The Average Blogger

Hawaii, For Realz

OK, so after our aborted efforts of Saturday, on Sunday we took off, flew allllllll day and got to Honolulu in time to watch the YP fall asleep while we were waiting for a table for dinner. Since the good folks at Cheeseburger in Paradise didn't see fit to put us in any of the 3 empty tables we saw, we bailed on them and had our first vacation dinner at .... McDonalds.  Yup.  And it was pretty good, too.  The YP revived and we chased him up and down Waikiki Beach for a little while, then wandered up the main strip. It is kind of like Times Square, only with better weather and a Cheesecake Factory.  So maybe that makes it more like Rodeo Drive, but closer to the beach. I don't know. It wasn't really what I wanted to see or spend time on, so a half-hour the first night was just about perfect.

Next morning we got up early and went back to the airport for a quick bouncy flight to the Big Island.  The YP was a total embarrassment at this juncture in the narrative.  He was tired, out of sorts, completely thrown off any sort of possible routine, and just a cranky bratty howling mess.  He also didn't believe me when I told him that this flight was not like the other flights and kicked up a tremendous fuss that I wouldn't let him get all his electronic games out because by the time we were in the air and it was allowed, we'd be landing before he could get situated enough to start playing one.  I suppose I should have just let him, because instead we fought and he cried for the entire 40 minutes we were in the air, and then he went into further meltdown mode when he dropped a bottle of water "An Important Figure" gave him (that is, the bottle of water the flight attendant gave him to try and shut him up,) and it rolled under a fence, into a street, and out of reach as we were getting on the car-rental shuttle. Good times, I tell ya.

Once we got the car, though, things improved a bit.  We drove from the airport north to our hotel, through lots and lots of lavabeds.  The "graffiti" over here cracked me up. Basically people take a bunch of bleached lava and coral and spell out messages. Nothing hostile, either, at least that we saw. 

We checked into our hotel but our room wasn't ready, so we had breakfast by the pool (with minimal hassling from the kid,) and then we headed back out to the car and drove around the northern part of the island and down the east side.  

Here is a plug for something we found invaluable.  You Need These Books. They are amazing and do not steer you wrong in any instance at all.  Every single thing they suggest is spot-on, and every place they say is a deserted beach really is deserted. I can't attest to Kauai or Maui because we weren't on those islands, but I'd vouch for those too.

It was gorgeous, and warm, and the ocean really is that clear and blue and amazing. It is also interesting to note the radical changes in geography in just a few hours driving in a circle.  The west side is all lava, black rocks, only a few scrubby trees.

The north is a big ol' rainforest and lush.

The east side is wet, but looks fairly tropical and Florida-esque

The south, we found out later, looks a bit like Tuscany or Ireland in spots. Lots of green, but lots of rocky cliffs.

So we drove counterclockwise about 3/4 of the way around the island and spent most of the afternoon at Volcanoes National Park.  We saw the crater. 

And we saw a really cool field of petroglyphs.

Then we took the book's advice and drove south to the "volcano viewing area." This was pretty cool. First, you and 600 million other people who know about this thing park your cars. It's a good idea to wear good shoes and bring a flashlight, but don't worry, a hardy band of entrepreneurs have tents set up selling flashlights for $5 to $10 a pop if you don't have one. They also sell food, water, photos of the lava better than any you'll get from the observation area, and assorted other street fair type stuff.

You really do need the flashlight, though. There is no light out there and you're hiking about a mile on a very bumpy uneven lava trail along with a LOT of other people. So if you trip, you're bound to fall on some other frail person and hurt them.

The hike is worth it, because the view is amazing, even if the photos suck. If you are serious about taking photos, bring a big-ass tripod and a good lens, and be expert at taking photos in the dark.  And around a scarp.

After that, well, we had dinner at Jack in the Box -- a rare treat for me -- and drove back to the hotel.  Ahhh, bed.

Up next, there are pools, and then there are pools...

WTF, Alfred?

