Damn you Food Network! Now I feel like this Queen City Cayenne ice cream is a must-try. Only I'm not going to pay almost $50 (plus shipping) to do so. After reading up, I realize it's gourmet ice cream, but come on. Not only that, but I'm not interested in ordering 4 or 9 pints.
Soooooooooooooo I guess I'll have to wait until I move back to Michigan. Then I can make a trek across the border.
Yes, ice cream is worth braving the shithole that is Ohio.
Monday, February 28, 2011
busy bee
Mondays, I love you dearly. You are mine to do with as I please. I never pick up a shift. I never feel obligated to go along with someone else's plans, or any plan for that matter. I never feel obligated to do anything...period. Sometimes I even go incommunicado. No matter what, relaxation is a requirement after the chaos of the weekend...this weekend especially.
Tiara Lynn got married on Saturday. The first Mary to be a Mrs. Mary. Amber and Jen were able to come in from the mainland for the weekend in order to celebrate the festivities. Awesome, but unfortunately I couldn't afford to take off an entire weekend from work in order to play. Taking a Saturday off was as much as my budget allows. It's that time of the month where rent rears it's ugly head.
This whole last week has been nuts. I had plans on all my days off and then some. And despite the lingering vog (at least until Tuesday), I was determined to have a life again. Last Monday, Hannah and I stopped by Lulu's for industry night (half off the entire menu!) to meet up with her two girlfriends, who I had never met. It was all very Sex in the City, without the stuffy Manhattan connotations. (I'm possibly only saying that out of envy.) We did have drinks and talk about men though. No, there weren't cosmos and none of us are really whoring around like Kim Cattrall, but you get the point. Then she and I headed downtown to O'Tooles for some much-needed Mike Love therapy.
He is just ridiculously talented. I'm not even much for the reggae or jawaiian genres, but I guess I don't classify him as anything. And he makes my heart happy, which is a much needed reprieve lately. Just reminds me that there is life beyond a crappy relationship.
Precious and I had our weekly beach date on Wednesday. I love the ritual of it. I like having a regular reminder that I actually live in Hawaii. Plus, there's the obvious girl talk time while her kids are playing. And the boys are my buddies too. It's like they're my little dates.
Thursday she and I ventured out shopping for appropriate wedding outfits. I had my dress already, thanks to a spontaneous $30 deal at Ross. But the shoes and accessories were a mystery to my fashion-challenged mind. Thanks to Precious' patience and my persistence, I found these:
My glorious 1940's Hollywood inspired lantern shoes! Yes, we named them lantern shoes. And they were a hit! My favorite pair of heels ever. I was very proud of the ensemble I acquired for a hundred dollars. I felt like a lady and that is money well spent.
Saturday's festivities began early. Looking like a lady takes preparation. And that sucks when you have to be at the Hale Koa in Waikiki by 10:30am. Since the family is Mormon, we all anticipated a dry wedding. (An oxymoron, in my mind.) So most of us planned on meeting up early to sneak in a few mimosas. Surprisingly, this did not happen. Come to find out that, even on a Saturday, nobody serves that early. Damn them for making us feel like alcoholics!
The hotel bar across the hall opened it's doors at 11am so we discreetly made our way over there promptly at 11:01am. It was easy considering our tables were located within a foot of the exit. (Was this intentional? Had Tiara predicted our desire for booze?) So there we were doing Patron shots before noon on an empty stomach and in an empty hotel bar. Tasteful and appropriate, as always.
The wedding reception itself was entertaining on all levels. Crazy fucking Samoans! As a people, they are insane. Tiara's family is a little bit nuts as well, but it's all in good fun. The Mormons may not drink, but the Samoans can throw a party! If there was alcohol involved there may have been a mosh pit at some point. Even the most mundane and traditional wedding moments were ridden with "chee-hoos" from the fired up audience. And they have some mad dancing skills involving wriggling around on the floor and slapping it. Damn, I wish I took video. All in all, it made me feel extremely white lol. Actually, I think I may have been the only white person there (excluding Buca folk). Not an unfamiliar sensation to have in Hawaii.
After the party, subsequent photos, and goodbyes, we set out to find the after party. Or rather, create our own. The night took us many places. Eventually it was just Wheeler, Amber and I left to explore the evening. The others either had not requested off work or had tickets to the Nas concert at Kaka'ako. The boyfriend just randomly headed home at one point, deciding that he had had enough. The girls and I headed down to the Maile Sky Court, which was where Amber was staying. Conveniently, that is also where Deep End is located and, although Marya wasn't working, she was there as a guest. After meeting her current man, a stand-in for Dann-o on Hawaii Five-O (and not shy about advertising so) and having a quick drink, we headed downtown for 80's night at Bar 35. I normally hate downtown, but I do love 80's music, only they were having 40's night during 80's night? Understand, they hadn't canceled 80's night. The hits of the 80's were still playing, only they were interspersed with a few Big Band hits. And then there were a bunch of girls decked out in retro garb, all vying for the best 40's costume. (I think our cocktail waitress was confused, as she was dressed as a flapper and informed us that it was the Roaring Twenties. Epic failure on her part.) It was amusing. I had French raspberry beer of some sort. A strange and new (drunk) choice on my part, but it was delicious. Not overpowering in sweetness, but not completely beer-ish either.
