I Need A Vacation -- Again

Kim and I took a 9-day vacation earlier this month.  We had a great time -- plenty of sun, beautiful sights, and delicious food.  It really was a pretty awesome trip.  The only problem is that, just two weeks later, I already need another vacation.

This three-day holiday weekend should have helped.  But, here I sit, just after 8PM on Monday evening, wondering if I'll be able to stay awake for another hour.  I'm exhausted and in need of a re-charge.  I have no idea why.  It's not like I did anything strenuous this weekend, unless you count watching Jay play 5 soccer games as strenuous activity.  Come to think of it, I do get kind of exhausted watching him play.  My heart rate really gets going as I sit in my chair, critiquing the game, the officiating, and the substitution patterns, all while continuously checking the clock to see how much time is left in the game.  Thank God there's not a videotape (or an audiotape) of me watching the game.  It would not be pretty.

But, back to my need for a vacation.  It started as soon as we got home.  From the very first day back at work, a little voice inside my head kept telling me I needed a break.  Soon enough, all I could think of was where we could go next.  So, after being home for all of two days, I asked Kim to find somewhere for us to go over Christmas break.  Ever since, the whole family has been poring through www.vrbo.com and www.homeaway.com, searching for that perfect Caribbean getaway.  Unfortunately, despite all the man hours we've logged on those sites, we're still no closer to finding the perfect spot.  That means I'm still sitting here, obsessing over the need to get away again, no closer to knowing where we're going to go.

For someone who never vacationed anywhere other than Lewis Run for the first 20 years of my life, I don't know where this fascination with vacations started.  Speaking of Lewis Run, maybe I can convince the family that we should just go there.  If I remember correctly, the last time we visited, we had an awesome fish fry, sang karaoke, and played Penny Pitch.  Who could ask for anything more?

Things I Would Have Done Today If We'd Won the Powerball Drawing

It's been almost three full days since I found out we didn't win the Powerball drawing.  My disappointment this time wasn't quite as bad as it was the last time we played.  Perhaps that's because I only threw $10 down the toilet this time in my quest to get rich quick.

Even though our numbers didn't come up on Saturday night, I can still imagine what life would have been like if we had won.  Here are just a couple things that would have been different today if I had drawn the winning ticket:

• Someone else would have gotten up at 4:15AM with my new best friend Wally to let him out the front door.  And, that someone else would have installed a doggy door first thing this morning after the sun came up so this new little ritual of his could come to a quick end.
• I would have just thrown my dirty running clothes away after their daily use instead of washing them out by hand in the bathroom sink.  How much of a dent in that $590 million could a lifetime's supply of running clothes really make, anyway?
• I would have had my driver take me to work (yes, I'd still be going there) rather than wonder if the "Check Engine" light was going to come on again when I started my car up this morning.
• The phrase "That's too expensive" would not have immediately come to mind when Hannah showed me the vacation spot she's picked out for the post-Christmas trip we're trying to plan. In fact, that entire phrase would have been permanently erased from my mind.
• Rather than watch Robyn's 2010 Pitchfork Festival performance of "Fembot" yet again on YouTube (yes, I'm addicted), I would have just flown her over here from Sweden to dance around the back yard.

A boy can dream, right?

Guilty Pleasure

I'm sitting here watching "Titanic" for what must be, conservatively, the tenth time in my life.  OK, it's nothing to be proud of but it's one of those movies, like "Mean Girls," "Terms of Endearment," "The Shawshank Redemption," and -- now -- "The Last Song" that I can't turn away from when I see it on TV.

What is it about "Titanic" that's so captivating?  Here are just three reasons.

• The clipped, breathless way that Kate Winselt says "Jack" throughout the entire movie.  It doesn't matter if she's taking a leisurely stroll with him on the deck, dancing madly with him in steerage, or shyly asking him to draw her in her sitting room.  Each time, she gets it just right.
• Leonardo DiCaprio's hair, particularly that little strand of bangs that falls across his forehead.  As much as Rose likes Jack's look when he shows up in a tuxedo for his "reward" dinner after saving her from her suicide attempt, I'm not a big fan of his slicked back hair.
• Captain of the ship Bernard Hill.  I admit that my fascination with him didn't really start until after "The Lord of the Rings" movies.  As Theoden, he gets the best line of that trilogy (If you're wondering, it's "And Rohan will answer.")  Too bad that he's the goat of "Titanic."

Unfortunately, there's no way I'll be able to make it through the whole movie since, with commercials, it's going to run til midnight.  I can't stay up that late.  So, I'm going to miss my favorite scene.  That would be the one with the whistle.

Mahalo

Kim and I just got back from our big Hawaiian vacation.  Kim has always wanted to go but I didn't think I'd ever get there.  It just seemed to be too far away and not worth the effort it would take to get there.  Of course, now that I've been, I can't believe it took me so long to visit.  What a wonderful place.

Our trip had many highlights.  Here are just a few.

