So, it's been a While

The past year was so busy. I broke my camera, and haven't been able to take as many pictures as I would have liked, but these are some of the ones I took with my phone.

This is off the back of one of the boats I work on. To say that I am lucky is truly an understatement some times.

This is my former roommate and my bestfriend/sister. She's in my Rottie's crate, back when we still lived together. My Rottie is just that big.

That's us-- a friend, me, and my bestfriend/sister at the Zombie Bike Ride/my Surprise Bachelorette Party

Review

OK, so I haven't really written much since March. Here's a quick recap of March through August 2011.

*April 09-- broke my elbow falling off a rock gym bouldering wall. Was out of work from 10 April til beginning of June.

*June-- went to Portland Oregon after returning to work. Got to see EL, meet her boyfriend, play with her dogs, and enjoy the delectable Pacific Northwest ambiance. And wine.

*June-- Got laid off. This was really unpleasant.

*July 02-- my layoff officially begins. Take off for the Summer Funemployment Tour with SA. We plan to get to Santa Monica, but don't make it. The air conditioner of my car doesn't work, so we made it to North Carolina, and called it quits. Managed to miss my friend's wedding when my car broke down. We eventually see Cape Hatteras, Kill Devils Hill, the rest of the Outer Banks, Virginia Beach, Washington DC, and Atlantic  City.

*August- Still unemployed in spite of valiant efforts to apply for work. Deep depression sinks in.

*August is ending soon. Still no job. Humiliatingly, must move in order to not be evicted for non-payment of rent. Continue looking for work.

Key West 2011

Theres really only one word that will adequately describe the Key West Experience of 2011. That word would be "Wow."

Aside from the usual debauchery that occurs any time there are friends in large groupings, there was a lot of staying out til 5am, and then sleeping til 4pm (mostly from my friends, and less so from me-- my body hates me and wakes me up at 7am regardless of how late ive been out). There was lots of beach trips that started out still drunk and ended quickly on the sand as the hangover hit like a ton of booze-scented bricks. It was spring break for a couple of major colleges, and so there were a ton of 18-21 year olds, most of whom were of the flabby, jiggly, overly-nekkid persuasion. I love being almost 30, and looking better than them. Score one for nerdiness, and only occasional binge drinking.

Duval Street was a mess of beads, sloshed drinks, body paint, nekkid people, screaming and crying college co-eds, stumbling frat boys in variations of a crappy uniform of Abercrombie-knockoffs with flipflops and backwards hats, mounted policemen, and annoyed locals. Oh, and some guy dealing weed on the trunk of a police cruiser while the cop stood on the corner and flirted with some girl. That was kinda funny.

The weather was gorgeous. I took some really beautiful photos. There were lots of laughs, and some irritating people. Overall, it was a fun trip. Ill post some pictures sooner or later.

However, the flights there and back were less than lovely. Most of the problems were due to the fact that Atlanta International is a sh*tty airport. Nothing ever goes according to plan there, and Delta is the worst airline on the planet. I try extremely hard to avoid them, but man, they seem to be the only carriers to the places I go. My flight home from ATL was delayed more than an hour because Delta screwed up some other connecting flights, so more than 30 people on various flights missed their planes home to MA. Instead of letting us go off on time, they held the flight, rebooked all the people who missed their flights onto my plane, and then there were mechanical issues.

Though, Id have glad dealt with a longer delay for mechanical issue if I could have avoided the turbulence all the way from ATL to MA. Im a decent passenger, but for the whole 2 hour trip, I white-knuckled it home and bit off all my fingernails in the process. Holy cow, I have never experienced turbulence like that before, and I hope never to again. Stupid thunderstorms.

Wierd Dreams

So, last night in between carrying Dog up and down the stairs, when I finally was able to get some sleep, I had some of the most bizarre dreams Ive ever had. I frequently have quite vivid dreams, and I am one of those people who have tactile dreams (ie, I go swimming in the dream, and I can feel water lapping at my skin). This has both benefits and drawbacks, but thats not the point.

The point is this:
Last night, I dreamt that I went swimming in the Gulf of Mexico and got stung by a jellyfish. Then, I slowly morphed into a doughnut. Yes, a jelly doughnut. The transformation was slow and painful, and I remember thinking God I hope I dont lose my legs in front of a police station.