I called it a night fairly early and rather suddenly. I recall searching for the girls after using the lavatory, but just ended up calling them to let them know I was taking a cab home. Sometimes you just know when to call it quits.
Sunday I woke up hungover and then continued to make a few bad life choices lol. Earlier in the week a few of us had planned to go on a booze cruise before work. Sounds wise, yes? Once I woke up and felt the extent of my hangover I rethought my decision. On one hand, it was my last chance to hang out with Amber and Wheeler before their departure. On the other hand, it's a booze cruise before work...at 11:30am nonetheless. Jillian and I texted and both agreed we should decline the opportunity, until the peer pressure began. So I went last minute.
Worst. Idea. Ever.
Since I left it to the last minute I had nothing in my stomach, which was still pretty queasy from drinking the entire previous day. Plus mornings don't sit well with me in the first place. Most pointless booze cruise ever. Amber didn't even go, as she had stayed out drinking until 4am. I had barely started sipping my second drink when I started to feel my stomach toss and turn, much like the ocean was doing merely feet from where I was seated. With just a second's warning I threw up vodka cranberry over the side of the catamaran. Embarrassing much? I am of hearty nautical stock. I love the water. My life revolved around boats due to my father's business and hobbies. I have never experienced motion sickness while on a boat of any shape or size. And it takes A LOT of booze to make me throw up. So yes, it was shameful. But I immediately felt better, especially when Erika gifted me with a granola bar from her purse. Instant cure. I stopped drinking for the most part and tried my best to have fun, the highlight being the dip in the ocean. Oh, except the part when my foot slipped when jumping off the boat. While my dive was not as painful as a belly flop, it was almost as close in gracefulness. I discovered later that I had actually sliced my baby toe open during this stunt. It's not too sore though.
Post-booze cruise we required sustenance. We then proceeded to make a spectacle out of ourselves at Cheesecake Factory, some of us more than others. Let's just say that one of our group will not be welcomed back to the establishment for quite some time.
Obviously a busy, busy week. Memorable, I suppose, but I'm okay with not repeating it for a while. For now I'll just lay low, save my money, and recuperate.
I'm afraid to see some of the pictures that may come out of the woodwork.
Tiara Lynn got married on Saturday. The first Mary to be a Mrs. Mary. Amber and Jen were able to come in from the mainland for the weekend in order to celebrate the festivities. Awesome, but unfortunately I couldn't afford to take off an entire weekend from work in order to play. Taking a Saturday off was as much as my budget allows. It's that time of the month where rent rears it's ugly head.
This whole last week has been nuts. I had plans on all my days off and then some. And despite the lingering vog (at least until Tuesday), I was determined to have a life again. Last Monday, Hannah and I stopped by Lulu's for industry night (half off the entire menu!) to meet up with her two girlfriends, who I had never met. It was all very Sex in the City, without the stuffy Manhattan connotations. (I'm possibly only saying that out of envy.) We did have drinks and talk about men though. No, there weren't cosmos and none of us are really whoring around like Kim Cattrall, but you get the point. Then she and I headed downtown to O'Tooles for some much-needed Mike Love therapy.
He is just ridiculously talented. I'm not even much for the reggae or jawaiian genres, but I guess I don't classify him as anything. And he makes my heart happy, which is a much needed reprieve lately. Just reminds me that there is life beyond a crappy relationship.
Precious and I had our weekly beach date on Wednesday. I love the ritual of it. I like having a regular reminder that I actually live in Hawaii. Plus, there's the obvious girl talk time while her kids are playing. And the boys are my buddies too. It's like they're my little dates.
Thursday she and I ventured out shopping for appropriate wedding outfits. I had my dress already, thanks to a spontaneous $30 deal at Ross. But the shoes and accessories were a mystery to my fashion-challenged mind. Thanks to Precious' patience and my persistence, I found these:
My glorious 1940's Hollywood inspired lantern shoes! Yes, we named them lantern shoes. And they were a hit! My favorite pair of heels ever. I was very proud of the ensemble I acquired for a hundred dollars. I felt like a lady and that is money well spent.
