freezing in paradise

Back in June I had the pleasure of visiting Maui. I am an informed traveler and therefore knew to not miss the sunrise on Haleakala.



After waking up at 3am, Wheeler and I started the trek up the mountain. By 5am we reached the Haleakala National Park visitor center. We pulled over to use the lavatory and braced ourselves for the inevitable drop in temperature. We dressed as accordingly as we could with what we had. The brisk 52 degree morning air instantly catapulted me back to a chilly springtime afternoon in Michigan. I was comfortable and refreshed. Wheeler, who was born and raised in Hawaii, thought she was dying. As she was going to move to Chi-town in 2 weeks, I had a good time teasing her and warning her that she might as well get used to the temperature. By the time we reached the top it had plummeted another 10 degrees or so. I was still fine with this. Yet looking back at photos, Wheeler is miserable and incapable of smiling. I decided to do a little climbing in order to get a better view and took my hoodie off at one point from the exertion. The cold air hit my lungs and stung a bit as I jogged up to the summit, but the sensation simply transported me back to the way I felt after a round of conditioning during a softball practice early in the season.

Looking back at this experience I laugh at myself. It was obvious I was new to the islands still (and in most ways I still am). Today it probably didn't hit 70 degrees during the day. It was overcast with an occasional sprinkle, although no real rain. And windy as hell. It was freezing. Yes, I now react to any drop in temperature like the rest of those that live here. If it's below 75, it's fucking freezing, especially without sun. You can spot the Hawaiian residents. We're bundled up in pants, sweatshirts and jackets on days like this. The tourists stick out in their vacation garb, tank tops, and sandals. For them, the weather here is still warmer than it is back in Iowa or wherever it is they're from.

It's just sad because I desperately wanted to go to the beach today. My barely perceptible tan lines are one shade of melanin away from being completely imperceptible. And that's just not acceptable.

auntie em! auntie em!

I can't be sure, but I think the sun may be attempting to shine. This is quite unexpected. The city issued a weather warning days ago, hoping for Honolulu citizens to be able to brace themselves for the tropical storm (60+ mph) caliber high winds we were predicted to endure. Mind you, we're always subject to spontaneous high winds. I don't see why we're supposed to go into hiding now. The last 24 hours (this prediction was put into effect 6pm last night) have shown nothing out of the ordinary weather-wise. No large trucks or buses were blown off course, like they claimed was possible. (Hallelujah, considering I take the Bus to work.) No lawn furniture, street signs, or inanimate objects were turned into deadly projectiles, like they warned. (I prefer not to die a la Final Destination, thank you. Especially considering my graphic dreams of late.) Sure there's been some mild winds and intermittent rain, but nothing a hot cup of tea (cocoa, coffee...pick your poison...) and a good book can't solve.

Fifteen minutes later...

Lo and behold, clear blue skies and flawless rays of sunshine! If only sunset wasn't in half an hour.

I have yet to determine whether or not I approve of my ever-changing work schedule. On one hand, I do need to dispose of the physically taxing and financially disappointing doubles. However, the other shifts I've been assigned aren't exactly lucrative. It's hard to tell whether this is due to the drop in overall sales post-Christmas, or just my schedule itself.

That being said, I don't mind this whole having-Friday-nights-off deal. Friday nights have always been hit or miss anyways. Tonight I took the opportunity to finally make guacamole. Ole! I altered a few things from the norm, most notably the diced jalapeno. I'd give my recipe, but I regard it as somewhat secret. Let me just clarify that no cilantro was involved. Absolutely not.



And yes, that is a bottle of Menage a Trois red wine. (One of my favorites, and not just because of it's suggestive name.) No cooking activity is complete without a glass of red wine.

Now I've inspired a culinary fiesta, if you will. Marya is off to buy tomatoes to make some salsa. (Perhaps I should have told her to pick up the goods for margaritas, as that would go along with the theme? Oh well.) And then it's time to enjoy Mary Poppins. Don't ask.

the deluge of '08

It appears as though Honolulu has been taken over by a monsoon. I am not entirely clear on the exact meteorological definition of the word "monsoon," but this is what I imagine one being like. It began yesterday evening and continues still.

This is what Manoa Valley usually looks like from my lanai.


And this is Manoa Valley completely imperceptible to the human eye thanks to torrential downpour.


This may come as news for those that believe I live each day in a constant state of paradise. While there is a noticeable lack of blizzards, we are blessed with sporadic yet inevitable bouts of rain. Usually it lasts a few minutes and can be escaped by walking two blocks in any direction. Usually it occurs, inexplicably, without a cloud in the sky and only takes the form of a harmless mist. However, I haven't seen blue sky for the last two days.

Last night I was certain that palm trees would be uprooted. There is some sort of wind tunnel-ish vortex present in front of my apartment building between the parking garage and lobby, the center of it being a very large tree. This poor mass of foliage was being whipped back and forth so ferociously I couldn't help but being reminded of someone headbanging, which of course only brings to mind Wayne's mullet headbanging along to "Bohemian Rhapsody" in Wayne's World. Between the rain slamming against my window pane, my blinds being whipped around in a frenzy despite my window being shut (there must have been a tiny crack where the wind got through), and my window rattling from the force of the gales outside I couldn't fall asleep until 4:30am.

Mind you, I've slept through my share of thunderstorms in Michigan. I love them, in fact, and they usually lull me to sleep. I also believe it rains more forcefully and with more quantity (i.e. the droplets are larger and closer together, if that makes sense) there. But damn...

I woke up and I couldn't see anything but white out my window because the fog/mist was so thick. Like pea soup, haha. And this persisted throughout the day.



The strangest part of it all is how much I liked it. It was nice to have variety. It was nice to be a little chilly for once, even if the rain was joined by a distinct mugginess. I felt the need for a hot caffeinated beverage, which is often never the case here unless I'm somewhere heavily air-conditioned. Rain can be soothing. It can be a great excuse to have a lazy, cozy, introspective day. It can also be peaceful and almost ethereal.