30 April 2004
The Posse Arrives
More of our pals have arrived on the island! Eric "Cartman", Lola, and Paul called this morning to say that they were approaching Hilo. Lamont, Satoshi, Kendal, and I met them at Blane's Drive-In, where I enjoyed yet another helping of delicious, heart-stopping loco moco. I should have my cholesterol checked when I get home!
Lamont, Satoshi, and Kendal wanted to go surfing, and I had had enough of the beach. So, I followed Cartman, Lola, and Paul to two spectacular spots: Rainbow Falls, then Boiling Pots.
Soon my companions had to leave for Kona to pick up our pal Pete at the airport. I headed for a strip of grubby old shops on the beach and did some thrifting. At the Pink Elephant Thrift Shop, I picked up a great shirt for $4. The ladies behind the counter, one 91 years old and the other 83, told me that they remember San Francisco when it used to be really nice, "before all the hippies and the gays came." Hrm. I kinda like those hippies and gays!
I made a quick trip up Highway 91 to the Laupahoehoe Train Museum to pick up a thing or two for my dad, a serious train buff (real trains, not model trains). By the time I rejoined Lamont, Satoshi, and Kendal, it was raining holy hell. We decided it would be wise not to attempt a trip to the volcano this evening. Instead it'll be a leisurely evening at home with Internet, TV, and whiskey! We begin by watching part of a recording of the Merrie Monarch Festival, which took place the week before I arrived in the islands. Satoshi is kindly making me a copy of this five-hour hula extravaganza!
Meanwhile, the rest of our posse is assembling in and near the Hapuna Beach Prince Resort. Tomorrow at sunset, we'll all congregate there, on the beach, and watch our friends Aimee and Dennis exchange their vows.
29 April 2004
Lamont Arrives
I'd been vaguely disappointed on arriving in Kona. After the thick, wet jungle of Kauai, it was a little shocking to find myself in a barren landscape formed by 'a'a lava flows, jagged and hostile. They say it's called 'a'a because that's the sound you make when you try to walk on it. But as it turns out, I was just on the ugly side of this island. Don't get me wrong: ugly is just another sort of beauty, but it's not my favorite sort.
Sonic and I had a leisurely morning playing with Gabe, the finch that Sue and her kids rescued from their back yard and tamed. Then we met Sue at the elementary school, where Sonic was the show-and-tell for little Hannah's kindergarten class. Their current subject is transportation, so Sonic told them about her travels on various ships. When asked whether they had questions for Sonic, most of the kids wanted help with their math homework. "What's six plus three?" they asked her. "Uhm, I think it's nine."
Sonic and I drove up to Waimea and scored some cool stuff at the Salvation Army store there. We knew that Lamont would be landing at Kona soon and passing through Waimea, so we settled down at a cafe and phoned him with our location. Soon he appeared in his rented Mustang convertible. (With which he doubtless hopes to score many, many chicks.) Sue picked Sonic up and took her back to Waikoloa Village, and Lamont and I headed toward Hilo to meet his friends Kendal and Satoshi.
On the east side of the Big Island, it's very lush and damp, more like the landscape I loved on Kauai. Kendal and Satoshi say that everything develops mold and mildew if neglected even briefly. After dinner, we pulled out a Scrabble board, which emerged from its box with a light film of mold on its backing. Ick! We all played fiercely anyway, with Lamont emerging victorious despite being forbidden to play the word "COWEGGS".
28 April 2004
Alone Time
I love being with people, but I also need a lot of time alone. I think it's similar to the need for sleep, for dreaming, for the brain to sort its thoughts without the influence of external stimuli. After too much time with other people, even my very favorite people, I feel fatigued and cranky, and my coping mechanisms break down. My sanity requires regular periods of solitude.
Sonic usually travels by car or boat after a particularly harrowing flight left her terrified of flying. But lately she's overcoming that trauma, and today we flew from Kauai to the Big Island. With a little help from a hypnotist, some prescription anti-anxiety pills, and a beer, she flew bravely. It was even fun!
But by the time we arrived at her sister Sue's house in Waikoloa Village, I knew I needed to escape. I was inexplicably sulky and close to tears. Sue's delicious bacon, cheese, and spinach quiche soothed me, but I was still feeling restless.
I took the rental car and split for Kona, determined to locate the only cineplex on this side of the island. I love wandering around unfamiliar places alone, finding my way. When I finally found the cineplex, the only show worth seeing was Kill Bill Vol. 2. I'd seen it already, but I was psyched to see it again. It's a movie-lover's movie, especially if you like movies about women kicking ass and taking names.
So, not much happened today, but I got a little fix of solitude and I'm ready to resume socializing, sulk-free. Yay!
Unlike Sonic's house, the Internet connection here is a little complicated—some kind of AOL-over-satellite setup. I'm writing this on my little mobile phone. So, pictures may not be posted promptly. Patience, nice reader!