Saturday's festivities began early. Looking like a lady takes preparation. And that sucks when you have to be at the Hale Koa in Waikiki by 10:30am. Since the family is Mormon, we all anticipated a dry wedding. (An oxymoron, in my mind.) So most of us planned on meeting up early to sneak in a few mimosas. Surprisingly, this did not happen. Come to find out that, even on a Saturday, nobody serves that early. Damn them for making us feel like alcoholics!
The hotel bar across the hall opened it's doors at 11am so we discreetly made our way over there promptly at 11:01am. It was easy considering our tables were located within a foot of the exit. (Was this intentional? Had Tiara predicted our desire for booze?) So there we were doing Patron shots before noon on an empty stomach and in an empty hotel bar. Tasteful and appropriate, as always.
The wedding reception itself was entertaining on all levels. Crazy fucking Samoans! As a people, they are insane. Tiara's family is a little bit nuts as well, but it's all in good fun. The Mormons may not drink, but the Samoans can throw a party! If there was alcohol involved there may have been a mosh pit at some point. Even the most mundane and traditional wedding moments were ridden with "chee-hoos" from the fired up audience. And they have some mad dancing skills involving wriggling around on the floor and slapping it. Damn, I wish I took video. All in all, it made me feel extremely white lol. Actually, I think I may have been the only white person there (excluding Buca folk). Not an unfamiliar sensation to have in Hawaii.
After the party, subsequent photos, and goodbyes, we set out to find the after party. Or rather, create our own. The night took us many places. Eventually it was just Wheeler, Amber and I left to explore the evening. The others either had not requested off work or had tickets to the Nas concert at Kaka'ako. The boyfriend just randomly headed home at one point, deciding that he had had enough. The girls and I headed down to the Maile Sky Court, which was where Amber was staying. Conveniently, that is also where Deep End is located and, although Marya wasn't working, she was there as a guest. After meeting her current man, a stand-in for Dann-o on Hawaii Five-O (and not shy about advertising so) and having a quick drink, we headed downtown for 80's night at Bar 35. I normally hate downtown, but I do love 80's music, only they were having 40's night during 80's night? Understand, they hadn't canceled 80's night. The hits of the 80's were still playing, only they were interspersed with a few Big Band hits. And then there were a bunch of girls decked out in retro garb, all vying for the best 40's costume. (I think our cocktail waitress was confused, as she was dressed as a flapper and informed us that it was the Roaring Twenties. Epic failure on her part.) It was amusing. I had French raspberry beer of some sort. A strange and new (drunk) choice on my part, but it was delicious. Not overpowering in sweetness, but not completely beer-ish either.
I called it a night fairly early and rather suddenly. I recall searching for the girls after using the lavatory, but just ended up calling them to let them know I was taking a cab home. Sometimes you just know when to call it quits.
Sunday I woke up hungover and then continued to make a few bad life choices lol. Earlier in the week a few of us had planned to go on a booze cruise before work. Sounds wise, yes? Once I woke up and felt the extent of my hangover I rethought my decision. On one hand, it was my last chance to hang out with Amber and Wheeler before their departure. On the other hand, it's a booze cruise before work...at 11:30am nonetheless. Jillian and I texted and both agreed we should decline the opportunity, until the peer pressure began. So I went last minute.
Worst. Idea. Ever.
Since I left it to the last minute I had nothing in my stomach, which was still pretty queasy from drinking the entire previous day. Plus mornings don't sit well with me in the first place. Most pointless booze cruise ever. Amber didn't even go, as she had stayed out drinking until 4am. I had barely started sipping my second drink when I started to feel my stomach toss and turn, much like the ocean was doing merely feet from where I was seated. With just a second's warning I threw up vodka cranberry over the side of the catamaran. Embarrassing much? I am of hearty nautical stock. I love the water. My life revolved around boats due to my father's business and hobbies. I have never experienced motion sickness while on a boat of any shape or size. And it takes A LOT of booze to make me throw up. So yes, it was shameful. But I immediately felt better, especially when Erika gifted me with a granola bar from her purse. Instant cure. I stopped drinking for the most part and tried my best to have fun, the highlight being the dip in the ocean. Oh, except the part when my foot slipped when jumping off the boat. While my dive was not as painful as a belly flop, it was almost as close in gracefulness. I discovered later that I had actually sliced my baby toe open during this stunt. It's not too sore though.
Post-booze cruise we required sustenance. We then proceeded to make a spectacle out of ourselves at Cheesecake Factory, some of us more than others. Let's just say that one of our group will not be welcomed back to the establishment for quite some time.
Obviously a busy, busy week. Memorable, I suppose, but I'm okay with not repeating it for a while. For now I'll just lay low, save my money, and recuperate.
