Bye Bye Birdie

One of the best things about living in Hawaii is the food. It's fabulous, it's everywhere and there are so many different things to try. Being the traditionalists that we are however, Mr. Stephanie and I decided to make a ham for Easter instead of going out to sample the local fare. We stuffed our faces, not really thinking about it when Stephanie Jr. asked, "Ham is pig, right?" "Nah," replied my husband, "ham is ham." Yum! We finished our meal and set out for a drive around town.

Taking in the fabulous scenery, Jr. and I relaxed while Mr. Stephanie drove. "Hmm..." he said, "I think I made a wrong turn, I'm gonna' flip around." As he turned the car into a cul-de-sac, we noticed an injured bird in the middle of the road. "Oh, no," I exclaimed, "there's a hurt bird." Mr. slowed the car down and we noticed that there were actually two birds, pigeons, in the road. "I think they're just playing," my husband said. Upon closer inspection, we realized that one bird was indeed hurt and the other bird was protecting its injured companion. Ugh. As Mr. and I looked at each other with tears in our eyes, Jr. decided that this would be a good time to chime in, "You know, pigeons mate for life." How sad.

As we drove toward home a realization hit me. "I don't think I can eat meat anymore," I pronounced.
"You don't think so, huh? That's going to be hard," my husband responded.
"I've done it before."
"Okey-dokey."

Feeling pretty good about myself and my new found vegetarianism, I put my window down to feel the ocean breeze and an incredible smell drifted through the car.

"Oh, my god, what is that smell?" I asked.
Mr. looked over at a nearby park and pointed, "Over there, they are roasting whole chickens."
As I wiped the drool from the corner of my mouth, I came to the conclusion that, yep...this is going to be hard.

Epilogue:
Stephanie's vegetarianism lasted approximately one day. The chicken did her in.

Shame-Faced at the Nail Salon

Moving to Hawaii after a long Idaho winter seems like a dream come true. Ok, it is a dream come true. It seems like I learn something new every day. Case in point...one perfect, sunny, dream-come-true Hawaiian day, my friend called to ask if I'd like to get a pedicure. I said I'd love to and asked her to give me a few minutes so I could get ready. I picked out a lovely sundress and sandals and did a quick makeup application. Just before it was time to leave, I noticed that my feet were dirty. Really dirty. Walking around barefoot all the time will do that. Hmmm...what to do, what to do. I decided that since I was getting a pedicure, I probably didn't need to worry about it, they'd come clean in the foot bath.

Off I went to the little nail salon with my friend. My friend who was wearing jeans and had perfectly clean feet, might I add. I guess this would be a good time to mention that I'd only had one pedicure in my life before, so I didn't really know the protocol. When I sat down in the chair and they covered my lap with a huge towel, I wasn't sure what to think. My friend didn't get covered with a towel. When the nail artist sat on a stool at the foot of my chair, it became clear. Proper protocol does not include wearing a dress, the nail artist does not want a peepshow. Oops.

My pedicurist put my feet in the bath and clucked her tongue at me.
"That's a lot of dirt," she delicately stated.
She pulled one foot out and patted it dry.
"You did your color yourself, didn't you? Don't do that anymore."
I heard snickering from the next chair as my friend was trying not to laugh.
She buffed and shined my dirty tootsies to perfection.
"Do you live here? Have you ever even had a pedicure before?"
I explained that I had just moved from Idaho where my poor peds had been stuck in snow boots for the last six months.
"How your feet look is important, especially now that other people can see them. You need to come back at least once a month." She looked down at the finished product, "In your case, maybe every three weeks."
Ouch.
I paid the bill, gave her an enormous tip (hush money, really) and vowed to come back every three weeks. When Mr. Stephanie asks me why I'm spending so much money on my feet, I'll just have to tell him, "It's a self-esteem thing."

All Together Ooky

Ahhh...the islands. Beautiful, sunny, warm. Everything a person could want...Paradise. So imagine my surprise when my paradise was invaded by creepy, crawly creatures! Ok, I know that technically, I'm the one invading their space, but come on...ick. It all started with a few lizards. I was sitting in a lawn chair minding my own business when I looked up to see an itty bitty lizard on the umbrella pole. Cute, right? That's what I thought too, until I noticed he was staring at me. He wouldn't stop. I tried to scare him away, but he just kept staring. I think he was trying to psych me out! There was no fear in his beady little eyes, just contempt. He was waiting me out to see if I'd move first. Well, I did, so I guess he won that round.

Walking back (barefoot) to my condo, I just happened to look down and see a lizard darting right under my foot. Ugh!!! Was that little bastard following me? I narrowly escaped stepping on him and ran full speed to the stairs. Out of breath, I slammed the door behind me, thankful to be in the safety of my home.

"What's your problem," Mr. Stephanie asked as I leaned against the door.
"Lizards, everywhere, almost stepped on one. I'm going to look at the ground from now on when I'm walking."
"Um, you might want to rethink that one," Mr. laughed, "you're going to run into something if you don't watch where you're going."
"It's better than stepping on a critter," I replied.
"By the way," my husband so helpfully offered, "you do know that the lizards get in the house too, right? They help control the bugs, so they're actually good to have around. Oh, and did I mention the cockroaches and rats?" Much laughter on his part.
"Shut. Up."