Yes, I am a wierd, wierd humanoid. At least for the time being.

Bummer

So, Dog slipped on the ice yesterday. She cant put any weight on the leg she had knee surgery on back in the fall. I have a sinking feeling poor Dog is going to need to have a second surgery on that knee.

:(

The Upper Gauley

Last night, while watching a movie I really shouldn't have been watching, MO and I discussed the possibility of an adventure trip this summer to West Virginia. While West Virginia itself conjures old people with straw in their mouths on rocking chairs, moonshine, rickety guns, and meth zombies for me, it is also home to the best Class V rapids on the East coast. The Gauley River runs through the state of West Virginia, and is classified as Upper and Lower, based on a couple of factors, but the one that matters to me and MO is the rapids classification. The Upper Gauley is about 10 miles of more difficult water (IV and V), whereas the Lower Gauley is about 11 miles of easier II and III.

*

Now, anyone who knows me and MO in real life, knows that we are both a bit obsessed with adventure sports. And they also know that we are more than slightly preoccupied with a movie called "The Descent." "The Descent" takes place in a National Park in West Virginia; we are already squealing about how we are going to act out scenes from the movie.

We've been climbing a lot more frequently this year than in years past, and we're working on getting qualified to take a lead climbing course. I do not know if we've decided to go caving and climbing while we're in WV, but I wouldnt be surprised if we do.

*

So, this is exciting. I love beaches and all, but I think this might be the highlight of the summer. Here's hoping we can get our friends together for an adventure!
*Photos arent mine; not trying to pass them off as mine, or profit from them. Google images, ladies and gentlemen-- not mine.

Success!!

As evidenced by my previous post, I had nearly come to the end of my rope and was considering tying some knots in it and swinging from tree to tree with said rope after the nightmare that has been apartment searching. I use the past-tense now because....I found a place!

It was no small feat. Let me explain.

I have been looking in an area that is more metropolitan than suburban, mostly for my mental health. The housewives of Suburbia look at me like Im a wierd combination of Wh*re and Leper. (Please. Like I would ever go near your fat, short, bald husbands, you judgy harpies. I aint interested.) At first, I thought it was all in my head, and then someone else mentioned it to me, and I felt less insane. Which was nice for a change. Usually I feel like Im taking crazy pills, so any sense of sanity is appreciated.

ANYWAY
Like I mentioned, this metropolitan area is notorious for its rather steep rent, and for its centrality to lots and lots of jobs, young people, stuff to do, fun bars, public transit, and museums. (My favorite!) I had seen some seriously scummy areas while looking for an apartment. None of which included parking. So, these tiny, scummy apartments in less-than-safe neighborhoods, which were what I could afford, would have an additional charge for parking, for pets, and to say nothing of utilities. I was most seriously dishearted. All of a sudden, the $900 apartment was $1200, for something the size of a billards table, and was unsecure at best.
I live alone. Im female. I really can't sleep if I am afraid someone is going to break in.

I found a place that included parking, heat and hot water in the rent. And the landlord is an animal lover, so there is no extra charge to have Dog with me. I think I stood in that apartment for all of five minutes before I decided I was going to rent it. Its clean, its bright, its well-maintained. I think itll be a good fit for me and Dog. Yes, it is a bit small. Its a studio apartment, so there's not a lot of free room. Luckilly, Dog and I dont really need much space. I just needed a place that would allow me to have her. I am thrilled to be moving in less than a week.
Also in less than a week? Key West. Aww yeah.

Oh, the Humanity!

Clearly, this is a post with a very maudlin, hypermelodramatic theme. Just go with it.

Ive been looking for a place for me and Dog to live for about two months now. Its become most seriously annoying. Every place that allows dogs is about $9,024,957, out of my price range, and even then is still the size of my car. Oh, and the places that are in my price range? Size of a matchbox car, and they dont allow dogs.

Poor Dog, she's starting to get a complex. She's a snuggly quiet little nugget o' love who only occasionally misbehaves. And the misbehaving is never chewing shoes or tearing carpets or barking. Its always running around with a toy in her mouth, mooing, while she tries to get me to pay attention to her at a moment when Im otherwise occupied. I know every dog owner thinks their dog is the BEST DOG EVER, but I think Dog actually is. She is quiet, non-smelly (except the faint wafting odor of Fritos since her last grooming), non-farty, and exceptionally cuddly. I would trust her with a newborn baby on the floor covered in peanut butter and steak.