I'm afraid to see some of the pictures that may come out of the woodwork.
Monday, February 21, 2011
screw the VOG!!!
I've been sick over a week now. Last weekend was awful. I demanded Saturday off work, much to my managers disapproval, however brief. And I couldn't even pick up V-day, even though I was offered $40 just to do so. I'm a whore for easy money (although not literally), so that attests to how ill I really felt. Now I'm much improved, or at least know I'm not going to die, but this sinus hell is now lingering over a week. I'm better, but I still sound disgusting. And every morning I still feel like shit.
At this point I can't tell whether I'm feeling the affects of the vog or if I have an out of control sinus infection. Having lived in Hawaii for three years I know what's up with vog, but this is the most extreme it's ever affected me. Yet, this extreme of a sinus infection is also bizarre. I mean, I had a minor flu of the respiratory kind. And now I wish someone would drill into my sinus cavity and drain my head of all fluids, useful or other sort. Maybe it's a slow recovery but the vog isn't helping? Either way I'm miserable. MISERABLE.
I'm somewhat serious about the whole tapping into my sinus cavity idea. Sounds like pure relief right now, but I imagine that would cause some serious medical problems.
At this point I can't tell whether I'm feeling the affects of the vog or if I have an out of control sinus infection. Having lived in Hawaii for three years I know what's up with vog, but this is the most extreme it's ever affected me. Yet, this extreme of a sinus infection is also bizarre. I mean, I had a minor flu of the respiratory kind. And now I wish someone would drill into my sinus cavity and drain my head of all fluids, useful or other sort. Maybe it's a slow recovery but the vog isn't helping? Either way I'm miserable. MISERABLE.
I'm somewhat serious about the whole tapping into my sinus cavity idea. Sounds like pure relief right now, but I imagine that would cause some serious medical problems.
Monday, February 14, 2011
happy bitter and sexually repressed day
You know what's a really great idea? Watching a cavalcade of romantic comedies when you're currently unhappy in your relationship. Oh, and you're home alone sick on Valentine's Day. Superb idea.
First up was Letters to Juliet, which I hadn't seen before. I like Amanda Seyfried, in a little girl crush kind of way, since Mamma Mia. The movie itself was alright. Just makes me want to visit Italy.
Next was P.S. I Love You, which I have seen before. Actually, I read the book years ago. I always wonder why I like it so much, but I know the answers. There's the Gerard Butler factor. I want that man. Or maybe just as he is in that role. Goddamn he's sexy. Plus, it's the only movie I've ever watched where I find Hilary Swank pleasurable to watch. I'm not commenting on her acting abilities in the slightest. But she's actually feminine and endearing in this movie and that's a rarity. Then there's the Irish factor: the accents, the music, the scenery, the warm familiarity I've always felt with my Irish ancestry. Screw Italy, I need to visit Ireland.
First up was Letters to Juliet, which I hadn't seen before. I like Amanda Seyfried, in a little girl crush kind of way, since Mamma Mia. The movie itself was alright. Just makes me want to visit Italy.
Next was P.S. I Love You, which I have seen before. Actually, I read the book years ago. I always wonder why I like it so much, but I know the answers. There's the Gerard Butler factor. I want that man. Or maybe just as he is in that role. Goddamn he's sexy. Plus, it's the only movie I've ever watched where I find Hilary Swank pleasurable to watch. I'm not commenting on her acting abilities in the slightest. But she's actually feminine and endearing in this movie and that's a rarity. Then there's the Irish factor: the accents, the music, the scenery, the warm familiarity I've always felt with my Irish ancestry. Screw Italy, I need to visit Ireland.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
i am ze master of ze french cuisine
Cassoulet is an intimidating endeavor.
This recipe was advertised to me as a soup by my mother. A particular soup, in fact, that we all fondly remember my Dad making many moons ago. And while there are definite similarities, it is not a soup. Silly Mom.
Okay, so it's rather soup looking while in the process, but the picture is deceiving.
Here is the recipe:
Field Made Cassoulet
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/4 cup flour
4 bone-in chicken thighs
2 andouille sausages (about 1 pound), cut into 1-inch pieces
1 carrot, sliced
1 onion, chopped
1 celery rib, chopped
3 garlic cloves, chopped fine
1/4 cup red wine
1 and 1/2 tsp. dried thyme
pepper
2 12 oz. cans cannellini beans
Heat olive oil in stew pot. Dredge the chicken in the flour and place in the pot and brown on all sides. Remove and set aside. Add sausages, carrot, onion, celery and garlic to the pot and saute until sausage is lightly browned and onion is translucent, about 10 to 12 minutes. Add wine, thyme, pepper, cannellini beans, and stir thoroughly. Lay the chicken atop the mixture and press down until almost covered. Cover the pot and set on low. Let simmer, checking occasionally for about an hour.