27 April 2004
Snorkeling!
Finally I got to snorkel! The weather was perfect and we had our rented masks and fins ready. Sonic picked up her friend Emily; they volunteer together at the Kilauea Point Wildlife Refuge.
We went to Kee Beach, also known as "the end of the road". Beyond Kee is the Na Pali Coast, a vertical wilderness, impassable except on foot. At Kee Beach, the waves break far from shore, past coral reefs laced with beautiful fish.
Sonic and Emily snorkeled only briefly, but since it was my first time, I lingered in the water, fascinated. I didn't get to see a sea turtle, but I did see an angelfish and a dozen other colorful species. I quickly overcame the anxiety of breathing through a narrow tube, and learned to cope with my leaky rented mask. The fish seemed to regard me as no particular threat, though of course none of them let me pet them. There were bottom-feeders, lone fish, schools, fish that hid in the shadows, and fish that preferred the sunlight. Many seemed happy to hang out and let me tag along on their travels around the reef. I took pictures with a disposable underwater camera—hopefully some of them turned out well!
Eventually, I tore myself away from the cute fish and joined Sonic and Emily on the sand, where we all developed "Polynesian paralysis" and lay limply in the sun. Wild chickens milled about, hoping for crumbs from tourists' sandwiches. I applied more sunscreen, knowing that I'll be very sorry indeed if I burn my pale pink skin. We lay there some more, and roused ourselves slowly.
At the farmers' market in Waipa, we sipped ice-cold coconut milk straight from the nut and bought salad, goat cheese, zucchini, avocado, papaya, apple bananas, and a pineapple. Back at Sonic's house, we made salads from the greens and goat cheese. Soon it was time to take Emily home, return our gear to Snorkel Bob's, and visit Safeway for a few dinner items. There's a Cold Stone Creamery next to the Safeway, where I scratched an itch with a healthy helping of Peanut Butter Cup Perfection. Yum!
Now it's a quiet evening at home as we prepare to shift our scene to the Big Island tomorrow. Short ribs and zucchini for dinner, along with blended-fruit cocktails. Laundry. Planning. And now to bed.
26 April 2004
All Wet, All The Time
Kauai receives more rainfall than anywhere else on earth. This morning it was raining again, profusely and with gusts of palm-tree-bending wind. I say, bring it on. This is how the sky ravages the fertile earth and makes her blush and blossom. The sound and smell of it are delicious, and being out in the weather thrills me.
Not everyone feels that way. I get incredulous looks and comments like, "You're going out there? But you'll get wet!" Yeah, I'm gonna go out and get wet, and smell the sodden plants and the mud, and lean into the wind. Woohoo!
But by the time Sonic and I had omelets and left the house, the rain had stopped and it was merely overcast. Still, the surf was too high for snorkeling, so we occupied ourselves with other touristy pursuits: Kilauea Wildlife Refuge and its lighthouse, sampling strange fruits at a roadside stand, shopping for ridiculous souvenirs, renting snorkel gear for the next day, walking along Mana Oka'aina, having cocktails, attending a Disneyland-style luau show ("It's a small world..."), and finally dinner.
25 April 2004
Disorganization, and Rain
Today we got a late start and did not plan well, so we did very few things:
- lunch at the Oki Diner in Lihue, where I had the loco moco
- considered renting snorkeling gear—but while we considered it, it began to rain
- got lost on the way to Poipu, ending up in Hanapepe
- visited Spouting Horn, a group of lava-tunnel blowholes
- found Poipu, splashed around in the water, then watched the surfers riding the wild waves
- drove through the Tree Tunnel
- visited Wailua Falls, featured on Fantasy Island
- had drinks at the Princeville Hotel
- met Jeannie for dinner at Sushi Blues
It rained sporadically all day, but it wasn't uncomfortable. The raindrops and the air are both tepid, and one dries off quickly. I don't mind the rain. After all, it's what makes the island so green!
24 April 2004
A Surfing Contest
At home, I have a packet of California poppy seeds that came in the mail for free, maybe from the Sierra Club or somesuch. On the plane to Hawaii, they make you fill out an agricultural customs form swearing that you are carrying no foreign plants. Last night I dreamed that I opened my luggage, discovered that I'd accidentally brought these seeds, and—oh no!—instantly they were scattered to the wind, unleashing California poppies on the Hawaiian islands.
Sonic sleeps very late, and I'm still on Pacific Time, so I was up and ready about six hours before she was. I tagged along with Frank to see a surfing contest at Hanalei Bay. Everyone here surfs! Some of his pals were competing and did very well. Bethany Hamilton was there, still surfing and apparently none the worse for losing an arm to a shark.
