Mar. 21, 2008 at 1:08am
The trip here sucked. It was a long first flight to Honolulu, and then a turbulent second flight to Maui. I get motion sick if I'm on a swing, don't put me on a plane, and for the love of a dog, don't put me on the ass-end of a dark plane encountering the bumpy, nasty atmospheric equivalent to bad gas.
And yet, there I was. And then, at last, there we were, in front of the airport, my mother in law-ish-sort-of-person and I, awaiting our prince (her son, my mate of 12 years) for over an hour. His longboard wouldn't fit on any shuttles, and he stoically refused to leave his best girl at home. I was air-sick-y grumpy, tired from four hours of sleep thanks to pre-trip jitters, and hungry.
The bitchy grumpfest didn't last too long, because eventually he arrived in our rental, we found the van we were supposed to drive here (yeah, bitch fest started because Man rented car, we had van given to us by family member for two days, if we could pick it up at the airport. So all this waiting stuff was redundant, and pissifying.) and then his mom fed me. Then, we arrived at our 1.5 million dollar free home for two days. (yeah, it's the cheap house on the gated block.) --Holy cowcrap, batman, I'm in heaven.
Kihei is amazing and even semi-Tacoma -like. It's managed to develop itself to obscenity with a sense of its roots. Unlike Ka'anipali, where we stayed last time we came here, Kihei maintains a good portion of public space amongst development. Ka'anipali is all resort-access beaches and a sense of "No Locals" -ish-ness, where I've seen a good locals-only contingent happening in Kihei. Though, well, hell, there's no surf here, so I suppose it's a bit like confining tribes to barren lands........ But I digress.
Tonight The Man and I left his mom with The Kid, so that we may drink a Mai Tai and get him a hat (he inadvertently left his woobie-hat on the roof of the rental vehicle, as we left the public beach after our morning run) --and as we sat in a Jersey-Italian styled restaurant sipping Mai-Tais listening to the Swiss people converse next to us while watching bodies bob up and over the half pipe in the skate park "Badda Bing" (our restaurant) overlooked, and looking beyond all of that to the big, blue ocean, I couldn't help feeling that surrealistic sense of belonging that I sometimes get in Tacoma.
Tacoma follows me, after all, wherever I go.
musing her way through arts, culture, dining, shopping, exercising, and parenting, all while wearing a pungent, truffle-like aroma.