Okay, a few notes. Upon my Dad's recommendation, I added Cajun seasoning to my flour before dredging, just to add a little pizazz. As for the sausage, if you can't find andouille, find one with a similar flavor. I used chorizo. Now, cooking with wine is a new adventure for me. I asked my Dad what he used and he said cooking wine. However, neither of my parents are winos like me. If I wouldn't drink it, I'm not going to cook with it. So I used Menage a Trois. Oh, and when I added my chicken, I also added the crispy pieces of skin and other chicken drippings, adding more flavor. I let it cook for several hours instead of just one, theorizing that it would make the chicken more tender. Plus, I'm always paranoid when cooking chicken. But it did make it more tender.
The result?
More stew than soup, cassoulet is rustic and simple, while sounding delightfully French. It was deeeeelicious! Le magnifique!
This recipe was advertised to me as a soup by my mother. A particular soup, in fact, that we all fondly remember my Dad making many moons ago. And while there are definite similarities, it is not a soup. Silly Mom.
Okay, so it's rather soup looking while in the process, but the picture is deceiving.
Here is the recipe:
Field Made Cassoulet
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/4 cup flour
4 bone-in chicken thighs
2 andouille sausages (about 1 pound), cut into 1-inch pieces
1 carrot, sliced
1 onion, chopped
1 celery rib, chopped
3 garlic cloves, chopped fine
1/4 cup red wine
1 and 1/2 tsp. dried thyme
pepper
2 12 oz. cans cannellini beans
Heat olive oil in stew pot. Dredge the chicken in the flour and place in the pot and brown on all sides. Remove and set aside. Add sausages, carrot, onion, celery and garlic to the pot and saute until sausage is lightly browned and onion is translucent, about 10 to 12 minutes. Add wine, thyme, pepper, cannellini beans, and stir thoroughly. Lay the chicken atop the mixture and press down until almost covered. Cover the pot and set on low. Let simmer, checking occasionally for about an hour.
Okay, a few notes. Upon my Dad's recommendation, I added Cajun seasoning to my flour before dredging, just to add a little pizazz. As for the sausage, if you can't find andouille, find one with a similar flavor. I used chorizo. Now, cooking with wine is a new adventure for me. I asked my Dad what he used and he said cooking wine. However, neither of my parents are winos like me. If I wouldn't drink it, I'm not going to cook with it. So I used Menage a Trois. Oh, and when I added my chicken, I also added the crispy pieces of skin and other chicken drippings, adding more flavor. I let it cook for several hours instead of just one, theorizing that it would make the chicken more tender. Plus, I'm always paranoid when cooking chicken. But it did make it more tender.
The result?
More stew than soup, cassoulet is rustic and simple, while sounding delightfully French. It was deeeeelicious! Le magnifique!
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
they're half pajama, half jeans!
I'm intrigued by pajama jeans.
I've never called on an infomercial before. Hell, Andy and I used to mock them for hours into the night, mainly for the atrocious acting. And, let's be honest, the pajama jeans are most likely a bad idea. It's hard to tell without having them in my hands, but I'm sure the fabric is questionable. And I'm almost positive they're meant for skinny girls. I've never been one to order clothes online or through a catalog. You can't take the chance when you've got an ass like mine. I always have to try something on first.
Yet I really want a pair.
Price is another concern. I don't spend $40 on any one item of clothing, unless it's for a special occasion. Or maybe a really nice pair of black dress pants, in which case I'd get more than $40 use out of them. Jeans that are half pajamas though? No. Even my Lucky jeans were on sale at Nordstrom rack for $30.
I've never called on an infomercial before. Hell, Andy and I used to mock them for hours into the night, mainly for the atrocious acting. And, let's be honest, the pajama jeans are most likely a bad idea. It's hard to tell without having them in my hands, but I'm sure the fabric is questionable. And I'm almost positive they're meant for skinny girls. I've never been one to order clothes online or through a catalog. You can't take the chance when you've got an ass like mine. I always have to try something on first.
Yet I really want a pair.
Price is another concern. I don't spend $40 on any one item of clothing, unless it's for a special occasion. Or maybe a really nice pair of black dress pants, in which case I'd get more than $40 use out of them. Jeans that are half pajamas though? No. Even my Lucky jeans were on sale at Nordstrom rack for $30.
i've got a preposition for you...
My growing suspicion is that I'm calling my Mom too much. Or at least I'm suspecting she thinks I am. How much is too much when you're approaching 30 and having a life crisis? I can't keep inundating my friends here with all my issues. That seems selfish and unfair. Plus, it's just redundant. My problems remain constant and there's nothing worse than a broken record. My friends back home are too far away to fill in on every detail, so they just end up lost and disinterested. And who else can you call when absolutely bored while walking to work? Okay, probably a lot of people.