The contest lasted all day, so I took a break by walking to Hanalei, where I had lunch, checked out the touristy shops full of flipflops and crappy lava carvings, wrote postcards, and enjoyed a couple of margaritas at a tiki bar.
When I returned to the beach, the grassy parking area had turned into a big tailgate party full of barbecues and beer. Sonic joined us, and we walked a block to the bungalow that Magnus and Arda are renting. Several hours and many cocktails later, we were all very silly. I don't recall much after that, except pleading with Frank to take us home so I could pass out, still in my clothes.
23 April 2004
Getting Here
I dreamed I was listening to the BBC World Service, about Poland joining the European Union to become its largest member. Opening my eyes, it was 4:01am and indeed I was listening to the BBC. It was so early that the cat didn't even get out of bed to demand breakfast. He merely rolled over and purred at me as I got dressed. I kissed him many times before rushing out the door to catch the 22 Fillmore in the dark. I always miss my cat the most.
I arrived at SFO with no ticket and no reservation. All I had was a $129 "flight pass" from airtech.com, entitling me to fly standby on either of exactly two flights, neither of them going to Kauai. I'd have to take whichever one was available and then get a last-minute reservation on a connecting flight. Airtech's flight status Web page was not encouraging: each of those two flights had less than five remaining seats—and could be sold out by the time I reached the airport. But I was in luck! I got a seat on the 8:00am flight to Maui.
This cheapass flight strategy took me island-hopping: First I landed in Maui, then hopped over to Honolulu before finally reaching Kauai.
Sonic was waiting for me at Lihue Airport. The purpose of this trip is to visit her at her temporary home in Princeville.
Sonic tells me that she had a dream just last night, about our friend danh: Sonic was dogged by a small creature about two inches high, shaped like a little black cat with supernaturally green eyes, seemingly made of lizard-skin. As she was going about her usual activities, the creature would suddenly appear in the periphery and spook her by telepathically transmitting its bizarre thoughts. And the creature was danh!
I woke up too early, and it's three hours earlier here than in California. Tired! Sonic and I are staying in tonight, so that I can go to bed "early".
21 April 2004
A Visit to Macy's
I haven't been inside a department store in a couple of years, but today I went to Macy's at Union Square. Good lord, that place is a freakish bizarro-world of shopping. It's like being inside a big Las Vegas casino: no clocks, no sunlight, no obvious exits, and everything you might want contained on seven levels sitting on most of a city block. Time loses meaning as you navigate a maze of products, products, products.
I had some important pre-vacation shopping to do. I picked out a cute two-piece bathing suit. Bought a dozen pairs of socks. Had my favorite watch fixed. By the time I spelunked my way out of that place, I'd lost two hours and too much money, and been offered a credit card three times.
Sometimes I'm reminded how off-baseline my lifestyle has become. Department stores are a staple for most Americans, right? I know I spent plenty of time in them when I lived in a sprawling suburbia. Now they spook me a little bit.
Returning to my neighborhood, I visited Upper Playground and treated myself to a couple of nifty new t-shirts. Upper Playground is small, minimalist, and staffed by mildly sullen young hipster-dudes. Lower Haight is an omni-shopping hive too, but composed of individual little store-cells like this one. Stepping out onto Fillmore, I bumped into Carlos, the guy who runs the bicycle repair shop next door. "Back wheel holding true?" he asked. "Yep, no more wobble, thanks!" I beamed at him.
I love that my neighborhood merchants know me. The gay man who runs the pet store knows I dote on a 12-pound cat. The ladies at Haight To Wash know I have a stripey laundry bag and prefer everything washed in cold water. "You have lot of laundry!" they tell me. When I walk into Chilli Cha Cha, the waitress says, "red curry chicken, right?" When I ordered the tall stack at Kate's Kitchen and failed to make a dent in it, the waiter remarked, "I was going to warn you, but I know you've been in here enough to know better!" Every time I pass the corner store at Page and Fillmore, patriarchal Abrahim waves at me from behind his counter. He regularly remarks that I buy only chocolate ice cream.
Getting ready for a vacation is hard work. Since I still have more stuff to do, and since I'm flying standby anyway, I'm postponing my departure until Friday. Hooray for flexibility!
19 April 2004
826 Valencia
Wow, there are so many great ways to spend my recently-expanded free time. I can undertake all sorts of new projects. Today I'm particularly excited about one that had been on my to-do list for too long: volunteering at 826 Valencia, a non-profit organization for tutoring kids in writing.
Today I interviewed with the volunteer coordinator, Quressa. As soon as I return from my trip to Hawaii, I'll start spending part of every Thursday afternoon in the drop-in tutoring program, helping kids with their writing homework assignments after school. As I learn the ropes, I may also participate in their in-school programs, or even teach a workshop. I'm looking forward to developing skills for sharing what I know with ripe young brains. Mmmm... brains....
