Saturday, September 18, 2010
Shoes are thing of high priority to beings with feet (that includes horses too, mind you).
You see, I came to this conclusion three years ago when I went and dropped $120 on a pair of red Earth shoes. Since then, I have managed to scuff them up and wear them into the earth (pun most certainly intended). Now, I don’t mean to use this Internet space as a cheap advertisement for Earth shoes, but I do have to say, wearing them is like walking on clouds. As I looked at them recently, I concluded that they were too old and if I want to play grown-up and be taken seriously, then I’ll have to find something else.
And so I went merrily down to the local shoe shop with thoughts of spending money fresh in my head. Whilst there, I perused the shoes, inspecting each one tediously. I shook the shoes, smelled them, estimated their weight, measured them and listened to what sounds they made. Whence I came upon a very peculiar pair of green shoes. I shook them; no sqeaks or squawks - perfect! I smelled them: mmm leather. I weighed them: they weighed nothing more than a feather. Lastly, I tried them on and was delighted. It was then that I realized that the shoe cobbler made them with me specifically in mind and what a tender fellow that shoe cobbler must be - to do such a thing. He took into consideration my arch, my lengthy toes and my heel shape. I was flattered and subsequently felt an overwhelming desire to demonstrate my gratitude by ya know, buying them. “Thanks Shoe Cobbler.”
So, I pranced around the store, experimenting with them in various positions. When I stood on one foot, they were still comfortable. When I skipped, they obediently skipped with me. When I stopped skipping, they stopped to. And when I looked at them affectionately, they did nothing. (Shoes that look back at you and say “hello” give me something of a fright). I decided that these were the shoes for me. So, with buoyancy, I handed over pots of money to the friendly cashier for these green things (who complimented me! How magnanimous of her!). And then I I scampered off feeling more than usually pleased with myself.
It’s been a few weeks now since I’ve had these green things and they have already evoked compliments that mostly sound like this “CUTE!” and “adorable!” However, I don’t know that they will actually be all that beneficial in making me more believable in the game up “grown-up,” which was um, sort of the whole point of me going shoe shopping.
As a general rule, those who buy green shoes have a tendency to reject the idea of growing up. So, I warn you you dear friends - be very wary of green-shoed people. (Or horses).
(okay, fyi, that picture really isn't the shoes I bought...[protecting reputation])
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Recently, I had the horror of noticing my reflection in the mirror. What I noticed was a girl looking back at me that looked like she hadn’t seen sun in about oh...twenty years and not only that but she sure looked like she could benefit from adventure. So, I went and diagnosed myself as having lack-of-adventure-sickness and a serious lack of sun-basking. I decided to take a vacation for “health reasons.” ‘Ah, a nice non-relaxing vacation full of adventure will do,’ I thought brightly to myself.
I managed to bamboozle my roommate into joining me by sulking around engulfed in a deep depression and frequently mentioning what fun a tropical vacation would be.... And before we knew it, we were setting foot in the very outdated airport - think big hunks of concrete and varnished red brick that gives one a desperate longing for the 70’s and a far away dewy look in the eyes. Yeah yeah, smartypants, we went to Maui, Hawaii! Kowabunga! (sorry, I just had to add that).
As proper adventurers we were not put up in some fancy hotel resort type of outfit. We found ourselves down at the local budget hostel which was occupied by a collection of ragged backpackers, fellow adventurers, a few surfers and absolutely no honeymooners.
There are a vast amount of reasons why one would enjoy a tropical vacation. One could mention things like beaches, hammocks, pina coladas, snorkeling, ivory sand and sunshine. But what has always drawn me to the tropics is the rainy jungle. Yeah, now ya know,I like the jungle. What of it? In my mind, it’s where things happen. It’s this wild uncultivated lush green land with lots of exotic animals and plant life. It’s where Puma’s pounce, new medicines are uncovered, where Tarzan met Jane and began an illicit affair, and of course, where much of the show Lost takes place. (Now how can one mention the jungle in this modern age with the exclusion of Lost, it would be scandalous to do such a thing).
So in order to indulge myself in Jungle pursuit, we drove right on through it utilizing the notorious Hana Highway.
THE ROAD TO HANA!