I need to stop. Hopefully the blogging of late will fill my need to get these things off my chest.
And now, time for bed. I think I'm too tired to be writing at the moment. I've attempted sentence after sentence, all ending with prepositions. Not my finest literary moment. I'll probably edit the hell out of this tomorrow.
Goodnight all!
I need to stop. Hopefully the blogging of late will fill my need to get these things off my chest.
And now, time for bed. I think I'm too tired to be writing at the moment. I've attempted sentence after sentence, all ending with prepositions. Not my finest literary moment. I'll probably edit the hell out of this tomorrow.
Goodnight all!
Monday, February 7, 2011
craniati is an enigma
Craniati is kicking my ass! And also draining the battery on my Droid nightly.
If you haven't played, beware. It's like a road rally for your smartphone, including the entire love/hate affair. Playing just makes me angry and self-loathing, but I can't stop! It's like crack. And the self-satisfaction only feeds the hunger to play more.
I just don't understand how I'm expected to play it solely on my phone. The amount of internet research and scouring page after page of Google is mind-numbing in and of itself, but on my phone?
This man must be brilliant.
If you haven't played, beware. It's like a road rally for your smartphone, including the entire love/hate affair. Playing just makes me angry and self-loathing, but I can't stop! It's like crack. And the self-satisfaction only feeds the hunger to play more.
I just don't understand how I'm expected to play it solely on my phone. The amount of internet research and scouring page after page of Google is mind-numbing in and of itself, but on my phone?
This man must be brilliant.
home is where the heart is
As an adult I have yet to find a suitable living situation. Forget trying to attain that "home" feeling. I used to think that's what it was all about, that contentedness that most of us have under the abode of our childhood. Now I realize that probably develops with time. So what it's really all about is just finding the place that has more in the pro column than the con.
Hawaii has been a struggle in that respect. Satan's condo, which I shared with Michael for the better part of a year, was never even in the running. Marya's was clearly tentative from the get go, although there was some level of comfort. Kailua had the neighbor's very verbal wiener dog (a generous 8 feet from my bedroom window) and the naked amazonian roommate from Minnesota (who still hasn't returned my deposit) as the obvious cons. No pros could have saved the situation. Not to mention the commute, which is now vitally important since the demise of the Honda.
Here in Makiki, life is a bit simpler. The apartment complex was pet friendly, which was the main draw. Sacrifices were made in various departments. Size, laundry, dishwasher, size, laundry, modern appliances. It's clean! I was finally able to adopt my own cat for the first time in my adult life. You will learn more about Lucy later. Because of the pet friendly nature of the building, we are practically living in a kennel. I've seen one other cat, otherwise we are in dog city. Two doors down there are two maniacal chihuahuas, or some other ugly rat dog breed. They rarely shut up. It's the price I pay. I also suspect that apartment of the constant ganja, although I think there are several culprits. Not that I care, at least not here in Hawaii.
On the other side are the lesbians. They're an awkward lesbian couple. I thought the ginger was a really unfortunate pear-shaped man at first, completely undeserving of the cute hapa chick. Oh no, she's just a really unfortunate pear-shaped woman. They are a downright funky couple. Super nice, but they have inappropriately timed and high-pitch sex. It sounds like a cross between a monkey and the Chiquita banana woman. And I'm guessing it's not the ginger making those noises. The walls are thin and at 7am there's not much else happening to block out the noise.
Who has wild monkey sex at 7am that often?
Other than that, there's just the surfers occupying the house in the back. They're generally courteous, but occasionally they'll start sanding down the boards before noon. Not any worse than the construction or lawn maintenance that takes place each month. Still, I wouldn't mind finding somewhere where I'm willing to have it be more permanent. I'm not implying that most people go without their grievances. It just seems like the pros should outweigh the cons if you're going to make somewhere a long term residence?
Hawaii has been a struggle in that respect. Satan's condo, which I shared with Michael for the better part of a year, was never even in the running. Marya's was clearly tentative from the get go, although there was some level of comfort. Kailua had the neighbor's very verbal wiener dog (a generous 8 feet from my bedroom window) and the naked amazonian roommate from Minnesota (who still hasn't returned my deposit) as the obvious cons. No pros could have saved the situation. Not to mention the commute, which is now vitally important since the demise of the Honda.
