Thursday, July 9, 2009
I'm lying on a bench in the park outside of Iolani Palace in Honolulu, Hawaii, minding my own business, trying to take a siesta while my little sisters went to seek out a snack and my parents take a 45 minute audio tour of the palace (which I decided I was not interested in). All of the sudden, this Hawaiian family rolls up, like, twenty deep, with a picnic spread that could have fed the Spartan Army. Curious as to why, in this relatively large park, they need to park themselves within ten feet of me, I turn my head, crack open my eyes and sneak a peek. What happened next is astounding. First, before they dig into said nosh-fest, they all stand in a circle, bless themselves with the sign of the cross, hold hands and sing a little religious diddy. It was weird. After that, they started opening all their seven-odd million boxes of food. Innocent enough (my mouth was even watering a bit from the delicious wafting smells), until the whole thing turned into a Hitchcock film. No, not Rear Window; Not Psych. THE BIRDS!!! Birds from all reaches of Oahu swarmed around, including the freakish white pigeons they have here. Ack!! I hate pigeons, and I'm not particularly fond of birds of any kind (my Hell on Earth: St. Mark's Square, Venice, Italy -- google it.). It only gets worse. I felt like I couldn't get away because I didn't have anything (like a Quidditch bludgeon) to beat the brids away with. I sat up and got on guard, glaring at birds near me and staring in shock an awe at this family, who appeared either oblivious or peculiarly apathetic. As I sat and stared, I started to notice weird sights and sounds. Some birds were hopping around, cooing and pluming their feathers. Another was, for lack of better descriptors, rolling in the dirt. Oh, geez. I realized that not only were they swarming in hopes of food, they were engaging in MATING rituals. A regular keg-laden avian frat party on the lawn of Iolani Palace. Eventually the nightmare ended, but I kinda wished I had just sucked it up and went on the dang 45 minute audio tour.
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Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Walking back to our place after the 4th of July Ana Moana fireworks, my mom trips over someone's cane...
Laura (sister): "Mom, did you trip over that guy's cane?"
Suze (mom): "It was an accident! People need to watch where they put them in crowds!"
Jenna (sister): "Mom, he's blind."
The "cane" my mom tripped over was one of those blind people's walking sticks.
In other news, kinda over Michael Jackson 24/7. Kinda really over it. There was one of those Native American bands (the kind that are inexplicably prevalent in cities all over Europe) and they were playing Thriller on, like, a digeridoo. That's a digeridon't in my book. Ugh.
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