Friday, November 5, 2010

Stream of Consciousness from the beach

After months of planning, I have arrived in Hawaii! It started out as a pipe dream that I never thought would happen, and now I'm here!

This trip is either going to be amazing - making me believe in paradise, Eden, God, romance, true love and all things fairy tale (maybe not in that order). OR, it will reveal that reality, suffering, boredom, agony and general sucky things about LIFE exists everywhere, ruining my belief in all things beautiful and magical forever.

Just saw a "Honolulu Waste Removal" van. Hmm... It does have a rainbow on the license plate. Not sure if that's a sign, or what it is pointing to should it be a sign?

Passed by people holding signs begging people to vote someone into political office. I'm on a shuttle from the airport to the hotel. This shuttle is clearly marked. Obviously no one on this bus is a local. But I appreciate their waves and smiles anyway. Still unsure about the tone of this vacation.

I have decided to look for clearer signs. Looking for either a unicorn or a hooker. If I see a unicorn, it's gonna be a great vacation, full of amazement and wonder (kind of like what the circus always promises, but without the animal abuse and disappointment). If I see a hooker first, I'm going to spend this trip drunk. Really, really drunk.

I'm enjoying playing my newly invented game. Unicorn or Hooker? No one on the bus wants to play, including Mr J. Fuck him.

We made it to the hotel, so far no confirmed sightings. On a completely separate note, I always travel with my teddy bear, Toby. I find that carrying him around not only puts me in a more mellow mood, but makes people act nicer, friendlier even, towards me. Probably because they think I'm retarded.

So we're at the hotel, but can't check-in yet, because they haven't cleaned my room yet.

Who was in it last??


Lady Gaga tweeted a picture of a unicorn. That must be the sign I was looking for. On an unrelated note, Mr J thinks he might have pink eye. He is no longer allowed to touch ANYTHING!!! So much for my romantic getaway.

It's official. Mr J and I went to urgent care. He does have pink eye. In both eyes. I thought they were more of an orange, really. However I didn't go to medical school, and therefore cannot diagnose color. This means we can not go diving, snorkeling, sunglasses shopping, or anything else that involves eye-wear. I also have to drop some stingy, milky, substance in his eyes every three hours. Oh well, at least there's a beach, and penguins.

Why are their penguins in Hawaii?

Penguins! We saw motherfucking penguins! To be fair, I did not actually see any of the penguins fucking any confirmed mothers. Nor did I see any penguins fucking anyone. But I also wasn't watching them 24/7. It's entirely possible that they were fucking mothers while I wasn't around. What did they do when I was there? Mostly lie on rocks and smell of fish. But penguins man!


I like it here.

Oh hey! Did I mention that my brother lives here? Radio Active Slog found time in his busy marine schedule to party it up with us on Halloween!

 I went as Lady Gaga. He went as two horses in a man suit.
Mr J didn't have a costume. So I bought him a mask, and we told everyone that he was a member of the Crazy 88. 

We went out for sushi, and drank sake. I had never had it before. I can now say that I really, really like sake. The combination of drinking too much sake, and Hawaii being FOUR HOURS behind my home of New Mexico, I was passed out asleep in my bed by 9:30.


Our last day in Hawaii, and suddenly we realize that perhaps some of our friends are expecting souvenirs. In a rush, we ran to the local corner store. Picking out souvenirs is tricky. You want to pick out something thoughtful, and personal so that they all know you were really thinking of them. But you also don't want to appear to be playing favorites. At first you set a budget. Okay, you're not going to spend more that 5 dollars on anyone. But you can't find a unique, perfect gift for EVERYONE on your list for $5. Some of the perfect gifts only cost 2. So you think, I'll just buy that person two things, to even up the bill, and everything will be fair. But then, you worry that someone will think, hey, how come they got two things? I only got one. Maybe she doesn't like me as much as she likes that other person. And then you start stressing, and getting anxious, when it's drama like that that made you have to take a vacation in the first place!

