cindy's world

(as with all my photos, rest mouse pointer over picture for caption.)

Vicky called me earlier in the evening and asked what I’d been doing all night. I told her that I’m in the middle of a ton of stuff, irrate that so little of the tasks I had at hand were done.
Vicky: Like what?
Me: I have a week’s worth of mail I was going through, and partway through I saw a letter from Citibank telling me they were gonna change my account unless I called this number, and my phone downstairs doesn’t work so I went upstairs to call, and while I was up there I saw my luggage I still had to unpack so I started doing that, and half the stuff was still damp from the humidity in Hawaii so I’m rewashing everything. And then halfway through that, I realized I had to take some stuff downstairs I’d need tomorrow so I came down, and saw that my mail’s still unfinished so I sat down to do that, and then Dwaine called so I was talking to him, and then Andy called so I talked to him, and then I decided to eat a little something so I turned on the TV and now I’m watching that for some reason, and then you called so I’m talking to you. Nothing’s done!
Vicky: So life’s pretty good, huh?
Me: [pause] Yeah. Life’s real good. I’m all tan from Hawaii and I have the luxury to do my chores really slowly, and I got to talk to my friends who called to say hi.

I’m pretty happy, despite the fact that I’d called Josh around 7pm (5pm Hawaii time) to ask what they were doing. He said they’d just gotten back from a hike where they saw waterfalls, they were waiting around about to go out for dinner, and then they thought they’d go hang out in the hotel’s hot tub afterwards. “I’m so jealous! Work here sucks!” I wailed. He said, “Yeah, I’m sorry, we wish you were here, too.” And then I heard everyone in the background of his phone telling me hi. But even work wasn’t too bad. We started a criminal trial today, but that didn’t come until after lunch, and during lunch, I met up with Mr. W and we napped off our jet lag exhaustion in his portable hammock, set up in the shade of a building on a private rooftop. After work and starving, having last eaten at lunchtime before my flight back Sunday, I hit up Vons and filled up a grocery basket with a tub of cashews, 2 packs of honey twist pretzels, Fuji apples, variety of yogurt, loaf of sprout grain bread, spicy jack and baby Swiss cheese, eggs, canned corn and margarine. $30 with a Vons Club card! I should grocery shop more often than my two or three times a year. They say to never shop when you’re hungry, and it’s a good thing I limited myself to one handheld basket, or I would’ve added ice cream, powdered hot chocolate, cereal, milk, chips, and cookies to the mix. I ended up eating a couple handfuls of cashews, some honey twist pretzels, yogurt , a slice of each type of cheese and 2 apples for dinner. That pretty much hit all the food groups, and was faster than what I’d planned to have but was too hungry to wait for — creamed corn egg drop soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. And I did manage to unpack, catch up my checkbook to all the debit card purchases I made in Hawaii, get through all my mail, and spend quality time with some friends on the phone. I also spent quality time with the Doey boy (who’s asleep upstairs on my bedroom floor right now, curled up in a cookies n’ cream colored ball) and changed out an ugly wall switch plate for a prettier mosaic one.

What a frazzled, aimless post. My point is that recognizing my small increments of successes brings me a sense of accomplishment and happiness that I’m glad I didn’t let pass by unnoticed.

Mr. W and I spent a lot of time wandering along Waikiki beach and its shops and tourist areas on foot while waiting for the class to arrive (we got there Saturday and the class got there Thursday). One afternoon we went into a Wolfgang Puck Express to order lunch to eat outside in the patio area and enjoy the street scene (facing the beach). While in line, I noticed a 50-ish homeless-looking black man when he entered and greeted another homeless-looking white man heartily. The two sat and chatted with each other as they ate. The first man was in amazing spirits singing along with the radio playing in the restaurant — I think it was some 70s R&B song, practically dancing as he emptied his trash from the food tray into the trash can. He then waltzed back to the table and wiped off his crumbs and emptied that in the trash, too. Mr. W and I, upon receiving our food, took it outside and nibbled at a sidewalk table. I fed a pigeon and was instantly surrounded by other shamelessly begging birds. Minutes later, the two homeless men walked out, strolled by us and the black man turned and said to us, “Success is great even [he held up his index finger professor-style] in small increments, ya know what I mean?” He finished his statement with a wink and I smiled at him. He hummed and walked off into the sunshine.

