Tuesday, February 05, 2008

The Waiting Game

I'm bored, and my eyes are bugging out.
"What," you may ask, "the hell are you doing? Drunk and insomnia?"

No, I've decided to stay up all night.

"Know thyself" it is written, and I do.
I know if I fell asleep at my normal time I would pull a total coma through the blaring alarms (yes, alarms, there are 3 set for every morning), and miss my cab, miss my flight and put my travel plans into complete disarray!

The last few hours trickle by filled with:

  • Padding through the apartment (tsch tsch should have cleaned more)
  • Petting Little Lilly (who is already breaking my heart at the thought of not being around her *sob*)
  • Drinking a pot of coffee
  • Worrying over the fact I only have one Camel Light remaining; considering walking to the twenty-four hour gas station up the street, but changing mind as I not in the mood to deal with the Cabbie/ Crack ho clientel there at this hour.
  • Staring, walking away, coming back and staring longer at my suitcase. Do I have everything?
  • Listening to classical music on the radio because I've learned over the past years classical music seems to stimulate something in my mind that keeps me awake (awake, not necessarily coherent).
  • Fiddling with and putting away or rearranging various knick-knacks and papers laying around the apartment.
  • Considering taking the rest of the garbage out (pfft, that's not going to happen).
  • Wasting time making lame comments here and, of course, here.
  • F.W.B? No, too late.
  • Blowing my nose, it's so dry in here.
  • Staring out the kitchen window at the empty street, slush, and fog.
  • Plucking dead leaves from my straggly, scrawny tomato plant. It did flower once. Um, one tiny yellow flower. I want a baby tomato, dammnit!
  • Zone-out on the various clocks throughout the apartment.
  • Let the Blogger "New Post" screen burn itself into my retinas, flaring my rods and cones, for minutes at a time without typing. My Cube somehow turned into My Blank Shit. Guest bloggers may be needed. HA!
  • Scroll through this.
  • Pour another coffee.
  • Look at last, lonely cigarette on microwave, "Resist, resist, man!"
  • Try to think of a paid online job to do during my full-time Bank job since I have such the large amount of down time there. And really, doesn't I Have 3 Jobs ring well with My Cube Has 3 Sides?
  • *sigh*
  • I want chocolate.

Okay, I'm boring myself.

See you all later!

Monday, February 04, 2008

Mai Tai(me)s in five hours

Yep, the count down is in the single digits.

Around Four a.m. or so, I should be lugging a suitcase through the snow and into a cab which will then swishhhhh me to O'Hare. At that point, in the wind and sleet and shouts of, "you can't park here..move along!" on some curb outside Terminal Two, I will smoke my final cigarette before I find myself trapped in the airport, airplane, Houston "Fuck you" GWB International, and another plane.

But then...then... I'll step out into the bright morning light. The whisper of salt air and waves of palm trees will great me as I strike a Camel Light (to avid protests of parents) in the land of this The Island of this Man!

That's right, after about twenty years, I will have returned to Hawaii (Doubtful, though, I'll sing and dance, especially with the eleven hour Nicotine Fit ravaging me at this point)

I remember seeing The Don in that exact setting you may have watched above.

I remember meeting a hard Rock Cafe waitress my Grandpa S. and I completely thought was a native Polynesian, and then we all laughed hard when she confessed to being from Wisconsin.

I remember my Uncle M. sneaking me my first Mai Tai at a loua (sp) at the Hilton.

I remember my dad and I taking a drive alone on Maui; we stopped at a smoking volcano and felt the heat from the red glow; we looked out at long plains which ended in mountains; we arrived at our destination, a gallery showing John Lennon's paintings and stood less than 6 feet away from Yoko Ono herself (the gallery owner told us she doesn't like to be approached).

I remember playing on a beach of black stone, running under a small white waterfall.

I remember the one hour van tour that ended up taking a winding, edge of cliff death 6 hours; and the driver taught my two cousins and I that "cuz" is Hawaiian for "dude" because in the end we are all really cousins in some way.

I remember finding the coolest cassette/t-shirt punk store around the corner from the Hard Rock Cafe, and buying a white Dead Kennedys T-shirt (with the Holidays in Cambodia Man icon) I still have it.

I remember standing near a bus stop and watching a leathery tanned man picking up a handful of cast-aside cigerette butts from the ground, then rolling his own out of the left over tobacco.

I remember Moo-moos made me and my cousins giggle (hee hee dresses for FAT people).

So who knows what memories I'll compile this year. Hopefully, loads of photos will follow soon. Some laughs and a tan would be nice. My parents got tickets for the Pro Bowl, so that'll be cool!

Until then, friends, Aloha and Mahalo!