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 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!

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.

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?

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.

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?

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.