.
I quivered in the dark, awaiting the blankets to get ripped off of me. I heard the baseboards creak to life and imagined the moaning voice of a trapped ghost imprinting itself onto an EVP. When the room cooled (because the heat is electric, natch), I pictured a violent poltergeist swirling in black smog above me. Blonde Dog whimpering in her sleep from the foot of the bed became a warning sign that some spirit was ready to pounce. I heard footsteps above my head. I heard gusts of wind. I heard a cat meowing in the distance. All of this set my teeth on edge. All of it is explainable. (My dad got up to go to the bathroom. The trees outside were dropping leaves in the blustery October night. Oh, and we have a cat in another room.)
All in all, I think I slept a total of twenty minutes. I kept dreading 3am. I couldn’t bring myself to get up and go to the bathroom (all of ten feet away), convinced that something was going to get me. I kept telling myself, "Its OK. Dog and Blonde Dog are both sleeping. They wouldnt let something get you; theyd totally let you know something was there- especially since its bigger than a squirrel." It kept running through my head, but it didnt pacify me- especially since both dogs are really giant chickens, and one of them is injured and PO'ed about being back in the Cone.
So, as much as I love to be scared, I think I overdid it this time. I have put in place a moratorium on scary forms of entertainment. The bags under my eyes are tired.
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