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Sunday, January 27, 2008


I miss Hawaii. The food. The beaches. The weather. The lomi lomi massages. The BOYS. Sure, I can eat kalua pig and spam musubi at any one of the L&L joints in San Diego. And sure, I can pick up entire loaves of taro bread at any of the Asian supermarkets in San Diego. And sure, I can go to any beach I want in San Diego. And fine, the weather is pretty much the same in San Diego most of the year. But do we have Hawaiian boys over here? Maybe. But it’s not the same. The more I travel out of San Diego, the more I’m convinced I’ve exhausted my stay here. They closed my favorite dive bar earlier this month, and if that’s not a sign that I should get out of here, I don’t know what is. Hawaii is so laid back. I consider San Diego pretty laid back. At least more laid back than LA or NYC. But Hawaii is ridiculously laid back. Like telling us to meet in front of the hotel at nine in the morning to be driven to the moped rental store and us showing up ten minutes early and waiting twenty five minutes for someone to arrive kind of laid back. And I like to consider myself a laid back, no worries kind of girl. Even when we were transferring boats to go from jet skiing to parasailing, we were hurrying to take our life jackets off and cross over and the HOT! parasailing instructor said, “There’s no rush, darlin’… This is Hawaii.” That was probably the exact moment I decided I wanted to marry that man stay there forever. Yet here I am… blogging from the Valley. Hawaii was just so amazing. I plan to revisit again and again in this lifetime. My vacation couldn’t have been any more perfect. I miss the girls already. I miss trying to sleep through their symphony of snoring (okay, maybe they miss trying to sleep through my snoring). I miss waking up to Shi singing “Morning’s here.” I miss Chel sticking her fish eye camera in my face. I can’t wait till our next trip together. Until then, it’s back to the real world! Boo whore.

The real world ain’t so bad, though… Since I’ve been back, I’ve received an unexpected promotion at my second job where I’ve been a graphic design intern for the past couple of months. All of a sudden, I found myself putting my two weeks in at AAA. I’m sad to be leaving, but I just can’t pass this promotion up! Starting next month, I’ll have nights and weekends off. I won’t know what to do with myself. I suppose I could go to the gym and lose all that weight I planned to lose BEFORE going to Hawaii. And all that weight I gained while I was IN Hawaii. Or I could just have more time to blog about how much I want to lose weight while snacking on these chocolate covered macadamia nuts I brought home from Hawaii…

Brazilian Birthday.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008

So my birthday kicks off this weekend followed by a week in Hawaii with the girls. In preparation, I’ve exercised twice a day drank several Coldbusters to make sure this cold I got over New Years doesn’t ruin my vacation. I’ve also made my pearly whites more pearly, gotten my eyebrows waxed, made an appointment for a pedicure… You know, normal girly things that girls do to make them feel nice (and make boys notice their niceness)… The rest of the girls I’m going to Hawaii with all 1up’d me and gave up carbs and exercised daily and oh, did I mention they all got motherfucking BRAZILIANS! What’s a brazilian, you ask? No, it’s not Tom Brady’s ladyfriend. Let me spell it out for you… It’s P-A-I-N. I popped a vicodin or two (or five) to ease the peroxide-induced pain of teeth whitening. I’m exaggerating zero percent. What would it take for me to numb the pain of waxing where the sun don’t shine? A fucking qualude? That’s a level of sexy I’m not ready for. Most (if not all) of my girl friends are in a relationship. Including my one lesbian friend. I’ve found that as a single girl you can go in one of two directions… You can either wax your nether regions, wear makeup just to get the mail outside and follow a strict diet to a better skinnier you. OR you can take advantage of the fact that nobody sees your legs anymore and let a day or two go by without shaving, eat all the carbs you want because sandwiches make you happier than any man ever could, and forgo the expensive perfume you used to wear for a cheaper bar of Ivory soap. I’ve elected to go the latter since my break up almost two years ago (has it really been that long?). Maybe I’ll reconsider becoming that hairless waif when I don’t enjoy having my bed all to myself anymore.

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