“Why’d he look at me when he said that?” Mr. W asked.

Earliest vacation memory of this trip: Walking down the temporary ramp linking airport to the plane to board for Hawaii on Saturday morning, there was a sign posted about 7 feet up the wall inside the tunnel ramp thing. I looked up to read the sign and consequently, tripped. The sign said “Caution: Step carefully when inside the JetBridge. Floor surface is uneven.”
Weather in Oahu: Saturday through Tuesday was sunny with the occasional rain drizzle. Wednesday and Thursday poured so much that it caused mudslides, one of which trapped an SUV and caused the closure of a major freeway. Friday, Saturday and Sunday were beautiful, sunny, and humid. Surf conditions were pretty rough, altho there were beautiful aquamarine barrel waves in the northeastern part of the island, and surf contests were in full swing. Snorkeling conditions were poor as the rain and rough waves churned up enough sand to cause uncharacteristic murkiness of the waters for this time of year. The water, however, was usually a comfortable high 70s Fahrenheit.
Most noticeable difference between Oahu locals and California locals: the driving. Hawaiians don’t cut you off, don’t tailgate you, and when you signal, they wave you in. When you let someone in your lane, they wave in gratitude. I do that here, but it generally goes unacknowledged, and when the occasional driver waves his thanks, it nearly moves me to tears. (An example of Californians: The week before I left for Hawaii, I was signaling for minutes to go into a lane to my right the freeway in stop-and-go traffic, and finally a big cargo truck backed off and let me in. I waved my thanks, and still signaling, started my merge into his lane. Suddenly, this stupid white trashy Corolla came out from the other side of the truck and stole my lane, nearly side-swiping my car, never signaling, and I honked to keep her from hitting my car. In front of me, she flipped me off. WTF, you stole my lane, nearly hit my car, cut me off, and then you flip me off?! I honked again. She flipped me off again as she changed another lane to the left. I SO wished I had something to throw at the bitch.)
Bonding quality: Extremely high with my jujitsu buddies. We laughed and joked and hung out and battled each other. I didn’t know some of my classmates were so damn funny. Several comments had hit my funny bone and even now I chuckle as I think of them. I’d write about them, but they’re those you-had-to-be-there things. Some of my favorite people in the world were on that island.
Celeb sighting: Wally Amos of Famous Amos Cookies. He didn’t even identify himself to us! We walked by a cookie shop called Chip n Cookie that looked really good, and there were 2 guys standing behind the counter but the sign said “Closed.” We figured they were still setting up to open. But they waved us in, and we told them their sign said closed and Wally said, “No wonder we were standing in here with the door wide open and nobody was coming in! You guys must be readers!” We chatted awhile, Wally directed the younger guy to give us free samples, and Wally popped a few of the little cookies in his mouth as he was taking them out of the oven. I asked how he stays so fit working so close to cookies, and he said, “A lifetime of the cookie diet.” He also told us you can buy their cookie dough from Costco now. I told them how my high school economics class showed a video of the Famous Amos success story, and they pointed out Amos’ book. And then we left. Later on in the hotel room, a children’s program came on TV, Reading with Wally Amos. And it was him!! I had seen the “reading with your children” sign at the back of the shop, too!
Injury count: various bruises from a 7-hour long martial arts clinic day; tweaked neck that’s getting better; 5 hugely swollen and itchy, rashy mosquito bites obtained from the Polynesian Culture Center; no sunburn! (altho a distinctive attractive flip flop strap tan and a bikini tan)
Photos: forthcoming.
What I learned: people can be really nice; friends can feel like your family; coconuts are really hard; Mr. W is a romantic gentleman; it takes a 4-year-old boy 17 minutes to break open a ceremonial coconut with a rock; a rolled up magazine can break cement bricks; pineapples are expensive; hotel guest parking is a rip-off ($15/day); Tahitian pearls are ridiculously cheap with vendors; swap meet style vendors don’t bargain as much as you think they would; marijuana smells like rotting vegetables in a dumpster (and I would know about the dumpster smell); sand finds and hides in every crevice on your body imaginable, even if that part of your body never made contact with any sandy surface.
Time of return to home: 3 a.m. this morning
Current location: work, feeling funny in heels instead of flip flops. *sigh*
How I feel now: rested re-energized pooped.