Needless to say, I am having a hard time accepting that prospective landlords are unwilling to even negotiate on the issue. Its been really frustrating. I always mention upfront that she has to come with me, and that I am willing to pay an extra $100/month for her and have the rugs cleaned (if there are rugs) when I move out. So far, nothing. I keep looking, because god knows if I stay where I am, someone will be leaving in handcuffs. My April move-date might have to be pushed back, though, if I keep encountering this kind of rejection.

My New Challenge

Aside from my love of travel, those who know me in person know how much I love a good challenge. I can be goaded into almost anything in the guise of a challenge. I say "almost anything" because I dohave some limits. Heh.

SM challenged me to see who can travel the most this year, and while we have decided upon very, very subjective criteria to decide who has the "coolest" trip, it promises to be a very fun one. (I hate to brag, but while SM has taken an early lead with a trip to Mexico, I am shortly on my way to Key West, and then to Portland Oregon. If you're reading this, SM, you're goin' down!)

This is not, however, the challenge Im talking about.

My latest challenge is to really learn how to rock climb. Im not talking about just going up any ol' route. Im talking being able to pick a route, stick to it, and use technique to get up to the top. Ive been doing some low-key bouldering for a while now, but Ive decided that it's time to kick it up a bit. Im looking to take a class on technique.

HB loves to climb on belay. I am not a belay type of person. I lost a piercing when my parachute deployed, and it was so painful and traumatic that I resist wearing a harness when I climb at all costs. I prefer the bouldering wall, where gravity is your worst enemy, and you know you're going to fall flat on your back. Hopefully you hit a mat, and not an unsupervised child running over your mat. (More on that some other day.)

Ive been climbing V0s for the last two weeks. Im getting progressively better, which is nice. I am not quite able to climb V1s yet, which is disappointing because theyre the next level up. Something to work at I guess. I need V0.5 so that I can improve a little without the frustration.

So far, its been a fun experiment. Ive been unable to open doors for the last few weeks, but thats how that works sometimes...

Not For Nothing, But...

...there's a Wind Chill Warning here in Massachusetts. As in, it's -30 degrees farenheit with the wind chill factored in, and expected to drop some more tonight.

...It's 75 degrees in Key West right now.

blerg... why do I live in Massachuesetts?

The Demise of A Newly Minted "Adult"

I made it 20 days into 2011 without going anywhere outside of the Mid-Atlantic states. I am moderately impressed by my restraint.
Unfortunately, this morning I was notified of ridiculously low airfare to Key West, and yielded to my weakness. So in a mere 40 days, Ill be headed to the gorgeous sundrenched Florida Keys to stay with the fabulous GC. It'll be a lovely 9 day excursion, and this time Im flying instead of driving (WOO!!).

Really, I did the math this morning. Last time I went, I split tolls, a hotel, and gas one-way with GC. The whole thing was about ~$275. For a mere $50 more, I will make it there in 6 hours, instead of 27. No stress, no traffic, no overwhelming urge to pass out at the wheel. Its a surprising fare, primarily because flying into Key West International Airport is notoriously expensive. Im talking upwards of $700 when I looked last for a trip in January back in October. With the exception of this fare, Ive only seen airfare to Key West at prices higher than a flight to Honolulu.

I am duly impressed, Delta Airlines/Orbitz. I tip my hat. You both must be desperate to whip up some business. Seriously, kudos, because it worked. I have been watching the Key West Six-toed Cat Cam ads all week prior to leaving for work in the morning; I have been bitterly complaining about the unfairness of it all. How cruel is it to show white sand, blue skies, and people in shorts and tanks and bathing suits when here at home it is grey, 19 degrees F, and theres a good 42" of snow that has fallen, with another 8-12" predicted? Ads like that should be outlawed as cruel and unusual punishment for those of us in the northern climes.

But I digress.

Like my title says, this signals the demise of my attempt at adulthood. My New Years Resolution of staying home and saving money has erroded at 20 days. I dont think I was really cut out for homeownership anyway. Its all for the best, really. :)

The Never Ending Week...

...continues. Its only Thursday (she whined, dispassionately flinging herself prostrate upon her work surface)!