• Yes, it takes forever to get to Hawaii  On our way there, we had to take three separate flights to arrive on Lanai.  The final flight was on an eight-seat, single prop plane.  Before boarding, each passenger had to weigh-in on a scale at the gate with their one carry-on.  I came in at 149 pounds with my backpack; I didn't look at what anyone else weighed.  After weighing in, we got placed on the plane based on our weight.  Once we all got past that little humiliation, we walked out, climbed on board, said hello to the 20-something pilot, and took off.  The flight over from Maui was spectacular.  Even Kim, who was terrified when she first saw the plane, admits that this was one of the best parts of the trip.
• I've been wearing zipper pants for years.  But, I don't think I've ever actually had a reason to unzip them and turn them into shorts -- until Hawaii.  You don't know how awesome it was to arrive back on Maui, get to the rental car, take off my sneakers, unzip my zipper pants, and step into my flip-flops.  How freeing!  I might have to do it more often.
• Only in Hawaii can you get in a traffic jam, stop for a minute, and say to yourself "Well, if we're going to be stuck here for an hour, we might as well pull off and sit on the beach."  That happened to us just outside of Lahaina.  While we were stopped for lunch, we heard that there had been a fatal accident on the road back to Wailea and that traffic would be stopped in both directions.  We weren't sure that was true and decided to press our luck.  Unfortunately, the rumor was true.  Normally, a traffic jam would have me cursing my bad luck.  This time, it just so happened that we hit the road block right next to a beach.  So, we turned around, parked the car, sat by the beach, and watched the surfers.  After an hour relaxing, we hopped back in the car and were on our way.  I'll take a traffic jam like that any day.
• I hate the beach but, in Hawaii, I sat on the beach happily wo separate times, once for 4 hours and another time for 7 hours(!).  The reason -- people watching.  The highlight was the guy who walked onto the beach in his jeans, wrapped a towel around himself, and proceed to remove his jeans and underwear and step into his bathing suit.  He went through this whole process in about 30 seconds and never once came close to exposing himself.  I'm going to have to try this -- in my bathroom, of course, until I get it down pat.
• Fish tacos are everywhere.  In fact, I had fish tacos three separate times, the last time from a food truck on the beach at Makena.

The best thing, though, was the 20-mile drive we did along the north coast of Maui.  I thought it would be a neat way to get over to Kapalua with going back through Maalaea.  It wasn't until we were a mile or two into the trek that Kim read from the guide book that we were now on a one-lane road that tourists were advised not to take.  At that point, there was no turning back.  Oh, well.  We're still alive.

What a trip.  I may just have to go back.

Will It Fit?

My after-dinner job is to put away the leftovers.  I'm not sure how that one fell to me, but it did.  I actually like this job.  Why?  Because, each night, it's like a little game.  The objective of the game is simple -- find the smallest possible container in which to fit each leftover item.

This obsession of mine is something I'm pretty sure I inherited from my mother.  She is particularly skilled at the art of storing leftovers.  Her calling card is the way in which she transfers leftovers into increasingly smaller containers as the leftovers begin to disappear.

For example, assume that she made three pounds of spaghetti for dinner but we were only able to eat two pounds.  The extra pound of spaghetti would get stored in the appropriately-sized container.  The next day, that container would get pulled out for lunch for whoever wanted it.  Let's say that another half-pound would get eaten.  Most people would just put the remaining spaghetti back in the refrigerator in the same container.  Not my mother.  She'd pull a smaller-sized container out of the cupboard, transfer the remaining spaghetti into it, and put the new container into the refrigerator.

Kim cured me of that habit many years ago.  But, I'm still extremely focused on using the smallest container I can to store each night's leftovers.  Usually, I'm pretty darn good.  Tonight, though, I had a major problem with the mashed potatoes.  I sized up what remained and pulled one of the smaller Pyrex bowls out of the corner cabinet.  I began spooning mashed potatoes into it.  About two-thirds of the way through, I was pretty sure that I'd guessed wrong.  That didn't stop me.  I kept right on going.

When I was done, the mashed potatoes stood a good quarter-inch above the top of the bowl.  I decided to try and get the lid on anyway.  Slowly, I started to push it down.  Sure enough, excess mashed potatoes soon started pouring over the edge.  I scraped them off with my finger, licked that finger, and then grabbed the serving spoon.  I took out a spoonful of mashed potatoes, ate it, and tried again.  I still had too much in the leftover bowl.  So, I helped myself to another heaping spoonful of mashed potatoes and tried once more to get the lid on the bowl.  And, once again, I failed.  Finally, after three tries -- and three heaping spoonfuls of mashed potatoes, I got the lid on the bowl.

The only good thing about this little fiasco is that Kim wasn't home to see my failure.  The bad news is that I'm stuffed so full of mashed potatoes that I'm going to have to take a pass on the apple pie that's just sitting there in the refrigerator waiting for me to eat it.  That's probably a good thing.  If I ate a piece, I'd just be tempted to take the remaining amount out of the pie plate and stick it back in the refrigerator on a more appropriately-sized plate.  We couldn't have that, now could we?