Once Per Year

I confess. I'm doing it. I've been doing it for weeks already. Listening to Christmas music, especially when it's not shoved down my throat for eight hours each day, is wonderful fun. All those annoying songs that made me want to scrunch up my fists and scream two years ago now delight me again. Crazy, eh? I was even online yesterday downloading new songs from iTunes. I have big plans to put all the Christmas music I own on my iPod and torture Jason with it as we drive five hours up north this Friday. Yay! I imagine we will be driving into the snow so the music will seem especially appropriate.

I'm one of the weird ones, I think. I'm captivated by snow. I got so excited when it snowed for the first time the other night that I had to call Jason to the door to see it. I caught some on my tongue. Why get upset? Seriously. Unless a person has just been transplanted from Hawaii, snow should not come as a surprise, something to be met with dismay. We get it every year. Every year. It's pretty. There's something very exhilarating about crunching through the crisp white, exhaling a warm cloud with every breath. I love snuggling up under blankets. I love the sound the heat makes when it kicks on at my house. This all makes me believe that I should give skiing a try. I just need to get over my fear of heights and the general idea that ski lifts are not secured and I could fall out. No, seriously, I could. I would panic and fall. Or I need to forget the fact that Jason brained himself to the point of wooziness a couple years ago while snowboarding for the first time. Sounds like an entirely safe sport. Hmmm...maybe I'll give it more thought and stick to catching snow on my tongue for now.

Speaking of snow, let me talk about Hawaii. I've been going through my yearly longings for all things tropical lately. I think I may have even fooled my new Facebook friends into believing I actually live on Maui. Sigh. If only. Jason could be a police officer in paradise by now, happily ticking off the years until he gets to 25 and retirement with a full pension. Again, how bad can crime get on the Valley Isle? I'd just need to get my entire family to move with me. Ten hours on an airplane (a full six over nothing but ocean) would be more than could be tolerated even for a visit, I fear. How would it be to spend Christmas in 80 degree heat? I heard stories of Christmas Day barbeques the last time Jason and I visited and talked with native islanders. Strange. Christmas in shorts and a tank top, with grilled hamburgers? I'm such a fan of experiencing four seasons. I'm not sure I could adjust...even for Maui. But frequent vacations could be tolerated, very well in fact. I think I will start putting money away again. Our next trip will include an additional week and possibly a different island. I suppose it's time to explore the other things Hawaii has to offer.

One more hour until I get to go shopping for snow boots. Is it weird that I live in a state that experiences snow every year and I do not own a pair of snow boots? I'm tired of slipping around in my dress boots or getting snow in my shoes. Enough is enough. Fashion be damned.

I don't like to talk about it but I was able to muster up exactly zero motivation yesterday during my day off. I had a laundry list of chores I could have accomplished. I paid the bills annnnnd...that's it. Oh, and I changed the sheets on our bed at about 11:30 at night. That was my day. Exciting, eh? Today, I worked (or am "working" currently). I called my uncle to tell him that Jason and I will not be able to make Thanksgiving dinner at his house. I attempted to call my mother-in-law to firm up turkey day plans with her, but was thwarted by the answering machine. I did some homework. As was stated, Jason and I are going shopping for boots and winter coats later. Perhaps a Target trip will also be in order as I have a list of items I need (though isn't there always items to need from Target?). Tomorrow, we will venture into the cold yard to clean up the leaves for the last time and possibly hang Christmas lights. I can redeem my weekend still. I have faith.

I also have my sights set on our bedroom. I have a new rug to roll out and trim to paint (yes, four years later there is still trim to paint). I want to wash the curtains and clean the blinds. I'm just trying to decide if I can wrestle the rug down by myself, as Jason doesn't know about it and thinks I'm planning on returning it to IKEA. It will make a bigger statement if he sees it already on the floor and set into place. Harder to return once it's pinned down by our bed. Hee, hee. We'll see what I can get done this week. It's a short one and I have to get ready for our trip up north as well.

Time to be off, I suppose, and find library-related trouble to get into until we close.