Mr. W spontaneously got the day off today, so he came by my house after he left work, helped me pack, and then I fed, watered, brushed, de-earwaxed Dodo, and we came back to his house to get him packed. Here’s the good news:

I asked him if he’s bringing his laptop, and he said yes. There may not be an internet connection, but he said something about just going out and finding a kiosk or something for looking up things to do in the area or restaurants to eat at. He said if there’s internet available at the hotel for a price, we’d just pay for it so he could use his laptop.

That means I can still read your blogs! Yay! (What? You want me to write blog posts while I’m in Hawaii? I’m on vacation!)

He’s already purchased VIP seating tickets for a Cirque Hawaii show tomorrow night.

Here’s a reminder in case I can’t post this weekend: FALL BACK AN HOUR ON SUNDAY!! It’s not gonna do me that much good, tho, cuz we lose a couple of hours in the Hawaii time zone anyway. Hawaii also does not observe daylight savings time, so on Sunday, we’ll be 3 hours behind. Eh, it doesn’t matter. I’m on vacay; I can sleep till I wanna get up.

Worked out at the gym, washed the car(s), had some rare Ahi tuna tataki salad at Cheesecake Factory, went to jujitsu, ran a mile.

Sounds simple, huh? It wasn’t. Instead of doing a nice-and-easy, go-at-your-own-pace couple of miles like the four of us did last week, Josh and Gerardo came up with the brilliant idea of running a mile as fast as we could and seeing what our times are. Since I was the only one with a watch, I did the countdown and we started at exactly 9:45p. At an outdoors track in 58-degree weather (I know the temperature because my car said so), the brisk air cut into all of our lungs. Josh was spitting bloody phlegm afterwards, my lungs still hurt upon expansion right now such that it forces a little feminine bong-smoker sounding cough out of me when I inhale sharply, Jackie was wheezing, and Gerardo…well, he was just fine. In fact, he came in first at about 7 1/2 minutes; I came in second at 8:05; Josh was 2 seconds behind me; and Jackie did pretty well at exactly 9 1/2 minutes. While the rest of us were walking off our misery, cramps and phlegm balls, Gerardo went and did some pull-ups as if gravity didn’t apply to him. “Gravity actually helps him,” Jackie remarked bitterly. “It somehow propels him upwards.” Gerardo is apparently superman who needs to push himself down to keep his feet on earth. And then we found out when he was a teenager, he used to do some gymnast stuff. =P I knew I couldn’t compete with him in grappling, boxing, jujitsu, or running, but apparently I can’t out-double-back-flip him off parallel bars, either. If he weren’t so nice, funny and supportive, I’d hate him. Or if he were female, I’d hate him.

I’m just kidding. Cuz he’d make too ugly of a female to incite hatred in me.

I’m just kidding. He has beautiful features. In fact, I’m gonna get him drunk in Hawaii, put makeup on him and take some photos.

I’m just kidding. Well, maybe.

I actually had a productive day already! I still didn’t pack, but I figure I’ll save that for Friday.