I know... I had a whole nice long break before Christmas until the Monday following New Year off, and now Im whining because I'm at work. I am grateful to have a job (don't get me wrong--- really, REALLY grateful), but some weeks just seem to take forever to finish. This week happens to be one of them.

I think it's mostly because I am struggling so much with the whole adulthood thing. Swapping from Irresponsibile to Responsible has been waaay harder than expected. I knew it would be an adjustment, but good grief. This is particularly painful.

People continue to post photos to Facebook. I can't tell if they're taunting me specifically, because they have been informed of my Year of Austerity, or just sharing their respectively awesome trips. Either option is equally likely, especially since I spent all of last year doing the very same thing to them. My friend from college AWP is going to Vegas for a week. She announced this last night. I am going no where. I am heartbroken. It's like kicking a puppy, it seems. . . to me, at least.

So here I am. Stuggling to complete a workday Thursday. I have another hour and 5 minutes to go. Not that I am counting, of course. Wrestling with this particular package has been exceptionally difficult. I am truly grateful that we only get this material in once or twice a year.

Frustration Is Occurring, and It Hasnt Even Been 96 Hours

As you might have gathered from the title of this entry, I have become more than a little annoyed. I have been attempting to Be An Adult since 01 Jan.
"Be An Adult" is loosely defined as such:
1) Pay bills on time.
2) Not jet off on vacation because I can or feel like it
3) Find a place to live for more than 6 months
4) Be responsible
5) Do laundry more often so I dont end up buying new underwear to avoid washing the worn ones


As you might have deduced, my list basically entails me to act like a person, not an infant. I have to pay the piper for my Year of Irresponsibility.
I think I took too well to the irresponsibility part last year. I really, really do not want to be responsible.

Enter into evidence, Exhibit A:
An acquaintence mentioned on facebook that he's in Cancun.
My first reaction was, "I WANNA GO THERE!" and look at Orbitz for flights to Mexico.
But then, I remembered my resolution. I pouted, and closed the window before the search completed.
Crisis averted, right? Because I dont deal well with temptation.
No.
As it turns out, not so much.
Exhibit B:
AM asked me today to help her plan a family trip to Hawaii.
^!%#$%!!!! Seriously?! Arrgh! I did. I helped, and definitely had to hold myself back from booking all the things I suggested to her for myself.

IT HASNT EVEN BEEN 96 HOURS AND IM ALREADY DYING FROM BEING TIED DOWN.
If this is being an adult, I am going to suffocate before I make it a week!!

Year of Austerity

I was thinking over the week-long break I was able to enjoy that last year was my Year of Irresponsibility. I resolved last year to have a huge amount of fun, do what I want, and deal with the consequences later. Having gone through the photos I accumulated over the course of 2010, I would say I did a pretty good job of that.

Now that its 2011, its time for me to change it up. This year is the Year of Austerity. I'm going to pay off my credit card, pay off at least one of my student loans, and pay my mom back the money she loaned me for my carpet deposit. It will definitely not be a year that is as memorable for its fun the way that 2010 was, but in the long run it will probably be good for me.

So, here are my goals for 2011:
1. Pay off credit card (wont take too long-- balance is less than 3gs)
2. Pay my mom back for the carpet deposit
3. Throw huge amounts of money at my student loans
4. Pay off my car loan
5. Find a new place to live
6. Play with my dogs
7. Have fun in New England instead of jetting off to somewhere exotic

So, this year I'm trying to be as responsible as possible.


...we'll see how long this lasts.

Climbing

As predicted, my aerial ballet class royally kicked my rear. I'm finally able to sneeze without wishing for death. Of course, me being me (read: retarded), I scheduled a second aerial ballet class.
It's tonight. I'm totally pumped to learn more climbs and more flips and rolls and such, but this is not a post about aerial ballet. This is a post about rock climbing.

Specifically, how hard it is when I'm no longer 18.

