Now bow your heads and pray for all the poor souls who come into contact with me while I'm traveling.

Only in Hawaii can a man wear a pair of shorts with big flowers all over them and still be considered straight.

I'M BACK! Aren't you happy? Thrilled? Excited?

Well, I have a whole buttload of work to do, motherfucker. But first, I share with you a few reasons why I should never ever be allowed to drive ever again:

1. "No! I will not look! If I look over there, we will crash and die!"
2. "No! No radio! If we have noise, we will crash and die!"
3. "Don't talk to me! We will crash and die!"
4. "Aaaaaah! A bridge! A bridge! Aaaaaaah!" (Hey, it was a narrow bridge)
5. "Aaaaaah! Big truck! Big truck! Aaaaaah!"
6. "I promise to try not to scare the shit out of you, but for God's sake stop screaming!"
7. "Aaaaaah! Driver's Tan! Driver's Tan! Aaaaaah!"

This is Rainbow Falls, in Hilo. When I was little I tried to convince my parents to let me jump off the top, to no avail... I'm small! I float! I swear, I won't die!

And this is the Kilauea caldera at Hawaii Volcanoes National Park (The most active volcano in the whole wide world). I'd highly recommend hiking across it, except that I nearly died the last time I tried that... But then, I almost died when I tried to eat a flauta, so... Whatever.

And this is the Thurston Lava Tube. It's a big hole in the ground... It is also the place where I first got felt up. Whee!

And this is the Ahu'ena Heiau right next to the Kailua Pier in Kona. I spent a lot of my childhood right here at the Kai O' Pua Canoe Club, or swimming off the pier, or watching the haole boys pretend to sandboard, but mostly just stand around trying to look pretty.

You see, my affection for tall, big boned, white boys started a long time ago.

Did you know that when you spill a scalding cup of coffee on your hand, your hand will smell like coffee all day long? Also? IT WILL HURT LIKE A SON OF A BITCH.

But it's not as painful as tomorrow will be... When I will be DRIVING a CAR! Oh, I fear for my safety. And your safety. And the safety of all the mailboxes on the Kitsap Peninsula.

And remember, if you don't hear from me in 2 days have the proper authorities look in all the ditches along this route:

But don't kid yourself... I still scared the shit out of myself. And several people, although not harmed, were annoyed with my amateurish parallel parking skills.

For the record, I didn't make it all the way around. I got to one wee town and fell head over heels in love! There is a store that sells logs that are chainsaw-carved into the shape of bears! And there was a bakery that makes religious bread! And a store with nothing but fuzzy shoes! And a large population of men that look like Kenny Rogers!

And get this... There is a store that sells nothing but cats. Cat sconces, cat potholders, cat clocks, cat placemats, CAT EVERYTHING! Hello?!? Was that heaven? Because I can think of nowhere better to begin life as head of The Future Spinsters of America.

** Pictures tomorrow!

I expected tacky.

I expected plastic and overdone.

But then I went to The Wynn and saw a giant inflatable frog appear over the top a waterfall and sing "Lowrider".

:blink:

Who knew it was possible for Las Vegas to be tackier than I had envisioned. Because OH MY GOD, I have no words to express my horror... Well, no words. Hysterical laughter - THAT I GOT!

PS. I think I ate more meat (and lard) this weekend than I did in the whole of November. I AM SO NAUSEOUS!

PSS. Everybody is adorable. Y? ADORABLE! Bren? ADORABLE! Joelle? ADORABLE! Mikey? ADORABLE! (Even though he insisted on calling me "Piehole" like that's my name or something.)

I'm coming to eat all your dark chocolate Tim Tams! ... But not your lollycakes, because BY GOD those things are disgusting.

Also, I'm not too fond of the jimmy pies with cheese in it... I never thought I would disparage something with CHEESE in it, but seriously - what is that?

And I might want to discuss with you the way you all don't know what I'm saying when I say "tomato"... IT'S NOT THAT HARD TO GET.

And finally. I do not want to talk to any of you about American football. I have already heard all the jokes. You're not that funny.

OK. Now you are prepared... Let the traveling begin! (Well, not right now. Give me a bunch of weeks first.)

To prepare myself for my upcoming vacation, I thought I would DRAMATICALLY RECREATE previous travel mishaps. Because if you thought I injured myself a lot normally, you have no idea... There is something about the country of New Zealand that makes me even more injury prone... Must be the coriolis effect.

For instance... There was that time that I was standing on the bow of a boat and the coriolis effect made me fall off.

In this dramatic recreation you may notice an antenna in my hand and wonder, "What's up with the antenna?" Why, it is for grabbing in an attempt to not fall off the boat. Because, you know... a thin piece of aluminum is strong enough to keep a full grown me from falling off a boat. Duh!

When on a plane for 16 solid hours, the most unfortunate seating would occur next to which the following?

