Yup, it's Friday.
One more day in paradise, then it's home to...
Yeah, home is pretty damn good.
So I wrote a whole big, lovely post last night, but the internet connection got all fucked up, and I have been unable to post it.
Fortunately, I wrote it in Word--so it wouldn't get eaten.
UNfortunately, it is in Word--on my laptop--so I cannot post it from the computers in the hotel lobby.
(so I'm an addict, SO WHAT??? WANNA FIGHT???)
Anyway, I'll post it when I can.
I'll post a couple crappy camera phone shots when I'm done here.
Oh, I tried to view the blog, but access was blocked due to the word "fucker".
It actually tells you why it's blocked, so that's cool.
Have I mentioned how much fun we're having?
Well we are.
We have a couple of things to do this afternoon, and then it's off to a dinner cruise.
Tomorrow we're going to go snorkelling again (more about that in the Great Lost Post Soon to Be Posted) and fly out in the evening.
I can't wait to see my leetle boys--they've been having fun without me, but I still want to gobble them up as soon as I step off the plane!
Kid Rock does not.
And now my phone rang and it is Becky so I am going to go talk to her.
(Ok, I finally got my in-room internet working, so I have been able to fix my fucked up template and add this pre-written post, the one I mentioned above)
I swallowed a lot of seawater today, but it was good.
Not as good as those special times when I’ve swallowed a lot of semen (or seamen, for that matter!), but not unpleasant.
I figured out snorkeling.
I did NOT figure out rear body sun block application.
I saw a couple of big ole sea turtles—
While I was sitting on the beach feeling grumpy about my husband’s location.
He had wandered off, and I was left alone again.
I felt the turtles were inviting me into the water, so I saddled up and plowed back in.
I’m such a baby.
I really do love adventures, but I figured out my problem:
I don’t much care to experience ANYTHING if there’s not someone there to share it with me.
I love people and connections with them more than any other thing on this earth.
(Except dessert, but that’s a given.)
So, as I swam out, he swam in, to show me the great coral he had discovered.
From then on, we swam together, holding hands and floating above the gorgeous seascape.
We saw some cool fish, nothing too spectacular.
The coral was pretty amazing, though, and the fish we did see were so pretty.
We were at a tiny beach somewhere…don’t know where.
I think it’s true, though, that Hanauma Bay isn’t the hot spot it used to be.
There are still tons of tourists going there, but we heard it isn’t the best spot.
Which is so
I am, of course, in love with every last drop of this place.
We are scheming and dreaming of ways to live here.
We could get a 2 bedroom, 2 bath, 750 square foot condo for about a half mil.
The price isn’t so bad, but the size….!!
I am not in love with the price of gas and milk here.
One of our tour guides told us why milk is so expensive here.
He said, “There is only one cow.”
And, conveniently, at that moment our bus passed a field containing one cow.
It was pretty damn funny.
8 bucks a gallon for milk, though??
Snorkeling was good, and we’re going to do more.
Let’s see, let’s see…
Only 2 days left.
Time sure does fly when all you’re doing is having fun.
Talked to the kids today.
They were hilarious, and are having a great time with grandma.
They are my little dears…and I can’t wait to see them.
I have had lots of dreamy dreams and thinky thoughts in this place.
One thought I had is of a partnership.
My best friend, J, and I need to write a particular series of books.
She is too busy writing her dissertation right now, but maybe I can talk her into it…
She would be the brains of the operation (duh, like did you catch my doctoral candidate hint??) and I would be the creative juice box.
No, I’m not telling.
If I told you what her phD is going to be in, you’d figure it out pretty damn quick.
(that’s PDQ for you acronym lovers).
Oh, so there were these girls in our little group at the Polynesian Cultural Center
(yes, Mark, I know who runs the joint…it was still informative and entertaining, though! Hehe.)
Ok, back to the girls.
They were gorgeous.
Mr. husband had been asking me if I could tell what language they were speaking.
I knew it wasn’t French, and I knew it wasn’t Spanish, Italian, or German, but neither of us could pinpoint what it was.
When the guide asked them where they were from, they replied, “Holland,” and I said to myself, “Oh!! No wonder I couldn’t tell.”
Hubby then said, “So what language are they speaking?”
(and, yes, we were being discreet.)
I said, “Dutch.”
He said, “Not Holland—“
And I cut in with, “Hollandaise? Yes, they are quite the saucy little things.”
We are total dorks.
Anyway, I was pretty much mesmerized by them for the whole day.
And their lanky Irish companion was a lucky young man indeed.
I love people, have I mentioned that today?
I love watching them interact, and I love imagining what their stories are.
I love seeing the way he looked at each of the girls, and the way his bushy-haired friend seemed almost an after-thought to them all.
The way his smiles lit up the group, and the way theirs illuminated the entire island.
Their tan little legs and their laughter.
My other favorite moment of that day was when the singer guy at the luau invited all the couples who were honeymooning or who had an anniversary in August to come to the stage and dance together, there was a young lesbian couple among them.
Why was this so great?
Besides the fact that they were cute and obviously in love, it was particularly swell because the PCC is owned and operated by the great and abominable church itself: the Mormons!!!
The sweet lady next to me said, “Is that two…GIRLS??”
She seemed appalled.
I grinned at her and affirmed.
The guy sitting next to my husband had a giant “Y” on his hat.
My adorably unobservant husband started talking to me about how the church should sell BYU (the ‘Y’ represented on that guy’s hat) to the state so that they could do away with the atrocious Honor Code and just let it be a school, so that the scaredy cat mormons who love the safety of Provo would not flock there anymore and it could finally be thinned out to a less chokingly-high percentage of mormons in the population.
That was a mouthful!!
I don’t even know if it was coherent, but I’m too lazy and/or apathetic to go back and check.
Good luck with that.
The point is, it made me chuckle.
And I thought I didn’t have anything to say??
Funny how certain words remind us of certain people, or certain eras.
Funny how life is never really fair.
Funny how promises are made and promises are broken—every second of every day.
Sad, and yet hopeful.
Will I ever just be normal?
Do I even want to be….?
Nah, that second one’s easy: of course not.
But I wish I could stop wanting 43 different things all at the same time.
I wish I could stop wishing.
I want a new tattoo.
But not until—
Sorry to end on a somewhat melancholic note.
The sun is beginning to sink over the clear blue water.
And it is time to dress for dinner.
…I say that is if it’s a formal event.
A skirt and an un-bra-ed tank top will be my wardrobe.