I'm almost ten years past 18 at this point, and while I would like to think I'm pretty well adjusted and much happier now than I was then, there is a point of contention to that statement. When I was 18, I swam 7.5 hours a day, lifted and ran every day. (Thank you, D-1 college athletics!) So, when I was 18, I was in significantly better shape than I am now. Im not in bad shape, I just can't bench press more than my body weight anymore. I'd be happy if I could bench press half my body weight right now, but that's a story for a different day.
I used to climb with some friends from the dorm I lived in temporarily when I was in college. One of them taught me to boulder, and the other taught me to climb on belay. We used to go maybe two or three times a month after freshman year, so it wasn't ever like I did it on a really regular basis. Both friends have sinced moved to remote and exotic locations like the Moab Desert, and Milwaukee. (Seriously.) I have remained in the area, and stopped climbing for a number of years.
I picked up bouldering again two years ago. Again, not a lot of consistency in my practice, but I would go and have fun, and enjoy myself.
Apparently, gravity is stronger now than it was when I was 18. I can't climb for the life of me anymore; its really disappointing and disheartening. I like going so much, but its really hard to struggle with something that used to be so easy (due to all the swimming and freak upperbody strength).

Two recently acquired friends are really into it. Like, reallyinto it, and I accompanied them last week after my top rope refresher course (there was a method to it, I swear) to a rock gym I don't usually frequent. After some seriously disorienting news, I tried climbing. I was unsuccessful. I tried again. More failure. Blerg. I watched them scamper up the walls with a good deal of ease. I kept reminding myself that they'd been climbing a lot more often and a lot more consistently than I had. Still hard. Argh.
So I kept at it, gritted my teeth and kept trying. I discovered that I really loathethe automatic belayer that gym has. Doesn't catch quite quick enough for me to not feel like I'm plunging to impending death. I'm sure that gripping the holds will get easier, as it always does with practice, but until then, I am less than thrilled with the idea of returning. It's very intimidating to go into a place with a bunch of really well-skilled climbers; it's really obvious that you're new. Painfully, if you will.  Also useful? Some climbing flats would be nice. Maybe for my birthday. Until then, sneakers or rentals will have to do.

Anyway, I had a good deal of fun with the aerial ballet of last week even if it did make me wish for immediate death when I sneezed, and not so much fun with the climbing. Oh well. I'll keep going because I know that I will make progress. Slow, painful, skin-ripping progres...

Friday

Last night was a great night.

I went to visit JD, who had a long and disappointing week. After interviewing for a job three times over the course of two months, she was informed with a form letter that she was not offered a job. Her mood was quite south of jolly. Me? I was all disoriented from a couple of out-of-nowhere revelations about family and friends, so I wasn't entirely myself, either. So, I brought over a big bottle of wine and we ordered a white pizza from the place around the corner from her apartment. We watched a bunch of wierd movies and had some good laughs and deep conversations-- one of which was waaay too intellectual for a drunken midnight.

Sleeping in was nice, too-- I hadn't done that in quite some time. We grabbed some brunch at a local place, and then took a nice stroll through the neighborhood. I found a jar of local honey, and it was delicious! We even gave directions to some lost person; I hope they were right...

Anyway, by the time I left at noon, I was feeling happier, and I think JD was too. Sometimes you just need a good night with some friends to lift your spirits. Having been friends since we were 14, I think that just the company can be comforting. It's nice, almost like having another sister. You don't need to say anything, but you just know you're with someone who gets it, whatever it might be.

Aerial Ballet/Trapeze School

On Monday, I was able to take an aerial ballet class. It was my very first, and right away, let me say, I was hooked.



Class was held in a very large, airplane-hangar-like building. There was a setup for trapeze beside the beams from which a very long swath of peacock-green cloth was suspended by carabineer. It was me, the instructor, and another person in the class while a bunch of people were on the trapeze platform.


The instructor had us begin with a basic climb, which I was nervous about mostly because I haven’t climbed a rope since, oh, fifth grade. Climbs involved wrapping the silk around your leg, making one foot flexed, and then stepping on the fabric on top of the opposite foot and using it like a stair. Slide your arms up, wrap, step, repeat. Sliding down, things got a little warm—cloth burn on my palms and feet and legs.


I tried a bunch of different things: wrist locks, ankle locks, a twisty-spinning thing, a couple of flips, some poses. It was really, really cool. Most of all, it was way less scary than I had anticipated. I was really intimidated to walk into the studio and try –I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to climb the fabric—but I managed to not only climb, but try all those various moves. I was really impressed by the instructor, who was able to break steps down and assist when needed (like when I swung a little too far out and came too close to a wall for comfort); randomly, she graduated from the same school I graduated from, and we have some mutual friends. The world is a small, small place.