Who am I, Tippi Hedren? This is the second day in a row I've been besieged by birds, and all that hyperactive flapping and all those sharp and shiny beaks combine to make me nervous. They are loud suckers, too. Pictures don't begin to do justice to the real thing.

Indeed, Indeed.

There's a Picasa auto-correct function labeled "I'm Feeling Lucky." Certain photos, like this one, remind me that even if I'm not, I certainly should be.

A Friend Writes...

"When did you get new cats? Who named them Gilda (Radner?) & Jane (Curtin?)"

Really? I never posted about that? It appears not. Well, then, allow me to rectify.*

So, yeah, a couple months ago, Shays died.  And then we looked at adoption agencies to get new kitties, and I wound up pissed off.  Then I looked on craigslist and found Free to a Good Home kitties, e-mailed the guy, and off we went for a visit.

The guy was giving his cats away because he was allergic to them.  Apparently he had tried to stick it out for a year for the rest of his Cat People family, but it wasn't working and they were going to get a dog instead. I found this amusing, because we are very much Dog People and the only reason we go for cats is because the Young Prince is allergic to dogs.  I think this is not as bad as it used to be, but it is still pretty hard to watch him itch and snort while he adjusts. 

The funny thing is, I completely forgot that cats have been known to do the same thing to me.  We've had our cat for so long and I'd completely adjusted to her and it didn't even occur to me UNTIL WE WERE DRIVING HOME WITH THE BEASTS that, huh, I might start sneezing and having to take Claritin forever. 

That hasn't turned out to be the case, so yay for growing out of allergies.

So, we go to visit the cats. One is a lovely grayish-brownish lonnnng hair furry calico -- named Clarissa -- and one is a gray striped shorthair tabby named Missy.  Yeah, I dunno. Maybe they are big fans of Melissa Joan Hart? I have no idea.

Not Your Average Blogger and I had been thinking about what we'd name cats if we got new ones.  I was really pushing to get a boy and a girl, a brother and sister. I like pairs. It's been my experience that same-gender pairs don't work as well as mixed.  And there we were, all set with paired names.  George and Gracie.  Jimi and Janis.  I think we had pretty much settled on Satchel and Nancy -- and here we are with two girls.

Um. Patsy and Edina? Liz and Jenna? NYAB and I hit generation gaps on girl duos. Either I thought they were lame or he'd never heard of them.  I said, "OK, Jane and Gilda."  He laughed. We kept going. Finally he landed on Roxie and Velma, which we thought the kid would like because he's constantly singing numbers from Chicago.  Not so much. The YP apparently felt we should keep calling them Missy and Clara. (Hey, he was close.)

Of course, the minute we got the cats to our house, they went into hiding behind the living room couches, so we didn't get much glimpse of their personalities at all.*  So we called them Roxie and Velma for about three days, but when they finally came out of hiding, NYAB decided that Jane just looked more like a Jane than a Roxie or a Velma, and back we went.

Funnily enough, when I finally looked at their vet records, Jane used to be Prudence before she was Missy. So maybe we should have given Gilda the name Mia instead? Eh. I like where we landed.  If we ever get a third cat we can name her Lorraine.  

Now that they're assimilated, they are pretty entertaining.  Gilda is a total diva and fluffs her fur and prisses around like the beauty queen she is. She demands pats of anyone who looks at her. Janey is very much a Janey.  She is the first cat I ever saw that will play fetch -- as in, you throw something, and she brings it back repeatedly. Not just once and "oh, I'm bored," but good volleys of 9 or 10 times. She is active and alert and has a very strong hunting instinct, as every single night when I am trying to go to sleep she attacks my toes under the blanket until I punt her off the bed.  Then she hops back up, lies down and the two of them conk out purring at the foot of the bed.

And the best thing is, where Shays would usually try to kill the kid if he came within 12 feet of her, these guys will put up with ANYTHING.  To wit:

Poor cat.  I wonder how long it'll take her to wise up and slice him.