1. Someone suffering from what appears to be the Black Lung
   
2. Loud, gravelly-voiced woman
   
3. Human being shaped like giant cinnamon roll
   
4. Someone who's personal transportation motto is: "Hey! Let's flip up this here armrest so that my rolls may roll into your seat and roll you up against the window! It'll be fun!"
   
5. Canadian

Or maybe just all of those rolled up into one big dyke.

PS. Be warned Cinnamon Roll! I ain't nice anymore. Next time, you get shanked.

I can't seem to fit everything I need for a three-week vacation into one extra-large suitcase and one medium-sized carry on... I've even had to scale myself back to two pairs of shoes! And only three handbags! I'M GOING TO DIE!

But at least my hair will look fabulous because I'm carrying a big enough haircare arsenal to style the hair of all of you... A girl's got to have priorities.

Other priorities include:
1. iBook
2. Fuzzy socks
3. Copy of Naked currently being held together with scotch tape.

Hmm... If you think about it - Why am I going so far to do exactly what I do every Sunday in the :scm:?

This is a New Zealand outlet. Notice the switch... The purpose of which is to make Americans go, "WHY ISN'T THIS WORKING?!? Bah!" And then question the workyness of their hair dryer/curling iron/cell phone recharger/electrical converter.

... Stupid switch.

Yes. I'm in a Starbucks. In Queenstown, New Zealand... Because you can take the girl out of Seattle, but you can't take the desire to sit in a big comfy chair in a cafe, drinking an americano* and reading memoirs, out of the girl.

* With milk! Because they don't have Half & Half here! AAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!!

Travel stories to come! After a nap and a sausage roll (How I have missed you, sausage rolls!) and about 800 Speights (How I have missed you more, South Island beer!).

PS. LOOK! This entry was written in THE FUTURE! Eerie.

This is a country obsessed with the hot beverage. Everywhere you go, someone is trying to make you drink something warm... I don't know exactly what the feverish obsession is with drinking coffee AT ALL HOURS OF THE DAY AND NIGHT.

Hmm. I never thought I'd ever say that... But then I drank coffee for a solid 12 hours and I have never been so dehydrated in my life.

And now for more hot beverage action: Observe the coffee packet that would not open.

I think they make it out of titanium or some anti-American plastic/paper alloy... So I threw it across the room and "argh"ed at it. That'll learn ya, stupid coffee packet!

This is what it looks like when you're driving around South Otago.

If that wasn't reason enough to fall in total and complete love with this place, realize, I wear a size MEDIUM here. Hell, I can even squeeze into a small! And if you've ever seen the size of my frontal region in real life you'd be shocked (SHOCKED!) that I could fit it into a size medium.

I also love this place because the people here seem very open to my abuse.

Abuse #1

"What'll you have in your coffee?"

"Milk in mine... Draino in his."

Abuse #2

"What's for dinner?"

(Poke) "Don't you have enough to live off already?"

Abuse #3

(Takes off shirt)

(Stumbling around) "Augh!! I'm blind!!"

Bathroom stalls with doors ALL THE WAY TO THE GROUND! And almost all the way to the ceiling! How sumptuous! It's like I'm the freaking Queen!

Since I've been in New Zealand, I've threatened to move here about 5 trillion times. Something that instills a deep-seated fear in friends who pee in bushes. Not because I'm not perfectly lovely, but because I'm officially his father's favorite... And because conversations in his house now go like this:

Now for fun, here's a couple of pictures:

120 year old lizard. (No shit!)

Oreti Beach - seen from the passenger seat of a Ford Falcon going approximately 4000 miles per hour.

Doubtful Sound... Why is it doubtful, Jennifer asks? Pees-in-a-bush has no answer. A lot of help he is. Bastard.

I don't know about you, but I can't believe it's been three weeks! I AM SO SAD! There should be more vacationing. And more Speight's. And more inconviencing my friends. And more not working.

Although, I suppose I did do the two things that I set out to do on this holiday.

1. Get a picture of my drunken ass.

2. Corrupt small children.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have several thousand miles to travel, and several dozen beers to drink.

This is what my morning walk was like for the last three weeks.

It typically included absolutely no makeup, a cup of coffee, a dog, and me screaming "DON'T JUMP IN THE POND! DON'T JUMP IN THE POND! DOOOON'T JUMP IN THE POOOONNND!" And then a wet dog.

But the highlight of morning walks in a paddock would be the time I fell head over ass (wet grass is wet!), and dumped half a cup of coffee on my pants... A lot of use a wet dog is in that situation.

I went to brunch this morning, and sat at the counter next to someone who had spent a year in New Zealand... And then the two of us sat there and talked about how much fun it is to be the cute American, and the frustration of trying to cross a street in a foreign country.

So hard!

When pressed, I can't remember what side I should be looking for traffic. And the more I think about it, the more freaked out I get, and then I just end up BOLTING across the street, screaming. I'm hoping this behavior will one day be seen as "cute", because so far it's only hilarious.

But at least now I know I'm not the only one.