My Aloha

When I close my eyes, I can feel the plane banking on approach to paradise. I see the sugarcane fields, a patchwork quilt of green covering the landscape below. Volcanoes rise to my right and to my left, imposing yet inviting in every possible way. All around me blue crashes against my conscious like a pounding wave, but below, a lush oasis in the vast ocean, my oasis.

I am about to leave myself far, far behind. A transformation takes place during the seconds after touchdown. I exist somewhere between the runway and heaven. I begin to smell the fresh island air. I hear the engines wind down. "Welcome to Maui," I hear the pilot say. Indeed. I have found my aloha again.

As Dino and all the other friendly island natives have maintained, Maui no ka'oi. It's true. I find real theraputic benefit in spooning up red raspberry shave ice from a cup so big it could hold a basketball. Where else can I shake hands with my tattoo artist as he arrives still dripping from the ocean? And trust me, there is no replacement for alliviating road rage with the flip of a shaka sign. Waking early each morning with the sole purpose of padding onto the lanai to watch the sunrise reflect over the ocean or to take a leisurely stroll along plumeria-lined paths is to experience pure bliss. My zen is watching sea turtles swimming strong against the current or perhaps catching a glimpse of a sting ray gliding silently through the depths, like a spector through the night. This is the land of flip-flops and board shorts, where even the most staunchly buttoned-up individual is seduced by sea spray and sun. Here I am convinced to soar down a volcano on a bike, hike through a grove of guava trees, explore the drippy and dark inside of a lava tube with nothing more than my nerve and a flashlight, dip a kayak paddle into the ocean, snorkel inside the crator of a dormant volcano, lose myself and the morning walking among lava rocks, take flight over towering waterfalls and consider the fact that, at least for the moment, adventure and I exist together, as one. Here, I find my inner goddess. Here, on this island, at this moment, I am no longer lost, but found. Here, I experience my true self.

Later, as the plane fades into the distance sky, streaking towards reality, I close my eyes again, this time carefully tucking my love, my Maui, into a secure place within my mind. I may already be transforming, leaving heaven for the earth, but I know that I will forever carry my aloha with me. I might hide it from day-to-day life, protecting that which is sacred, but I can draw from it, using its strength and beauty, always...until the day I return.

Mahalo, Maui. I thank you.

Don't Tell It Where I Am

Shhh....don't say anything. I won't either. Maybe if we're totally quiet my cough won't find me. Shhh...

I just came from the salon where I spent my life's savings on another haircut. No, it wasn't nearly the heart attack-inducing amount I was faced with paying several months ago but it was still pretty bad. Especially for someone who is used to paying maybe $50 for a cut and color (or $20 for a cut and $10 for a box of color from the drugstore). So why did I go back? Seriously, why, after I was told that everything in my beauty regime was wrong and I still ended up emptying my wallet and bank account, did I even consider returning? I suppose it's because I really liked the way my hair turned out. I got lots of compliments. I even got a "You're hair looks f**king awesome." I even liked the makeup tips she gave me, after I calmed down and stopped wanting to hate her for making me feel ugly during my appointment. In total, the package worked. It was an investment. Truly. And today when I realized that I was able to go for three full months without coloring my hair and still feel like it looked decent, the investment made much more sense. I still have a hard time justifying the amount I spent, even though tonight's price was half of what it was three months ago. I'm not the type of person to insist on expensive beauty products, and until now, that included haircuts. But, I suppose some things are worth the extra expense. I've always loved my hair the best, in terms of my features, so it makes sense that I might consider pampering myself a bit more in that department.

Now, I'm going to put my feet up, have a snack and calmly channel my inner zen goddess so I can continue to hide from my cough. Calm. Oooommm.

The BIG Move

I've done it. I've made the "required" move from MySpace, where I previously blogged happily on an almost daily basis to Facebook, where I've frequently been befuddled and frustrated while trying to link up with friends and attempting to create a new space in which to share my daily life activities. Sigh. But...HERE I AM. Again. Welcome me.