"We offer you this Snickers."

Work has been physically brutal the last few weeks. If I get home while the sun is up, I try to go for a run. I love passing all the drunk golfers on their way home, and smelling early barbeque in the neighborhood back yards. If I get home after the sun has set, I am done for. I usually eat, shower, read, internet, or tv, then in bed by 10pm. Last night I was on the tv portion of the night was there was a tapping on my door. I know exactly who it was; Naia, the girl who stays with her dad next door on the weekend. Dad has been over a couple of times to chat about raising a teenager, and while I don't mind at all, at the literal end of the day, I like a little privacy. Last time I gave him a stack of fashion magazines to give her. Could be a controversial move but the poor thing is struggling.

I lowered the volume of my new favorite show, and didn't move a muscle. These walls are thin. I hear the guy next door blow his nose. I knew that she knew that I was home. She knocked five different times, each to a count of three. Oh boy... this little girl is... special. Maybe not officially, but socially, most definitely. Jason ran into her when he was helping me move in, and said, "Excuse me." Her answer was, "You're excused."

She comes to see me as a client at the spa. I didn't realize she was the girl next door until Tsunami Saturday, when she brought me over a surprise Krispy Kreme.

This morning I found the following affixed to my door, complete with a mini Snickers bar:



First of all, why are they trying to fatten me up? Second, whose number is that, because dad better not be using his daughter to get me to call? Third, THAT IS SO KAUAI. Seriously.

The coconut wireless. Last week my boss heard about my key-losing adventures via that exact medium. Sometimes it's great, like the time I lost my drivers license and someone found it, recognized me, and returned it to the hotel in under an hour. Sometimes it's not great, like when the boss finds out that once again, you've managed to lose a vital possession running the bay on your day off. When you want this exact person to give you lots more responsibility, it's not a good thing.

So do I call? I'm going to call, but in the middle of the day, on a weekday, and pray for voicemail.

Aloha.

Tsunami Saturday left-overs

I just selected my profile picture and after glancing through the past year on iPhoto, nothing quite sums up the past 6 months as a picture of me looking bedraggled, confused, and in an obviously Kauai setting. I'm like the big, red, haole giant of the north shore, trying to fit in and yet still hold on to some semblance of the city girl I was 6 months ago.

We had a tsunami warning on Saturday and friends from Hanalei were evacuated and came and hung out with me in high and dry Princeville. They brought what food they could score from Foodland on their way over: Oreos, stoned wheat thins, brie, bourbon, and radishes. On their departure they took all the good stuff and left me with the radishes.

Radishes?

So tonight I lopped off the little radish balls and made soup with the greens.

Aloha.