*Now I remember why I never posted.  Because I was waiting for them to come out of hiding and let me take photos.  Then I posted photos on FaceBook, but not here.  Brilliant!

It's All Relative....

Well, I'm supposed to be on mini-vacation, and had this grand intention of posting something exciting and colorful every day. 

Except yesterday, I did nothing. (And it was everything that I thought it could be!) Well, not quite nothing.  We played some baseball. We had Richmond Friend visit, which is always a pleasure. But nothing really lending itself to colorful anecdotery, ergo, no exciting or colorful post.

So instead, I will tell you about the side project I've been dawdling along on, and an unexpected surprise. 

The side project is a genealogy of sorts -- found here, if you care in the slightest. (Though why you would if you aren't related, I don't know. There are probably some amusing anecdotes in there, but it's a godawful lot of sifting for not much return.) It's been a back-burner thing. Posts are written in e-mail English, with bad syntax, no attribution as to whether the stories are written by me or someone else, a lot of missing capital letters.

So .... why would I bring this up before it was ready to launch?

Because Google already launched me.  Heh.  Last week I got an email out of the blue from a lovely woman in Stamford, Conn., who said we share a grandfather a few generations back. I immediately called my father, who responded, "Ohhhh, yeah, I remember someone with that last name..."  And so the email began. It turns out we are ... some breed of cousin.  My great-grandmother and her grandfather were siblings. What's that make us? Yeah, me either. Like I said, some breed of cousin.

Here is something she sent me yesterday, that I have yet to put up in its proper place on the other page, but am so excited to have I can't tell you ....

CORRECTION: Clearly, I need an editor. And a better flow chart. My great-great-grandfather is the old guy in the middle row, and great-great grandmother is in the middle next to him. My great-grandmother is the kid on the end next to her.

So how cool is that!?! I sure do heart me the Internet when stuff like this happens.  And like I told Newfound Cousin -- my dad's immediate family was notorious for playing sort of fast and loose with the truth, so the idea that any of the tales handed down to me were at all  grounded in reality pleases me no end.

And, it gets me motivated to get back on this project and do some file cleaning! Ahh, spring.

Weekend Trip

Every time we go to New York these days, I feel like we are missing so much. We are usually there for long enough to do stuff but not long enough to get organized and motivated, plus we are usually tethered to the kid, and I'm such a lightweight anymore that if I'm not asleep by 11 it's a farking miracle. 

And NYAB doesn't drink, so there's that, too. Even if we didn't have the kid, bars and clubs are not his default setting.

So this was a pretty good trip, actually.  We weren't there long enough for me to feel we had time to waste, and we stayed out of the hotel room more or less the entire time until we were ready to go to bed.

We got to Union Station around 11, and Thomas had his first experience with Godiva chocolate. You can't see them here, but he got a chocolate duck. He was quite excited.

Then we got on the train and headed north.  I alternated looking out the window and looking at my BlackBerry, NYAB read Ivanhoe, and the YP played his DS.  An uneventful trip.  Best kind, with that kid in tow.

We got a cab and got to the hotel around 3.  I love love love the Doubletree now.  They give you free cookies at check-in, and they have Neutrogena stuff in the bathrooms, and we got this room where the bedroom is set off from a little office -- with a door. And a lock.  Yeah.   And it's got this crazy lobby that looks like it was designed by Yul Ulu.  (And I can't find any links for that, either, so if you don't know, email and I'll explain.) Unfortunately, I didn't take photos, and can't find any to link to, but imagine lots of skylights, chairs with no arms, and suspended sculptures of glass globs strung on wires. 

So after we got cleaned up a bit, we headed out.  Since I knew Delmonico's was out, and adventures in strange food was out, and I couldn't stand the idea of eating at an effing Fridays or Ruby Tuesday's in Manhattan, I rifled through the hotel tour book for "American fare" and stumbled over the "best burger in New York" entry -- apparently served eight blocks away in the lobby of the Le Parker Meridien Hotel. Finding the hotel was easy.  Finding the joint ... well, see for yourself. This is the only indicator where the place is:

I think the book may have been right. The burgers were excellent. The fries were great. The milkshake was well received by all. We should have bought at least one more.