I have another class next week, and I have to say, I am really looking forward to it. This is a hobby that combines three of my favorite things: spinning, flipping, and being airborne. Also: fighting gravity. The only thing about this that doesn’t make my heart race is the price—it is a little on the expensive side. But, because it is so much fun, and it is two people per class, I think its worth it right now.


So today is the dreaded delayed onset muscle soreness day. And boy oh boy am I sore. My wrists and ankles still look like I have ligature marks; my forearms are screaming; I haven’t been this aware of my ribs since I broke one in college. Oh, did I mention that my chest hurts when I breathe or sneeze? I got one heck of a workout at aerial ballet, and I am pumped.


I won’t be so pumped tonight when I go to my top rope refresher course and cant climb worth a hill of beans, but, whatever.

Honolulu, November

My last trip to Hawaii ended close to a month ago, and I have since returned to the snowy arctic that is Massachusetts. It has been downright brutal. No snow, but when the temperatures are being called “unseasonably cold,” you know that it’s bad.

Let me start from the beginning.


I arrived in Honolulu for the second time this year in the early afternoon. It was sunny and beautiful and it made me forget all about the screaming children and broken entertainment systems on both of my flights. (What a coincidence! TWO flights with nonfunctioning systems.) I hopped on the shuttle and napped until I got dropped off at my hotel, where I checked in, got settled, and hopped across the street to snooze on the beach.


I got some dinner just as the sun was setting at a take-away place my sister and I had eaten when we were there in March, and had a happy little picnic on the beach. Got to do exactly what I wanted to, which was watch jets land and take off over the ocean. I think I like watching that as much as I like being on a beach.


GC made it to the hotel a few hours later, and we got caught-up, made a list of stuff we wanted to do, and crashed.






The next morning, our phone went off at 530. I couldn’t understand the person on the other end of the line. I figured that she had the wrong number and was about to hang up when I recognized the words “dolphin tour.” And then she said, “No worry. Everyone speak English.” The rest was in Japanese. She was calling to wake us up to make sure we’d be at the shuttle pickup on time. She called 45 minutes early. We had a two minute walk. Gah.


GC and I got onto the shuttle and something felt… off. The tour guide looked a little panicky. She leaned over and repeated, “No worry. Everyone speak English.” And now GC and I were really concerned. We looked around. We were the only non-Asian people on the bus. Our tour guide handed us a release form, and the bus took off for a part of the North Shore, while she played a video (in Japanese).


The deckhands turned out to be the only people on the boat who spoke English. They laughed at us a bunch and wanted to know how we’d managed to pick them; they specifically cater to Japanese tourists. As that information wasn’t included on their website, there was no way for us to know that.


We eventually got to see a couple pods of dolphins. And while it was really very beautiful and extremely cool, I was a little disappointed that we didn’t spend more time in the water. I guess most of them had a hard time swimming; the deckhands were visibly relieved when we told them we could both swim well. The dolphins chased the boat for a while, and they jumped and spun, and it was really, really beautiful.


One of the deckhands hooked us up with a great discount at the luau he danced at. He told us he was a world champion firedancer, and had danced at a private recital for Oprah the week before. So, that evening, that’s where we went. The dancing was astounding. The dancers were awesome, and the music was really very interesting. I was a little skeeved out by the narrator and many of his comments. There was just this undertone of fetishizing the exotic brown sexy dancers that made me feel uncomfortable. I don’t know if anyone else noticed.


The other high light of the trip was going to the North Shore. That was really very different from our time in Waikiki. GC and I rented a car, and went to Waimea Falls and Waimea Bay. Her parents had been married at the falls, and so went to see it, oddly the day before their anniversary. As expected, it was gorgeous, green, lush, and extremely beautiful.


I ended up spending a bunch of time at the North Shore after GC went to the airport. She left a whole day before I did. I got to watch a surf competition from Haleiwa. Spent the whole day in the sun on the beach, and kept seeing these four turtles around. They were always really close to each other, and mostly up at the same time. They reminded me of my fam.


Anyway, loved it. The trip was too short, but a lot of fun.

Island Time

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.

Dog and Blonde Dog

...courtesy of the Maternal Unit