Here in Makiki, life is a bit simpler. The apartment complex was pet friendly, which was the main draw. Sacrifices were made in various departments. Size, laundry, dishwasher, size, laundry, modern appliances. It's clean! I was finally able to adopt my own cat for the first time in my adult life. You will learn more about Lucy later. Because of the pet friendly nature of the building, we are practically living in a kennel. I've seen one other cat, otherwise we are in dog city. Two doors down there are two maniacal chihuahuas, or some other ugly rat dog breed. They rarely shut up. It's the price I pay. I also suspect that apartment of the constant ganja, although I think there are several culprits. Not that I care, at least not here in Hawaii.
On the other side are the lesbians. They're an awkward lesbian couple. I thought the ginger was a really unfortunate pear-shaped man at first, completely undeserving of the cute hapa chick. Oh no, she's just a really unfortunate pear-shaped woman. They are a downright funky couple. Super nice, but they have inappropriately timed and high-pitch sex. It sounds like a cross between a monkey and the Chiquita banana woman. And I'm guessing it's not the ginger making those noises. The walls are thin and at 7am there's not much else happening to block out the noise.
Who has wild monkey sex at 7am that often?
Other than that, there's just the surfers occupying the house in the back. They're generally courteous, but occasionally they'll start sanding down the boards before noon. Not any worse than the construction or lawn maintenance that takes place each month. Still, I wouldn't mind finding somewhere where I'm willing to have it be more permanent. I'm not implying that most people go without their grievances. It just seems like the pros should outweigh the cons if you're going to make somewhere a long term residence?
Sunday, February 6, 2011
i whip my hair back and forth
I thought you should just know. I actually did whip my hair back and forth in honor of this song tonight. Because I forgot that Will Smith's daughter sang it.
Good for her.
Good for her.
viva miami
I hate to be a slave to the TV. If I'm bored and too lazy to find anything original to occupy my time I can generally find something inane on the screen to amuse me. At least for 30 minutes. I have a short attention span. Otherwise I prefer to use the DVR. I used to think that this was for people who like the television a bit too much, but now I realize that it really allows you to get to the point. There are shows I want to watch and I'm not wasting my time on the rest of the fluff. Also, I'm not letting my life revolve around a TV schedule. "Omg, no I can't go out to dinner on Thursday. I don't care if it is your birthday, the Office season premiere is on!" Rather, my shows can be watched whenever my schedule allows. Perfect. And I end up watching TV much less.
Also, I have Netflix. A much better deal than Blockbuster. I usually only let myself get hooked on one show at a time. Recommendations are taken seriously, but don't automatically qualify for immediate viewings. The more recommendations the better. And your past recommendations affect how seriously I take you. There's a waiting list. And anything that makes it to the final viewing is pretty much worth the wait. (In the past, these shows included Sex and the City, Grey's Anatomy, and Weeds. Weeds being the ultimate favorite. Grey's Anatomy had some hit and miss seasons. All in all, good shows. All viewed seasons after they debuted.) My newest venture is Dexter.
Almost finished with season one and I love it. No spoilers, but as usual, Showtime produces some creative and original shows with great writing, acting, and subtle humor. I'm hooked.
Next up I think is Modern Family. Any opinions?
Also, I have Netflix. A much better deal than Blockbuster. I usually only let myself get hooked on one show at a time. Recommendations are taken seriously, but don't automatically qualify for immediate viewings. The more recommendations the better. And your past recommendations affect how seriously I take you. There's a waiting list. And anything that makes it to the final viewing is pretty much worth the wait. (In the past, these shows included Sex and the City, Grey's Anatomy, and Weeds. Weeds being the ultimate favorite. Grey's Anatomy had some hit and miss seasons. All in all, good shows. All viewed seasons after they debuted.) My newest venture is Dexter.
Almost finished with season one and I love it. No spoilers, but as usual, Showtime produces some creative and original shows with great writing, acting, and subtle humor. I'm hooked.
Next up I think is Modern Family. Any opinions?
Thursday, February 3, 2011
complex complexion
Today marks the first time I've been able to visit the beach since my wintry vacation a whole month ago. And it was wonderful.
Obviously it sucks not making the most out of the advantages of living in Hawaii. I would be a total beach bum if I could. I would hike and see everything I could, taking plenty of memorable photos along the way. However, the Honda died shortly after moving to the Makiki apartment in August. Which pretty much blows. The safety check is long expired and the radiator won't allow us to make it any further than Foodland. Since then I've relied on my trusty bike, that is, until someone stole one of my bike pedals while it was chained up at Buca. Just one. Mind you, this bike pedal is not new or made of precious metal. It's boring and black and old. Sounds like the job of a crackhead to me. It's probably been incorporated into one of their crazy grocery carts, never to see the light of day again. This happened shortly before I left for vacation and I have yet to get it fixed. In the meantime, the daily walks have done me good. But getting to the beach is a bit more challenging. I live pretty deep in Makiki. And I'm picky about my beaches.
