Truth

I can hold my peace no longer.

Today I need to say something on my very public website for the whole world to see that may not make sense to everyone, but for those of us who travel a lot, and I mean a whole lot, it will have a very deep and profound meaning. And what I have to say is this; Airports suck ass.

Giant. Puckering. Infected. Ass.

Jell-O Shots

My apologies.

Have you ever gone about your entire day, doing all the normal things you normally do on a normal day, with the strange feeling that something was wrong? The feeling of general unease that leads you to check your pockets half a dozen times before you leave the house to make sure you won’t forget your wallet and keys? And then, just as the door closes behind you, you check once again, just in case you were mistaken the first six times?

And then realize you forgot your pants?

Well, all day I’ve been wandering the house in a sort of daze. Going from task to task in a fog trying to remember what it was that I was forgetting. I knew it was something important but for the life of me I couldn’t remember what it was.

Until, that is, 5 minutes ago while I was eating my Jell-O.

You see, I was sitting at the table, spooning superwonderously taste-tastic Jell-O into my mouth when something funny occurred on the TV and, while attempting to laugh and swallow the Jell-O at the same time, I accidentally choked and blew a chunk of Guava-Passion flavored Jell-O out of my nose and onto the table.

For those who keep score, my distance was a paltry 2 and a half feet.

As I sat there at the table, simultaneously laughing, coughing and thanking all manner of beings in the cosmos that HoBiscuit had fallen asleep on the couch and so had missed my latest failed attempt to make her a widow, I couldn’t help thinking what a great story my personal Jell-O Shot would make on my Blog. And that’s when I remembered what I had forgotten to do today and tried to simultaneously gasp in surprise, stand up and swallow the rest of the Jell-O in my mouth. And… so, now you know why the title of this post is Jell-O Shots.

Ow. I need a tissue.

The Valiant Valet

“And what are we doing today?”

This was asked by our valet as he held the car door open so HoBiscuit could get in to our rental car outside of our Hawaiian hotel. It was a polite question, said in a jovial and cordial tone, most likely to help us feel as if he truly cared in the hopes of us gifting him with a larger tip. He knew, and most guests knew, that his words were nothing but a thin, nearly transparent film of polite animosity, behind which he barely concealed his empty-eyed stare, bored stance and fake smile. But still, like the spawning salmon fighting its way upstream knowing that the end of its journey also meant the end of its very life, our intrepid valet continued to inquire the hotel guests about their health, daily activities and other small-talk niceties just to help pass the time during his terminally boring day.

All of this is just to say that what follows was not his fault.

You see, HoBiscuit and I were on our way to a grand adventure the type of which HoBiscuit had never partaken in before. There would be kayaking down rivers, tractor pulls through forests and farmland, rope bridges, zip-lines, waterfalls, cliff dives, hikes, swims, motor boating and all manner of other good, outdoorsy-type stuff that she had never even imagined she might do on a vacation getaway, let alone during a single seven-hour tour.

By which I mean to say that HoBiscuit was excited.

Some people, when they’re excited, show their excitement by becoming jittery and begin hopping from foot to foot. Some people smile and sweat until they resemble nothing so much as a frog with teeth and an upset stomach. Some people even develop a nervous little laugh when they are excited, sounding to the world like a hyena with the hiccups. But HoBiscuit had none of these afflictions. Instead, as with many, many other people on this earth, when she is excited and nervous, HoBiscuit becomes chatty. And loud.

And our poor valet had unknowingly opened the floodgates.

“We’re going on an adventure tour! It’s going to be sooooo great! We’re going to kayak down the river and then hike to a secluded waterfall where we’ll swing on a rope and jump in the river! Then we’re going to hike some more to a tractor that’s going to take us to another river where we’ll zip-line across and then cross back over on a swinging rope bridge! I think that’s crazy, especially since I’m scared of heights, but how many times do you get to zip-line across a river and cross a rope bridge?! I mean, I guess I’ll be scared, but I think I’ll do it anyway because it might be fun, too. You know? Oh! And then we’re going to hike to ANOTHER waterfall where…”

And on, and on, and on.

The entire paragraph above was transmitted to our valet in the span of time it took for HoBiscuit to take the three steps from the back of the car to the passenger side door he was holding open for her. Try to imagine the look on our poor valet’s face as he was bombarded with far more information than he ever in his short (and growing shorter by the second) life would have ever wanted to know about one of the hotel’s guests. Especially one whose husband was a little stingy with the tips which he depended upon in order to purchase wax for his surfboard. He had only expected a short, “We’re going to the beach.” Or possibly, “We’re going to go shopping.”

If it were a good day he’d get $10 and, “None of your damn business.”

He never expected to be given a step-by-step dissertation on a guest’s entire day’s activities at a volume level WAY past eleven. Many other valets, faced with such a chatty guest, would have become flustered. They might have let slip their professional facade of distant politeness and actually warmed to the person who seemed to so desperately need a friend to talk to like our hapless HoBiscuit.

But not our valet.

He was a consummate professional and, mustering all his years of experience in the valet profession, he managed to hold his vacant smile until HoBiscuit had situated herself inside the vehicle and then, as she continued to bombard him with ever more detailed descriptions of our planned days outing, he spoke over her in a continuous monotone that stopped her excited tirade in mid-sentence.

“Uh-huhthat’sniceokaybuh-bye.”

And then he closed the door in her face.

Obligatory “I’m Back” Post

So, I went to Hawaii for two weeks.

Why, you ask? Well, three weeks ago I had had enough of the workload I’ve been carrying since November and HoBiscuit was burning out at her job so we simply left. You heard me, we up and went away. After working nonstop for over three months straight, meaning no weekends, days off or anything else that might have allowed me to rest and recuperate, I knew that if I didn’t get away for a bit I would be going away for a long, LONG time. In a nice 10×10 foot padded cell. With a stylish white dinner jacket that tied in the back and an attendant whose only job would be to wipe the drool from my chin and help me swallow my happy pills.

Hmmm. Actually, come to think on it that doesn’t sound too bad…

Anywaste, getting away was probably the best thing we could have ever done. Kind of like our much delayed honeymoon. We feel much better than we have in a long time; we look tan and well rested and are even happy to be back home and working again. Hey, and even though I haven’t written here in a while don’t think for a moment that I don’t have stuff to say anymore.

Cause that would be just soooooo wrong.

So many fun and kooky things happened during this trip that I can’t even begin to write about all of them right now. All I can do is let you know that tomorrow I’ll start writing about what happened to us in Hawaii while today I’ll gather my thoughts and plan how to best illustrate in words some of the absolutely gut-wrenchingly funny stuff that happened to us while we were there.

We’re talking comedy gold here people.

So, in the meantime, for those of you who have stuck around waiting for me to return ever since my abrupt disappearance over two months ago all I can say is, you really, really need to get a life. Seriously. Or at least get up from the computer, warn the family that you’re coming out so they can clear the hallways and hide the pets, and take a shower.

Because dude, you are STANKY!