things and things, Hawaiian radio and my haunted condo

Interesting times on the road.

I think I might have opened up some other blog with that same line...I'm not sure. I often think that...that line...not that I opened up another blog with the same line.

What?

Dear Hawaiian Airlines,

I love that you still have free movies and free meals. I love that even on my 15-minute-in-the-air inter-island flights, you give me juice, and even though it's only 12% juice, I still love it. I'll have two, actually. I also love how nice your employees are. Seriously nice--and I don't think they're talking about me behind my back when they leave the aisle. But really...REALLY...Hawaiian airlines...I can't handle the fees. Your tickets aren't cheap in the first place, but then to pay $15 for the first, $25 for the second bag from the mainland, then $17 from island to island, and $25 for overweight bags (p.s. the weight limit changes from mainland and inter-island--not fair), then $150 for any ticket change...you're killing me softly. I'm pretty sure I could have purchased another full ticket with what I paid in fees on this trip. And all I want to do is leave a day early...I'm so willing to pay the difference in ticket cost...but the change fees alone for my flight back to Honolulu, then to SD, is $175. That's unreal. Literally. I don't pay that much for a round trip ticket to Las Vegas.

And, consequently, Las Vegas is way more fun that the Big Island. Like, 100 times more fun. Maybe more.

In conclusion, I cannot love you, Hawaiian Airlines, because I hate you. And I cannot hate you, because...you get it.

I would just like to go home please.

Mahalo (they love that),

Shannon

Unrelated--I'm at Starbucks, and a girl just rang up for $13.49. She doesn't have any ground or bean coffee. What the hell can you order at Starbucks to total that much? "Hi, I'll have two large frappucinos. You know what? Let's make it three. With 20 pumps of hazelnut."

So, interesting times on the road. I've been driving a lot (surprisingly--the islands are not big), and my first rental car didn't have one of those little pluggers where you get to listen to your iPod, so I was stuck with the radio. Hawaiian radio is not good...no question. I listened to a lot of NPR. But I really, really, really love to sing in the car, so on Oahu, I resorted to listening to my iPod, earphones in, and singing. Even I realized that this was reeedic, so, also for my own amusement, decided to record myself singing to music no one else could hear, then listen back to myself singing along to nothing. Can't lie to you, I was laughing a lot about this. At myself. Singing. Now I know what some select few passengers experience when I get going. Sorry, by the way, to you guys. I did that for a while, left some people some singing messages, then went back to NPR.

Second rental car had a plug, so I listened to my iPod with much joy until it died, then I listened to the torrential rain that almost led to my death on the road (several times). Worst storm in four years? Sign me up. My hotel didn't have power when I checked in, or phones for that whole day.

Did I already tell you that? Sorry. Bad news when I'm repeating stories in a blog. I need human interaction so bad right now. I went to Costco with a youth pastor today. More on that later.

It wasn't until rental car four that I realized that I left my cord in rental car two. This has happened twice now, and oddly enough, no one at the rental place ever has record of someone turning in a cord. Assholes. They're like $10 at Target!! Stop stealing from me!! So I'm back to singing to myself through headphones. I did mess up one ear of the headphone with too much volume, I think...it rattles a little now. Oops. And I'm also back to NPR. I do love it, but I am at the point that I'm re-hearing stories about racial tension between Italians and Latinos on Long Island...so...so that's when I play the radio scan game. It's of my own invention, there are rules, and they're complicated. No one since three boyfriends ago will play it with me. But I got 21 points today.

I also talked to Chip for like an hour today. Remember Chip? I sure miss that guy. He was the perfect audience for my latest Naz church visit, which is a story best told in person. Or via voicemail, I'm told. Eric, are you reading this? Thanks for sharing that in staff meeting.

In my radio scans, I have been stuck on Hawaiian music from time to time. I have learned one major thing about Hawaiian music: a lot of it is non-Hawaiian music, re-recorded to sound islandy. I've heard Elvis, church hymns, Jason Mraz, Tina Turner...basically every style of music redone Hawaiian style. It's not good. But I did catch one real gem--a Hawaiian rapper. No lie, the rap started with "Yo yo...it about time dat we bring some jamz from da 808...uh-LOW-hah!" Unreal.

Finally: I am staying at the weirdest place ever.

I booked this place on Expedia and got a pretty good rate, which is always a key sign of danger. I have never, ever been pleasantly surprised by some random place I booked on Expedia. Am I the only one? Although I think if I were a--not alone, b--not at the end of like 5 million weeks out, c--on another, cooler island, and d--in a different state of mind, this place could have been cool. Maybe. Except I'm convinced I may be killed in my sleep tonight.