I had actually been putting off a beach trip due to a recent dermatology scare. Skin cancer is a bit genetic for me, plus I'm fairer than most in my family so add a little extra crispy to my fry. After I got the all clear last week I was ready to lotion up and get to the beach. Today Preciosa and I headed to Kaimanas with the boys.
Love this beach. Perfect for swimming. The parking sucks at times, but it's better than the rest of Waikiki. Plus you don't have to deal with the massive influx of tourists. Absolutely loved going to the beach with kids! It just gives you a new perspective. I remembered being their age and not wanting to get out of the water...ever. There was always something to do or a new game to be invented. Plus they're just cute and well-behaved boys. She offered to sell them to me.
After losing my sunscreen during the Goat Island incident last November, I had to borrow Preciosa's. Being a whitey is rough. I was especially diligent about sunscreen after my dermatologist's lecture, but I always miss some random area on my body. For most people, this is not a problem. For me, my skin decides to turn the color of a tomato after minimal exposure. And it's never the same place. So now half of my right thigh is bright red, because that is the one area that was not covered by our umbrella and received sunscreen too late.
You just can't win. I'm starting to think there's some validity in my dermatologist asking, "Just why did you move to Hawaii with your complexion?"
As if my complexion was something I could have left behind.
Obviously it sucks not making the most out of the advantages of living in Hawaii. I would be a total beach bum if I could. I would hike and see everything I could, taking plenty of memorable photos along the way. However, the Honda died shortly after moving to the Makiki apartment in August. Which pretty much blows. The safety check is long expired and the radiator won't allow us to make it any further than Foodland. Since then I've relied on my trusty bike, that is, until someone stole one of my bike pedals while it was chained up at Buca. Just one. Mind you, this bike pedal is not new or made of precious metal. It's boring and black and old. Sounds like the job of a crackhead to me. It's probably been incorporated into one of their crazy grocery carts, never to see the light of day again. This happened shortly before I left for vacation and I have yet to get it fixed. In the meantime, the daily walks have done me good. But getting to the beach is a bit more challenging. I live pretty deep in Makiki. And I'm picky about my beaches.
I had actually been putting off a beach trip due to a recent dermatology scare. Skin cancer is a bit genetic for me, plus I'm fairer than most in my family so add a little extra crispy to my fry. After I got the all clear last week I was ready to lotion up and get to the beach. Today Preciosa and I headed to Kaimanas with the boys.
Love this beach. Perfect for swimming. The parking sucks at times, but it's better than the rest of Waikiki. Plus you don't have to deal with the massive influx of tourists. Absolutely loved going to the beach with kids! It just gives you a new perspective. I remembered being their age and not wanting to get out of the water...ever. There was always something to do or a new game to be invented. Plus they're just cute and well-behaved boys. She offered to sell them to me.
After losing my sunscreen during the Goat Island incident last November, I had to borrow Preciosa's. Being a whitey is rough. I was especially diligent about sunscreen after my dermatologist's lecture, but I always miss some random area on my body. For most people, this is not a problem. For me, my skin decides to turn the color of a tomato after minimal exposure. And it's never the same place. So now half of my right thigh is bright red, because that is the one area that was not covered by our umbrella and received sunscreen too late.
You just can't win. I'm starting to think there's some validity in my dermatologist asking, "Just why did you move to Hawaii with your complexion?"
As if my complexion was something I could have left behind.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
feels like forever
I moved to Hawaii three years ago today. That's all. I don't know if it's merely a fact or something to really dwell on, but there it is...
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
snownami 2011
Totally jealous of ThunderSnow 2011!! Extreme weather in any way, shape, or form excites me. I've wanted to be a tornado chaser since high school, although I'm almost certain I would die. I miss me a good old-fashioned thunderstorm, so the broadcast of a huge thundersnow??? I've been making everyone text me live pictures. It probably won't live up to expectations, as weather forecasts never do, but I'm guessing 10 inches to a foot.
And yet, why is the midwest acting like it's another y2k? All the grocery stores are running out of the necessities: milk, bread, eggs, , banana, oj, etc... It's not a month long storm people! School will be canceled, roads will suck, maybe some minor power outages, but you live in Michigan! We're supposed to handle this shit with a cocky dismissal and four wheel drive. Get a grip.
And yet, why is the midwest acting like it's another y2k? All the grocery stores are running out of the necessities: milk, bread, eggs, , banana, oj, etc... It's not a month long storm people! School will be canceled, roads will suck, maybe some minor power outages, but you live in Michigan! We're supposed to handle this shit with a cocky dismissal and four wheel drive. Get a grip.
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