This morning, I got to sleep in like I always wished I could on work days (hitting the snooze button for an hour straight), then I got up, showered, spot-cleaned my carpet (Oxy-Clean is freaking amazing!), vacuumed both floors, did the dishes, cleaned the cat area, changed Dodo’s litter box, fed him, swept my garage floor, sucked up spider webs from my vertical blinds and walls (I KNOW, I need to clean more, shut up), and then, at 11:20p, I went to Vons and got the perfect Pooh balloon to tie to the tiny baby Pooh for my coworker’s baby shower. Then I got to the courthouse at 11:40, just in time to hand over my house keys to my coworker, whom I ran into in the parking structure, who’s going to check in on Dodo while I’m gone next week. Whew! And it’s only 2:38!

Oh yeah, the baby shower was cute. It’s like some huge infant puked baby blue fluffy stuff all over the Judge’s Lounge. (Say that three times fast!)

Now I’m at James’s house, where I hope to manipulate him into helping me wash my car or working out with me or getting drunk at a bar or SOMETHING, until 6:30 when I’m off to jujitsu. After jujitsu ends (about 9p), a bunch of us are going running on a nearby college track.

I’m feeling pretty good about my productivity this week. All I have left to do for tomorrow is pack. Which will probably be a huge disaster and I’ll forget something really important, like my ID or money or dive knife.

I reached a new low today.

Yesterday, a plastic bag containing a shirt, 2 pairs of microfiber chenille gloves and all my bills disappeared from my hands between the house and my car door. This is nothing new; I apparently cross some sort of time/space vortex and gym bags, socks, towels, water, stuff I want to bring to work, have all disappeared before between my leaving the house and getting into the car in the garage. I didn’t realize my bag of stuff was missing last nite until I was almost at my destination, so I traced my steps in my head. Let’s see, I had the bag when I walked out the house, and then I backed up and cleaned the cat litter, put that in a bag, and then I saw another bag of trash in the garage I’d meant to throw away. I also packed up a bag of trash from the track bucket next to my washing machine to throw that away, and I threw 3 bags into the dumpster down the driveway. *gasp* Did I throw the bag of bills and clothes away? Nah, I can’t be that absent-minded, it’s probably sitting on the dryer or next to the kitchen sink, like so many of my disappearing objects when I get back home.

Upon my arrival back home, I ran around checking all the usual spots. Atop the dryer, nope. Atop the kitchen counter, nope. On the dining room table, nope. Upstairs in my bedroom on the floor? Nope. A string of cuss words followed me in my head as I marched out the house again and toward the dumpster. Luckily, the trash hadn’t been collected yet. I actually don’t know which day of the week the garbage truck comes. I lifted the lid of the dumpster and tip-toed, peering inside. I had to hold my breath. There, right beneath some other people’s stinky black garbage bag, was the white bag I recognized, with the name of the clothing store I shopped at yesterday printed in big red letters. If I were tall, I could reach in and only touch that bag. But because I’m short, I had to hang my armpit over years’ worth of crusty gooey ant-gnawed grime on the perimeter of the dumpster and stretch way down to lift off a couple of bags before I could grab my bag. Sure enough, shirt, 2 pairs of really nice microfiber gloves, all my bills. There’s orange-brown goo on the outside of the bag, but thankfully I’d tied the bag closed. And yet, the sour acrid molecules of discards had crawled into the bag and settled into every item inside. The shirt and gloves are sitting out in the garage to air out; the bills are paid and thrown away. Blech!

Today:
fold and put away load of laundry from yesterday – check!
do remaining 2 loads of laundry – in progress, check!
pay bills – check!
dig inside neighborhood dumpster in broad daylight for goodies to take back inside the house – check!
mail out bills – to do
pack – to do
vacuum – to do
clean cat area – to do
60 mins of cardio – to do
belly dancing – to do
gym for weight-lifting – to do

Man, vacation is a lot of work. I may not even have time to clean out my closets.