• While I was away, my boss worried that he would get a call from me saying "I won't be back! Pack up my things!"* and then threatened to kill himself... The homosexuals. They're not overdramatic or anything.
  
  * I had NO IDEA that I could do this! OH, THE LOST OPPORTUNITY!

• I think I saw Hayley Mills at LAX on my way to NZ. My airplane boyfriend disagreed. But what did he know? He only had one eye. (Pirates arrr sexy.)

• You can always tell the Polynesians at the airport. They're the ones checking in a duct taped cooler **... Ah, my peoples. We know what's important... Food.
  
  ** Chilly bin!

• How freakin' posh is Air New Zealand? So much leg room! I could cross my legs! And great food! And free booze! And an empty seat next to me! And my own, personal, on-demand TV! I AM SO FANCY!
  
  Unfortunately, I was sitting behind the world's most flatulent man... I wish I were kidding. I'm surprised I made it out alive.

• Kiwi masseuses have a whole different idea about what is the appropriate amount of naked, because I was lying there totally naked... I'd have been petrified and crying for a towel if he hadn't already used the vulcan death grip on me.

I'm not one of those nervous flyers. I'm one of those nervous preparers... Rather, I'm one of those ANALLY RETENTIVE preparers. Complete with repeatedly checking my e-tickets to verify that YES! They do actually exist! And they are still for 6:30am on January 1st 2007! It didn't change from the last time I looked at them or anything! Weird!

I also have packing lists, pre-packing lists, itineraries, pre-itineraries, household to-do lists, work to-do lists, things-that-do-not-fit-in-the-previous-categories lists, and pinpoint schedules coming out of my ass.

Like this one.

Because, you know... the world will fall apart if I do not have a list to tell me to pack my socks at 9:30am tomorrow morning... THE WHOLE SCHEDULE COULD GET THROWN OFF! And then what if I ran out of lip gloss packing time!?! Or lotioning time?!? Or footwear selecting time?!?! Or Getting Over Myself time?!?!! OH MY GAAAAAWD!!

So anyway, if you're in Anaheim and you see some twitchy girl with unglossed lips, chappy elbows, and no shoes, THAT'S ME! Say hello! (I'm already MAKING this one say hello... She shouldn't be the only one in pain.)

PS. Happy New Year!

PSS. New Year's Day is a totally stupid time for flying. Please relay that message to my mother.

1. My mother's hair is growing back after radiation treatment, and she decided to celebrate this event by... GETTING AN OLD LADY POODLE PERM... I didn't know how I was supposed to react to this, but I chose to recoil in terror and go, "Aaah!"
   
   But hey... Not my fault. Someone should have told me my mother was 75-years-old now.

2. Best things ever? Putting silly hats on toddlers.
   
   Yay for pliable babies!

   
   Second best thing? Instead of every single conversation being about farting and punching each other in the face, there were conversations about barrettes! And our hair!

   
   Yay for girly nieces!

3. In the general Disneyland area, every meal is served with cottage cheese for some reason. The reason being... I don't know, MY GRANDMA designed the menus?
   
   Also, I am totally meated out... I mean, just TRY to order something in Disneyland without meat on it or in it. Hell, they stuffed my hashbrowns with meat! And the oatmeal came with a side of meat! ... I'm surprised the cotton candy didn't come with ham. (PS. Eating crappy Disneyland food for 5 days results in a net gain of 1.3 lbs of fat. HOLY JESUS.)

4. Not to get too crazy-eyed feminist on you or anything, but seeing every single Disney icon of feminine helplessness in one skin-crawling shot was physically revolting... And I went to this land of fucked up gender roles. Under duress, but still! I went! AND I ENJOYED THE TOWER OF TERROR! A LOT!!
   
   Arg! I WASN'T SUPPOSED TO LIKE ANYTHING! How can I be the angsty 35 year old when I'm screaming my bloody head off on a log ride?! (PS. Every single picture of me taken on any ride in Disneyland shows me screaming with glee! I'm so ashamed.)

5. I stabbed no one, but threatened everyone with a butter knife if they didn't shut up already because they were DRIVING ME UP THE WALL... And then I buttered the ones that didn't shut up. Which in this family includes practically everyone.
   

* Anaheim is hokey, but not as hokey as I thought it would be. But then, keep in mind I'm from Kona, where they send out men in pareo to run around and light tiki torches every night ... So I might just be hokey-immune.

Who's bright idea was it to bring me out to some cabin in the middle of the Puget Sound, where I have to make my own fire?!? Now, I'm going to die! Oh yeah, it was my idea, because I had to get away from the "noise" and the "everything smelling like pee" thing.

Well, guess what!? Birds make noise! All day long, it's just CHIRP, CHIRP, CHIRP! And I'm sure the horses in the backyard pee all over.

Poor me. On holiday, in my little cabin on Vashon Island, with the fireplace, and the hot tub, and the boy coming over to cook (and hopefully light fires).

:hubbahubba: