South Pacific Sojourn March 30, 2008

After beginning the vacation in a fashion most true to our nature (we stayed up too late on our first night together in eight months and consequently missed our flight the next morning, pushing back our departure one day…which was fine, because it was a good day of waiting to leave), we had, undoubtedly, the best time I’ve ever had.  The most perfect, special, beautiful, idyllic, and romantic moment in my life happened on Day Three, as we were stuck on a bridge, in a freak rainstorm, with rainforest jungle waterfall on one side and wide blue Pacific on the other.  It was pure magic.  The first place we stayed was literally perfect.   Every single detail was arranged perfectly, from the food, to the customer service (the entire staff knew our names by the time we checked in), to the landscape design, to the massages, to the lighting, to the unassuming sophistication of the decor…it was just perfect.  Seriously, if you’re ever looking for a perfect get-away, check out Kona Village Resort.  Our private hale was about a half mile walk along the beach from everything (pool, dining areas, concierge office, parking lot), so we got to enjoy lush trails on the way to and from our perfect, private, thatched bungalow.  The shrimp I ate on the first night of our arrival was the best I’ve ever eaten, and I’m sure only three hours out of the ocean.  The restaurants were 5 star, and we ate like queens three times every day.  Because my computer’s battery is low (as usual), the highlights:  snorkeling daily with the sea turtles that live in the bay opposite outdoor dining area number 2, the helicopter ride over the very-recently-active volcano Pele, (my favorite) the hike around the rim of an extinct volcano in Wai’pio Valley to the rainforest waterfall, shopping on Scenic Route 19, cruising around the island in our hot rental convertible, the snorkeling day trip to a marine sanctuary 7 miles down the coast from our hotel, the sunset cocktail cruise where we drank pina coladas and saw baby humpbacks, parasailing at 1200 feet on a hazy day over Kauiluhau, the jet ski rentals that took us to the middle of a large, choppy bay, and the gigantic, blue-tiled hot tub complete with waterfall and surrounding fresh water pool which spilled into a large pool, perfectly heated so as to feel cooler but not cold, underneath the palm trees on a full moon.  Perfect, romantic  m a g i c. I have never felt so happy or so content in my entire life.  Odd that that could happen with my ex-girlfriend.  Not surprisingly, I’m having a hard time staying her ex.  We just have so much fun together.  She’s my favorite adventure companion, my perfect dinner date, the softest shoulder to sleep against.  Our problems didn’t dissolve because of ten days in paradise, but there was a certain measure of perspective granted me; we love each other too much, and get along too well, and have entirely too much fun with one another, to just give up.  Nothing has changed…I’m still single and she is whatever she is, but my heart has changed, warmed, softened, or maybe just remembered what it feels like to have such a perfect counter-weight.  I am missing her badly since our return to the mainland.  I’m finding it hard to sleep alone in the bed we shared for a year.  I crave the color of her eyes; more blue than even the waters of the Pacific.  

A Proper Spring Break, Finally March 14, 2008

Finals are over…almost.  I have one more in two and a hours that I probably should be studying for right now, but I read all of the materials, so I feel like I should be able to at least bullshit through most of it.  After that, I’m done.  Off to Raleigh for the evening, then I fly to Chicago tomorrow afternoon, spend one night in Chicago (where I get to see Hollis and Brian!!!  YAY!!!) and then we get up early the next morning for our direct flight to Honolulu.  I am literally beside myself with excitement.  I’ve hardly been able to get anything done this entire week, which is unfortunate, seeing as this has been the busiest week of my life, EVER. Packing was fun.  All the clothes in my suitcase are new, mostly, because none of my old clothes fit anymore.  To date, I’ve lost 46 lbs, which feels pretty fuckin’ good.  12 of those pounds happened in the last week, since my most recent fill–it’s kinda crazy.  The ladies at the gas station down the street keep telling me that I’m melting.  That’s a fairly apt description for how I feel myself.  There’s less and less of me everyday.  Weird and awesome.   The thing I’m most looking forward to about this vacation is turning my cell phone for 10 days, and not being around a computer.  Technology has infiltrated my life, and I’ve forgotten how I lived pre-cell phone and internet.  I’m going to have a brief Renaissance with the technological dark ages, and I can’t wait.  I hope we have to call for room service on a Gilligan-inspired coconut phone.   