I'm pretty sure that only girls will understand this. Lucky for me, I am pretty sure that only girls read this. In fact, it may only be Mindy (see comments on every post...xoxo MVega!).

So anyway, I landed on the Big Island last evening, got my car, and put my hotel address in el GPS, and it's 45 minutes away. At this point, I just wanted to be home, so this was annoying to me. Even more annoying--the airport is surrounded my like 30 miles of just lava. Black, ugly lava. It's not cool or pretty. I hate the lava. And people take some white rocks from somewhere and write their names and things like "just engaged!!!!!!" and "aloha!!!!!!!" in the rocks, and it looks like graffiti, and I hated that too. I also passed a man on a recumbent bike, and hated the bike and him also. So my hotel is in the middle of nowhere, really...no shops or town or anything on my way there. It's also made up of many buildings, and is very spread out, which was, again, annoying. So I found the check-in place in some building in the middle. While checking in, I was going through the drill, initialing here, signing there, making up a license plate number for the rental car, the girl threw in this: "Would you prefer skim, 2% of whole milk?"

What??

So I told her that I preferred skim.

From there, she took my fruit juice preference (guava), my bread preference (wheat) and if I preferred butter or margarine (butter...unless I'm baking...then marg all the way. I didn't tell her that last part).

I think that, after 5 million weeks of alone time and personal reflection, that one of the reasons I get into so many crazy situations is because I HATE being out of the loop...so often, when I am, I just pretend like I know what's going on to see where the situation goes. This is often a mistake. Why not just ask what's going on?? I don't know. I just don't do it.

So girl was talking like I should know why she was asking me all these questions, and I went along with it, and she said "Alright, these items, a dozen eggs, and half a pound of bacon will be delivered to your condo tomorrow morning at nine."

What to my what?

But I didn't ask that. I just fake smiled and said "Great."

I don't even understand what she's talking about at this point, but I know that I will eat a total of none of that. I leave every morning I'm there before 8...I am not going to get up early for some 6 a.m. bacon and eggs with butter on wheat.

Then she gave me a map to my room (another thing I hate--if I need a map to get there, it's too far. I don't want to stay at places that need maps.) and I went back to my car to drive to building B.

Oh yeah, she also asked me if I minded being on the second floor. I said no, but I wanted to say yes. I hate dragging luggage up stairs! But I felt like saying yes would put her out in some form, so I said no. I am an idiot--who thinks those things?

So I drove to building B, dragged my overweight suitcase (according to Hawaiian Air...jerks) upstairs and unlocked my door to a condo that's bigger than my house.

At this point, anything other than what I expect is disaster, so my exact thought was: "What is this Iiiiiii hhhaattteee iiiittttttttttt!!!!!!!"

I am definitely not a tantrum thrower, but I did have a moment. I was just tired, and tired of not being home. I was over it quick. :) And I didn't throw one thing.

So I walked into a full kitchen with dinner settings for six, nicer knives than I have at home and a dishwasher, a dining room with seating for six, a living room, a full balcony/patio, a small door under the stairs, and don't worry--that was downstairs. Upstairs, there was a master bedroom, a bathroom and three locked doors. Awesome. Oh wait--it would have been awesome, if I had five friends with me. Maybe.

There is no better way to remind oneself that one is traveling alone than to walk into a dining room for six.

And I'm a great alone traveller...for two or three weeks. On week five million, I'm over it.

Sidenote--I'm SO over being on my own that I had lunch with a youth pastor today (who I met for 5 days at camp this summer), then went with her on her errands, including going to Costco, purchasing two large hams, and picking up her son from school.

So in order to feel at all at home (home being "in a hotel room," right now), I immediately went upstairs, grabbed two pillows and a blanket, went back downstairs and set up camp on the couch in the living room. My suitcase is on the coffee table, I brushed my teeth in the kitchen sink...I'm pretending like I don't even have an upstairs.

Also, there are three locked rooms, and I'm pre-he-hetty sure that some sort of criminal or Sloth from Goonies is living up there, just waiting for me to settle into the master bedroom.

Also, there are no restaurants nearby my creepy condo hotel, so I had to go to a grocery last night and bought the necessary items to make turkey tacos.

I made turkey tacos alone in my condo in Kona last night. After that, I loaded the dishwasher and went to sleep on the couch.

Get.me.out.of.here!!!!

I made a video of it (why do I feel like a grandma for saying that??), so once I figure out how to post videos...you can experience it for yourselves.

And there is no internet of any kind...ergo embarking on hour two at Starbucks (and that's just this visit--doesn't count my hour earlier in between visits).

I left this morning at 7 and haven't been back yet. Partially because it's boring...partially because I know someone dropped off a half pound of bacon there this morning.