After dinner, we wandered around a bit, and took the YP to his happiest place on Earth, the M&M store.

And on the way out of there, we bumped into Spiderman.  The YP was delighted to get his autograph.

Then we went to the show, and were surprised to learn we were in the first row.  The YP was alternately very excited at being so close, disturbed by not being able to see, and put out at the amount of dry ice smoke blowing on him.

He was also rather vocal.  He howled out when Oliver Platt came onstage. "That is NOT Frank Sinatra!"  Oy.  Then he turned to us. "WHERE is Frank Sinatra?"  I'd been bashing him to shut up for at least 3 minutes already, so he turns to NYAB, who says, bluntly, "HE IS DEAD."   The YP looks a bit stricken and settles down. 

Same thing when Lauren Graham came on.  "But where is Faith Prince?"  "YP, we told you that the woman from Gilmore Girls was doing this." "Huh." 

Finally, some theater staffer came down and hissed at NYAB that people backstage could hear the kid.   At intermission, NYAB explained we were in danger of being kicked out, and I told the kid that I was going to cry if he embarrassed me again.  Not sure which piece worked, but he was virtually silent the entire second act. No more front row for us for a while, I think.

After the show, some cast members were shilling for AIDS funding, and the YP was astounded when he gave money to the woman holding the bucket.  "She was on stage!! I saw her on stage!"
Yah, and she doubtless heard him, apparently.  But she was very nice to him and seemed enthusiastic back at him.  So that was nice.

Headed back to the hotel and crashed around midnight. 

Got up in the morning and headed down to the restaurant for breakfast.  I'm not sure if I was tired and cranky or the waitstaff was, but that was a little rocky.  We looked at the menu waiting to be seated and settled on our orders -- pancakes for me, waffles for the kid, and French toast for NYAB. We sat at the table.  The waiter came, and said, "Are you having the buffet?"  "No, but ..." by which time he had huffed off to get us menus.  He returns with them and I say, "Thanks, but we already know ...." and he'd already huffed off again.  Then he came back and said, "So, no buffet?" I said, "No. I will have pancakes, and the kid will have waffles, and ... " and he interrupts me and says, "Why don't you just get the buffet? The boy eats free."  Jeezopete. 

Well, after being urged three times, I huffed up and said, "Fine! Buffet it clearly is, since that is the only way we will ever get any food here."  Grrr.  Stomped into the buffet.  Saw no pancakes, or french toast, or waffles.  NYAB took a half-pound of bacon and a banana.  The YP ate Frosted Flakes.  I found some meh scrambled eggs and bacon and had that.  I wish I had thought sooner to  just take the waiter's head off while we were trying to order and just said, "No. We do not want the buffet. But we would like a waiter who will do what we ask. Can you arrange that???"  Bleah.

The waiter wandered by to see if we wanted drinks. "No, thank you," I gritted. "Really? No coffee?"  I look him in the eye, apparently with an OMGWTF look, and said, "No! Thank! You!" 

I finished eating before the YP and couldn't stand being there waiting for the check, so I went back upstairs to finish packing.  NYAB came up later and said they only charged us for one breakfast, so apparently my displeasure was registered and responded to.  Which made me feel better. 

After breakfast, cab back to train station.  Train back to DC, sitting next to Gwen Ifill.  Cab back to office. Car back home -- with a stop off for Little League practice.  So far, the YP appears as engaged with baseball as last time, which means either he will die when he gets hit in the head with a ball or I will die of an aneurysm wishing he'd stop playing in the dirt.

But hey, we've got the Whole Week Off. (Sort of. Except for me working half-shifts at 5 a.m. and a full day in the office Tuesday.) We can work on skills and focus.  Right? Right.

This Is My Kid, Y'all...

Ain't he a looker, even with that odd foliage backdrop?  It's funny how much he looks like me in this photo, cos in real life he looks like NYAB.  (You can click to make it bigger.)