Dick Clark Is A Robot January 3, 2008

I’ve been thinking for years, ever since he had his stroke, that Dick Clark was actually made from cast resin, with strings attached to his hands, like a marionette.  It really depresses me to see him on TV, doing his Rockin’ New Years Eve thing…Madame Tussaud must be really proud of herself for this one.   If New Years Eve was any indicator of how 2008 is going to go, I’m in for a good year.  Myself, R and M hopped in the car on Sunday and headed to DC, to visit Ashantaleezay; of course, it hasn’t rained in for-fucking-ever, and then it torrentially pours the one day we have to drive.  The drive wasn’t awful, though…no nasty traffic, which is a first, where DC is concerned.  We spent Sunday evening in A’s apartment, catching up and having some laughs; A had to work early Monday morning.   On Monday, R and M and I went toodling around DC while A was at work having carpet installed (”Is that code for something?”—M).  We found a cute bagel place to eat a late breakfast and then continued down to the Mall to take in some culture.  The metro was quite impressive; not only was the architecture inside the station at Gallery Place quite pleasing, but there were cushions on the train!  And carpet!  We had intended to hit up the Nat’l Portrait Gallery as well as the Spy Museum, but after getting our fill of espionage, drinks were in order, so we proceeded to some brewery, where we watched an old crazy have the time of her life, talking to herself.  Her cardigan was on backwards, and she wore a double strand of pearls, maybe to accent her shiny-gray dreads she had stuffed into a beanie…Whatever the case, she was having more fun than anyone at the bar.  She just laughed and laughed at whatever her imaginary companion was saying.  I’m still curious about what their conversation was about.   Monday evening, after resting and getting ready and having a photo shoot, we all ventured into Adams Morgan to meet up with Party Monster and Co…lots of old friends from high school that I hadn’t spent a New Years Eve with in twelve years.  It was quite the event.  We rolled up in Party Monster’s older brother’s loft apartment, two blocks of 18th St, which was busting at the seams so many people were packed into the streets.  Cops had to shut the streets down to auto traffic; they were just too many people everywhere.  We had the luxury of enjoying a roof terrace…we watched some far-away fireworks, and the Homeland Security helicopters circling around Important Buildings over downtown.  We also got plenty of New Years whoopin’ and screamin’, shuckin’ and jivin’ done.  Apparently, a baby lives below PM’s brothers, so we were supposed to be quiet in the house…which was an impossibility, with the Forces of Evil reunited again.   After watching the ball drop (and seeing the Persian Princess’ national commercial debut at 11:46 during Rockin’ Eve celebration!) we all headed down to 18th St, into the throngs of drunk and hostile people.  New Years Eve can bring out the worst in people, I think.  We went to the Pharmacy Bar, which was playing some lousy metal when we arrived, but Party Monster straightened that out shortly, and got the DJ to play some good dance jamzzzz.  My ears are still ringing from dancing too close to the speakers when Boston came on.  It was an awesome time.  I Did Not make out with anyone at midnight, which was a bit of a disappointment, but I had a great time, regardless.  That’s saying a lot…no New Years kisses, and it was still the best New Years Eve, yet.   I got wasted off of half a shot of whiskey, over ice.  I will be a cheap date forever.   We finally got into bed at about 4, and I promptly had a giggling fit that lasted an hour.  We all woke up at about eleven, went and had lunch in Dupont Cirlce with A’s sister and her girlfriend, and then packed the car and headed home.  I slept most of the way back, and had the most fascinating and entertaining dreams about being friends with Cher.  She can be quite charming when she feels like it…  As we were pulling into R and M’s home-base city, we got to laughing so hard, I almost peed myself.  I couldn’t see or breathe, and we were shaking the car, the three of us were laughing so hard.  It was a good way to conclude an amazing, brief road trip.   I love my friends.  They are truly the best in the world.  My friends can beat your friends in a dance-off, any day!   

Diamonds In The Mail December 30, 2007

I got a Christmas present from JJJ today in the mail.  It was an awesome, three-pronged present; hot green clutch, which contained an original drawing and a necklace I’ve been asking anyone, everyone for, for the past decade.  I finally got my fire opal.  Superstition says you can’t buy one for yourself…it’s bad luck…so I never did buy myself one, even though I lusted after the gorgeous gems.  In addition to a beautiful teardrop opal, there are three diamonds in a pyramid above the setting.  It’s gorgeous.  I’ve never gotten diamonds before.  I never knew that receiving an expensive piece of jewelry could affect me like it did, nestled in it’s antique-looking red leather box.  I held my breath when I opened it…no one has ever given me a box like that before, a tiny thing with real metal hinges so it doesn’t snap open and spill it’s treasure out.  I never knew I was the kind of girl that would respond like I did, with tears.  It looks good around my neck.  I stood in the bathroom mirror and moved my shoulders from side to side, slightly, just so I could see the fire inside the rock burn.   I am softening.  I can feel it happening.  No one has ever exhibited such a strong desire to be with me…when my other relationships ended, mutually, or not, we never fought much to hang on to them. One big fight, somebody walked away for good, and don’t look back.  No grand, sweeping gestures letting me know I Was Worth It.  Until now.  And I am having a hard time resisting, having a hard time understanding why I even should.  It’s very confusing.  And it makes me feel like I, too, apparently have a price, which doesn’t feel good.  What feels good is that She is continuously doing things that let me know she’s thinking of me, and that she wants to make it right, that she is trying.  I would have been happy with a letter and a drawing, that’s the truth, but I don’t hate getting the flowers or the Nice Pretty Things and the vacation for spring break (Jamaica!!)  I feel like I’ve spent my entire adult lifetime doing nice, pretty things for the nice, pretty people I’ve loved, and I never got much of that back.   No one has ever treated me like something they couldn’t live without.  No one ever loved me like her, and no one ever hurt me like her, either; I guess the two go hand in hand sometimes, in an imperfect world.   All I know is that we’re gonna have a helluva good time in Jamaica.   It will be hard to brush aside the Magic Times we’ve shared when we’re lounging in tropical locales, snorkeling in the Caribbean waters and spending lots of time in Not Many clothes.  Seduction isn’t hard when there are bathing suits involved.  I’ve always been a sucker for the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue, not gonna lie.  Palm trees and bikinis, I’m ready.   