Take 2 crazy girls, give them the day off, hand ’em each a laptop, stir, and you get this on IM:

Cindy: “Wow,” dodo says.
Jordan: hi Dodo… (scatch)
Cindy: “Dodo, Auntie Jordan says hi and she sends you a scratch! Yes she does, yes she does! Scritchy scratchy, you’re just a happy cat, aren’t you? Scratchy cat! Scratch cat!”
Jordan: *achoo*.. yep.. you’re my favorite Californian cat. *achoo*. Ok go play now. hehe
Cindy: you’re allergic to cats?!
Cindy: *looking at you differently*
Jordan: dude I said I need a hypoallergenic cat
Jordan: not ALL cats… just .. most of them
Cindy: any shaved cat is a hypoallergenic cat.
Jordan: well then.. shave dodo
Cindy: but then his cone would fall off.
Jordan: not if you duct tape it
Cindy: oh.
Jordan: kisses to dodo though.. mommy made me say it
Cindy: he’s ignoring you.

Well heck, at least it’s a productive day! I was up at 8:30, went to Kragen Auto Parts in search of more car care crap (I need to wash my car again cuz after I washed and Zainoed it on Saturday, the Spa place turned its sprinklers on my car on Sunday). I didn’t end up buying anything tho, cuz it looked like I’d have to spend like $50 on bucket/washmit/wipe cloth, plus another $50 on a hose. So instead I spent $45 on cat stuff at Petco and $65 on clothes I don’t need. But the good thing is, I have a whole new wardrobe for Hawaii. And right now laundry is going downstairs. I’m gonna vacuum the house today and go work out in the time it takes me to do 2 loads of laundry, hopefully.

This reminds me of the beginning of Jordan and my IMs today:
Jordan: I went to THREE doctor visits today… so I should blog about that
Jordan: since I’m lacking things to blog about
Cindy: I know, one indication that people are doing well is when their blogs get boring.
Jordan: either that or they’re leaving the good stuff out

Jordan’s most recent blog post is about a dream she had this past weekend; she dreamt she was on a plane flying with a male companion to Mexico on vacation. When she turned to look at her companion, turned out it’s her ex-husband. In the ensuing dream conversation, the ex looked at her as if she’s crazy when she asked how he knew about her trip. The ex said they’d booked the vacation together, that they live in New York together still, is she okay? Basically, the past 5 years of single life as Jordan knew it never happened. It was like a peep into “what if.”

Jordan’s post got my brains rolling in a familiar what-if scenario. Did you ever think that maybe THIS life is the illusion, and the reality is that you’re semi-conscious in some nursing home somewhere, in a pseudo-vegetative state, and every time you do something really cool in this reality, your alternate reality comatose self smiles and gives the nurses and family members hope that you may be getting better? Maybe you’re out in a wheelchair in some garden as the caretakers push you out to get some sun. When you’re inexplicably warm in this reality, it’s really cuz your physical wheelchair-bound body is in the sun too long. Maybe in this reality, you’re a 21 year old girl laughing whole-heartedly at some person you’re interested in at the bar, and in your comatose reality, your adult son just happened to kneel before you at the same time and talk to you, and you smile. Now your son is overjoyed, “I think she heard me! Mom! I saw you smile! Smile again!” You’ve seen people in asylums or nursing homes whose thoughts and attentions are obviously not with you. Where are they mentally?

Creepy, huh?

Been thinking about that since I was a kid. The problem with reality is that it’s so subjective.

I found 2 bruises on the elbow side of both my forearms last nite. I showed the 4 marks to Mr. W. At first he suggested they were bruises from my massage, and I said they can’t be, these are brown which means they’re at least a few days old. He said, “It looks like the marks you’d get from blocking techniques.” They are in the right positions for hard-blocks on kicks and maybe some hold breaks, but Thursday’s jujitsu class was a special clinic on boxing with a long-time pro boxer, and we did no blocks with our arms. Wednesday was belly dancing. I worked out all week long, but I couldn’t have banged the underside of my forearms weightlifting. “Maybe I have leukemia,” I murmured.

This morning, I realized what they are. They’re war wounds from my scaling the wall on Thursday night! Hwah!