Tabula Rasa

I hope all y'all had very safe and happy new year's celebrations. Ours was pleasant and low-key, catching up on the latest exploits of a friend we see all too infrequently, and mocking ABC's attempt to ring in the new year. Seriously, Dick Clark needs to just ... stop.  It'd probably be fine if he just smiled and waved, but let's not make make the poor man talk. 

Speaking of traditions that need to be retired ... is anyone else delighted that these are going the way of the dodo?

Seven Middling Rain-Deer

A damp, miserable day, and more effin' deer in my front yard. One short of a sleigh pack.

Oh, well, at least they ate all my trees last year and there was nothing they could destroy this year...

As Promised

So, here is what my hair looked like the night before I got it cut. I would have preferred a better pose, but this is what I had -- I inherited a camera from last month's Unfortunate Incident, and that's what I'm fiddling with here:

And this is how I looked when I got home from work yesterday, after a long day, administering a short punishment for school misbehavior, and right before I went to bake another 3 dozen cookies:

Posed, it looks pretty good. In my natural state, I'm not sure how well it complements my doublechin.  But I will say this -- it's a damn sight easier getting ready for work at 3:30 a.m.

Now, for the way cooler story.  On Monday afternoon, I had a bunch of things to get done. Busy, busy, busy.  Pick up the cat from the kennel. Get an oil change. Pick up the kid at the bus. Run some errands. Get dinner. Bake cookies. La, la, la.

Well, I got the cat and decided not to risk missing the schoolbus by tempting fate at Jiffy Lube. Instead, I headed home to put the cat away, pick up the kid and then head out again.

Good thing.

When I pulled into our driveway, I saw a big billowy cloud of smoke.  "Wow," I thought. "Is someone's house on fire?" Then I saw a blaze in my neighbor's back yard.  A bunch of railroad ties and some leaves were cheerily crackling.  "Heh. Good for them," I thought. "I know they've been complaining about those ties forever. Stupid Prince William County fire laws.  Jeez, the smoke is kinda thick, though.  And why didn't they tell me they were gonna do this, so I could have added my brush to the pile?" 

Then I look over at their driveway and see ... no cars.  So ... nobody's home? Why would they set a fire and then just bail? That's kind of dumb.

By this time I've parked my car and have dialed my neighbor's work number on my cellphone.

"XXX Company, may I help you?"
"Hey, girlfriend, did you know your back yard is on fire?"
"WHAT!?!"
"OK, I'll take that as a no.  I'll call the fire department, then."
"CALL 911!!!"
"Yup. On it now."

So I called the fire department, and pulled my hose over to attach to the spigot at the back of her house, closest to the fire -- except they'd turned off their outside water for the winter.  Heh. Luckily, the cavalry came in about 5 minutes.

Meanwhile the neighbors behind us came out to investigate. The husband said, "That tree's gonna burn down," and after hearing I'd called for extinguishing, went back to his house. The wife barely left the edge of their driveway and just looked at the fire like it was absolutely the rudest most inconsiderate thing she had ever seen, and then they both went back inside.

The neighbor on the other side of the fire house came out and said, "Yeah, I walked out and saw that ... and I didn't think PW county allowed open fires ... I'm glad you got home and called!"

Of course, all that did was make me want to add my own giant piles of brush to the blaze That Much More.  I'm now sorely tempted to get a permit to have a big ol' bonfire of my own some time.

The neighbors from up the hill and across the street whistled down the firetruck and came down to survey the excitement.  From where they'd been, it just looked like someone's chimney was in serious need of cleaning. 

Then my neighbor got home and watched as the rest of the fire was put out. I guess she had dumped ashes from their woodburning stove, but the ashes hadn't quiiiiite cooled.  Add dead leaves, and poof!

All in all, the only disappointing thing was that the Young Prince missed all the excitement, and going to Jiffy Lube was no great thing after all that. And I was really, really mad that I didn't get my camera until after the fire was out.