Some Who? July 5, 2007

I had the wackest dream last night…I can’t stop thinking about how bizarre it was. I gotta share.

So, the dream begins in Florida. There is nothing to indicate that it is Florida aside from the fact that I know it is. I am with my lady, and we’re driving around trying to find something to eat. We end up settling on something that reminded me of an upscale IHOP…breakfast food, sticky tables, waitress didn’t have all her teeth, but the food presentation was really pretty. So we’re eating our meal, enjoying ourselves, and this girl sitting at a table near us starts talking shit. I don’t know why, but she is really pissed off at me, specifically. She starts throwing things, and ends up threatening us with a knife. I punched her in the face (to subdue her?) and me and hotness leave the restaurant, without paying, I believe. The girl chases us out, and starts screaming that she’s calling the cops and that I’ll pay for hitting her, etc etc etc. We walk around the side of the building to where the car is parked, and sure enough, there are cops not only at my car, but in my car. We played it off really slick and just kept walking like we were on our way to the movie theater next door. The movie theater next door magically changed to the movie theater on Tunnel Rd. in Asheville, NC at this point in the dream (but from the outside only). We go in the movie theater, and as luck would have it, I know the manager on duty. We explain the situation quickly, and he tells us to go hide in the bathroom down this long corridor at the very back of the theater. So we do. I see the cops come into the movie theater from a crack in the door, at which point I start to freak out. My ladyfriend decides the quickest way to calm me down would be to have some public sex in the bathroom we’re hiding in, so… After that’s over, we creep from the bathroom and find the cops are gone. Exiting the theater, we find that my car has been towed and we are now stuck with no vehicle, in a city and state we are not happy to be in. Things get more complicated here: Apparently, I have pissed off an ex-girlfriend (someone I’ve never, in reality, seen before…this crazy looking redhead) so she’s hired a team of assassins to kill me and sweet thang. These assassins descend in a helicopter and start firing machine guns; I put baby in a car and told her just to drive, because they were really after me. She screeched away, and right then, they dumped some weird green paste-y mixture over my head that knocked me out. When I came to, I was propped against the wall in a hotel room, with a ‘guard’ playing on the internet. It became apparent that they all thought I was dead—the green goo was supposed to be lethal. I waited until dude went to the bathroom, then ran like hell. Naturally, my baby screeched up in the stolen car at precisely the right moment, and she had the mom from Family Ties with her (who can know?) so I jumped in the back seat and we screeched away. The green goo was still having an effect on me, like I was walking/talking underwater, but I was conscious, at least. So we’re cruisin’, taking the secret back roads, trying to get to my mom’s house, close to Raleigh. Driving through the more industrial section of town, we realize that we’ve driven into the middle of a Gangsta Football Tournament Death Match Showdown…where they play streetball, but instead of using a ball, they use bullets. It doesn’t really make sense, but we were driving through road blocks they’d set up to establish boundaries, and they were pissed that we were getting in their game, so we became the game. They all started shooting at us, and Hotpants was driving like a stunt driver, bobbin’ and weavin’, avoiding bullets and plowing through teams of large black men with lots of gold chain and large handguns. Finally, the car is too trashed to drive anymore, so we all set off on foot. We left Meredith Baxter Burney to her own devices, and Hotpants and I take off down this intricate alley system. Finally, we come to this trestle that will take us across the street to safety. It’s made of wood, and there is a homeless girl that lives on it (homage to trolls under bridges everywhere?). Hotpants goes first, races across, motions for me to hurry. I get about halfway across, and the damn thing collapses…it’s the flimsiest trestle EVER. So now I’m on the ground, running from these gangstas that want to kill me for interrupting their game. I’m hauling ass by the railroad tracks when I realize that the army has arrived to deal with these guys. They are all in desert fatigues, and they’re putting up barriers and stands to hide behind…I slide behind one with a quickness, and the soldier almost shoots me, until I convince him I’m not a gangsta. At this point, the gang war drops away, and I’m walking, casually, down the train tracks on Hillsboro St, by the Waffle House. This tiny little girl the size of a six month old baby walks up to me and says she’s lost her mommy. After questioning her for a while, it’s apparent her mother has abandoned her, so I take the girl with me. I arrive at my mom’s house late at night, and she’s not there (???), but her cat is…it’s this crazy, bigheaded orange striped kitten. The baby and the kitten roll around on the floor together, playing, and I immediately fall in love with the little girl and decide I can’t give her up to DSS. Unfortunately, I’ve already called them, and they’re on their way, pounding on my door already, and a bizarre, repetitive chase scene starts up again, except this time, I’m toting a baby on my hip. It was an exhausting, epic dream.

Sometimes I am frightened by the things my brain can produce while I’m sleeping, and the clarity with which I can remember them, after waking. Bizarre shit.