Oh, and if you're local and you haven't yet checked out the pirate store at 826 Valencia, you're missing out. It's fully stocked with all manner of piratey goodness! Even if you're not local, you can support 826 Valencia by ordering pirate-related products online.
18 April 2004
Surprise!
"I'm having a little barbecue at my place on Sunday," I told Rick. "Just, you know, four or five of our usual pals. Because it's finally spring and our garden is looking nice now."
Surprise!
It was a barbecue all right, but with twenty people instead of five. People from Rick's company, people from Rick's band, and people with whom Rick likes to flirt, all shouting, "Happy birthday!"
The conspirators enjoyed setting the trap. Judith provided contact info for Rick's work- and band-friends, and gave Rick a ride to ensure his reliable arrival. Renee marinated chicken and baked a yummy tequila-flavored cake. Various guests invented red herrings all week long, to foil Rick's suspicion. Hooray! Good job, everyone. Thanks to his pals, Rick was shown a real good time. . . maybe a little too good!
17 April 2004
Picture Day
My friend Brent is a part-time photographer with lots of hard-core photo equipment and a sharp eye. Over time, he's photographed most of his friends, in his home studio and elsewhere. He gets to practice his art that way, and we get professional-quality pictures! Today, it was my turn.
As Brent quickly discovered, I like to confound the photographer by making ridiculous faces at the camera! It disperses my anxiety about being looked at and having my dorky image recorded. But Brent was tolerant of my goofiness, and some of these pictures will turn out great. When I'm an elderly husk, I'll use them to prove to the nursing home staff that I was once cute.
14 April 2004
The Night Guard
I have mixed feelings about my night guard, but I decided to give it yet another chance and try to wear it every night. Last night was the first in a couple of months.
Early this morning, I woke up with my mouth empty. Groping around, I found my night guard among the sheets. How did it leave my mouth? Did I spit it out? Did it somehow fall out of my gaping jaws? I sighed and set it on the pillow beside me. I awoke again an hour later and found the cat lying on top of it. Wearing my night guard is hard.
7 April 2004
Cat-In-A-Box
Every time I see my parents, my Dad gives me a box full of fresh fruit. As a crop production consultant, he has implicit permission to pick a bit of fruit from the orchards and fields of his Kern County farmer-clients. In winter, I get oranges and almonds. In summer, it's grapes and Asian pears. Each batch of fruit comes in an industry fruit-box.
Each farm's label is unique, and these boxes are being rendered obsolete by crude styrofoam analogs, so I keep every one of them. They're all over the apartment, holding DVDs, magazines, mail, and old journals. They're also, incidentally, the perfect size for my 12-pound cat.
7 April 2004
Cheap Thrills
I'm sure glad that not many folks read my blog! It would suck if everyone knew about Darlene's Fabrics in the Mission. Darlene's is a vulgar mess of random fabrics spilling out of bins in a grungy neighborhood. Rooting around like aardvarks are the local señoras and miscellaneous young do-it-yourself fashionistas. Much of it is cheap crap, but there are always several dozen absolute gems—none of them more than $4/yard. Last weekend, the owner finally took me aside and explained why: Textile and clothing designers unload their extras and samples here, where they're resold for pennies on the dollar. This outfit cost me about $10 in materials, plus about four hours of my time.
5 April 2004
Optimism
Sometimes, making a new friend has some curious physiological effects on me:
- loss of appetite
- reluctance to sleep
- inability to concentrate
- excessive daydreaming
- compulsive grinning
Fortunately, these symptoms become mellower with successive incidents. The very first time is perfectly excruciating.
I was 14 when this first happened to me. I awoke abruptly in the middle of the night, electrified. For three hours, I trembled in my twin bed, obsessing about my new friend. I imagined that he might be awake too, maybe charged with the same electricity. Nothing could possibly have soothed me; I was bound to squirm in the pitch blackness until exhaustion plunged me into a series of disturbingly dissonant dreams. For several days, I ate very little and had only rudimentary conversation with others.
This memory reminds me that adolescence is the most harrowing phase of human life. Coping mechanisms are underdeveloped and personal resources are few, at the same time that one is seized by violent insecurities and seething hormones. Everything is hopelessly operatic. Whenever adults told me that it was the best time of my life, I wondered, "How can it get any worse?"
But no. It gets better. Much, much better! Everything is fine and likely to continue on a very fine trajectory.
4 April 2004
Mattspotting
Ert phoned me at home this afternoon: "I'm at Haight and Fillmore, and Matt Gonzalez is standing on the sidewalk, chatting on his cellphone!" Naturally, I put on some shoes and trotted around the corner—but the scruffy and elusive (soon to be ex-) supervisor had vanished. Ert and I settled into a couch at Cafe International and discussed hiring a private investigator to track Matt's movements. We're both much too busy to stalk him ourselves!