Eventually, I decided to get everyone Spam. Enjoy your... erm.... meat.


Sitting at the airport, to begin the long journey home. Waiting, and I am not happy about this.

Let me explain how leaving Hawaii works. Before hitting the airline's check-in desk, you must get all of your bags inspected at the Agriculture Inspection Station. Then you check-in, deposit any bags you'd like the airlines to lose for you, and make your way through security, walk to your gate, board the plane, and finally take two Ambien and pass out on your tray table.

As smoothly as I just made that all sound, it does not go smoothly. At. All. 

The airlines open at 4am. Agriculture Inspection opens at 5am. The airport shuttle you took to the airport drops you off at 3am, because is the only time they could schedule you. So you sit, for two hours outside the inspection area, waving at the attendants at the airline desk for the last hours. They wipe down every visible surface, presumably disinfecting ones, rudely ignoring your waves. You get through agriculture quickly. Since you got there two hours early, you were second in line. The x-ray machine scans your bag, takes pictures of all the exotic sex toys you are taking home from the island. It's all deemed "OK" to leave the state, and you're off to check-in with your airline. Except, wait, suddenly all the desks are empty. All of the clerks have gone missing. So you stand in line, again. Still in that second spot. Waiting, waiting, waiting.

After 30 more minutes, the airlines reopen, they weight your bags to make sure they do no exceed 50 pounds. Heaven help you if they weight more that 50 lbs. They have a tiny Asian woman ready to screech at you if you dare go over 49.9. I know, I saw her go after the one person ahead of me. Claws, teeth, ear splitting sound. I was horrified, yet I couldn't look away. My bags were under 50, so I was ushered to the check-in desk. It's one of those self serve counters. Like the ones you see at the grocery store. The ones that make you scan and bag all your items. The that remind you how much hated working cash registers at your retail job back in high school. And aren't you happy you got yourself a real job? Except wasn't that employee discount great? An hey! If you're doing all the work, scanning and bagging your Doritos, and even looking thought the touch screen to identify what type of product you have before the scanner weights it, why are you paying full retail price? Isn't a discount in order? 10 percent, AT LEAST! FUCK! THEY SHOULD BE PAYING YOU! You're doing more that the self service assistant who never even checks your ID when you're buying vodka. And most likely you'd give less backtalk than the stock boy with the ear bud headphones shoved in his ear holes, with NOTHING PLUGGED IN TO THE CORD.

Anyway..... Mr J and I were on the first plane ride home, talking about the trip, how much planes suck and other such nonsense. Then Mr J confesses that he's sad that we didn't do anything much more adventurous than visit a marina and watch jelly fish swim around not eating other fish, despite my encouraging "FISHY DEATH" chanting. So we decide we will LIE. It's my job to come up with an amusing anecdote about some adventure we had. We will then tell everyone it, swear it's the truth, and bring light into every one's otherwise dark and joyless lives. You may have already seen the flaw in this plan. I'm not the best liar. I always take the lie one step too far. I know this is a problem for me. So I came up with a brilliant plan of my own. I will come up with something ludicrous, and see if Mr J thinks it's believable. He's overconfident in my lying abilities. If he hears the story, and green lights the falsehood, I will turn double agent. I will tell EVERYONE that we have a lie about Hawaii. That Mr J was feeling insecure about our boring trip, that he asked I invent a fake story to dazzle everyone. And that if they hear it, to please play along with the story. No matter how ridiculous. 

This now means that I can continuously take the lie farther and further down the rabbit hole of crazy. Oh sweet Jesus, this is the best thing that I have come up with. I would love to recite the story here, however it changes every time I tell it. The only constants are Carrot Top, tampons and para-sailing. Next time you see me and Mr J, ask us about it. He still doesn't know that everyone is just pretending, and enjoys pulling the wool over your eyes.. Feel free to come up with your own version and send it to me. I'll see if I can get a room full of people to pretend to believe it.