Why did I put this in caps? Simple. It is one of the few things I’ve com across in the acquisition of volumes of knowledge and wisdom (tee hee hee) that truly merits an all caps title. Yeah, you should go there.
The Hana Highway is this winding topsy turvy road through the jungle and through northeast Maui. It has oodles of measly one lane bridges and cars are obligated to yield cordially to one another (and curtsy) whilst they wait their turn to go over the rickety bridge (constructed in 1911 or some other out of date date). We made a point of stopping and eating a coconut mango smoothie and banana bread. Then we puttered along in our tiny white rental car stopping at various waterfalls until well, we were a bit waterfalled out. Nevertheless, we did manage to get several photos which will have the caption “Me under a waterfall.”
After we were all tired out, we of course managed to meander up some trail deep into the Hawaiian forest. Now what makes this hike so especially memorable is that it was partially through a bamboo forest. As I was hiking I was trying my very best to put into words what a bamboo forest sounds like when the wind blows through it. This is what I came up with: it sounds like a broken xylophone being hit upon by a piece of bamboo and various notes, harmonics and melodies are played. And this tune is accompanied with a peculiar smell. A smell not dissimilar to tropical tree sap mixed with rain and a bit of guava. Truly an elating experience! I think I’ll put it in my book that will be titled “100 Things to do Before you Die.”
Now the drive gets a bit stranger after all this. We eventually found ourselves in the southeast side of the island which is quite different from the northeast. There were no evil jungle princes, mermaids or other such nonsense here. Actually there was not a thing there. Perhaps a few mountain goats trying to find some thistle for mid-afternoon tree (isn’t that clever?!). We drove by a lonely church and that’s about it. Not the mention the bumpy rather road where it appeared that someone said “oh lets pave the road, which tiny plot?” And then they closed their eyes and threw hunks of wet asphalt at the road which eventually dried and became a nice bump to bump over in your tiny white budget rental car.
And then we topped it all off at The Big Beach. The End. (for now)
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
I recently encountered a new situation in which my lack of abilities failed to do much of anything. This is very usual for me.
A few nights ago, I was driving in my automobile and I noticed that it just felt strange, almost as if I were driving along some bumpy railroad tracks. So, after I put my car to sleep in his parking space, I inspected all of the tires to see if perhaps I had a flat. Well, it was dark, but my optic nerve did not detect any problems, so I sashayed on home with thoughts of food on my mind.
Well, today I approached my dear car and noticed something very startling, the previous night, I had been semi-hallucinogenic. When I had decided nothing was amiss, I was dead wrong - something was quite amiss. The tire had indeed deflated. Upon closer inspection, I realized I of course managed to run over something black and poky. So, I ran through all my options in my head as to how to get around with a flat tire. Could I drive on the freeway with a significantly deflated tire? I thought not. I wondered about the bus. I knew I could hop on the 96. But then, I put in my Rosie the Rivitor attitude and said "I'm going to change this flat If It's The Last Thing I Do!" And then I pounded my chest and yodeled loudly.
I imagined myself as a true Rosie, with my red bandanna, my big biceps (which really are something to look upon with complete adoration [big exaggeration]), and my blue mechanic jump suit (I've really got to get one of those - very stylish).
I unpacked my spare tire and looked at all the pieces confoundedly. Confidently, I began to follow the easy instructions. Put car in park. Put on emergency break. Blah. Blah. Blah. I looked closely at the picture and it did not appear that I had all the pieces and the clock was ticking (I had to eventually be at work). "Ah, what a great excuse to give up!" I thought happily to myself.
So, I did a very un-Rosy thing, I put the whole lot away and sat down and pouted. The thing was, time was ticking and I really had to scuttle away to work. So, I gave it all up and called a cab, which incidentally turned out to be great fun. I had a very friendly cab driver who gave me lots of attention and asked me all sorts of questions about what exactly it is that I do for work. In the end, I felt quite validated even as I handed pots of cash over to the cabbie.
The adventure for tomorrows schedule remains the same - figure out what I'm going to do about my flat tire.
What I Learned: I can't do it. Give up. Stop believing in myself.
(Okay, really, I could have done it, I just lacked any drop of motivation to really get down to business and in the end, it cost me a $25 cab fare).