going down south

a lone excursion turned into a family affair, the kids and parents joined my day or rather took it over. it's not awful, but i'd really rather be alone. i am critical of their parenting, lack of discipline, and what i see as general boringness, but there are moments of pure heart, nuggets of beauty in their punk rock mess. i don't know what it would have been like to have parents such as these. i'm grateful for how i was raised, even as i thank my lucky stars i'm not still there with them. solid conservatives, my parents could always be counted on. i never worried about how they would react, never wondered what hell would rain down on me if i got caught, i knew.
this discontent boils down to my not wanting to be here doing all the chores anymore. it sucks to live in such chaos, trying to make order out of it, but not really being allowed to make change. they don't want change, and i don't want to live in insanity. which is why this arrangement works so well--i stay here as long as i can stand doing things their way and when i can't stand it anymore, i get my own place. i don't mean to paint them as difficult, really they're just different. i like peace, quiet, order, calm, clean, relaxing, private. they have two young girls who get and later destroy every toy ever made, play rock band till all hours, like punk rock, and never do the dishes. it's not a great fit, and is therefore temporary.
knowing that i have my own little cabin waiting for me on february first is both wonderful and frustrating. i want to be there now, cleaning, sweeping, playing beautiful music, pulling weeds and growing vegetables. i want to wear prairie outfits, baking bread and blending essential oils. i want to start 'songbird herbs and oils', my new cottage industry, putting labels on little brown bottles and dreaming up ways to put magic in them...
but today, i'm still in this life, and my new favorite thing is is is......snorkeling! we went to punalu'u black sand beach where the sea turtles hang out eating seaweed and sunbathing, and i borrowed a snorkel to get an underwater look. amazing, these creatures are incredibly beautiful, their shells covered in sea moss, they look like moving rocks from afar, then up close they eye you and subtly keep their distance while still managing to not be standoffish. i was touched, her arm a perfect paddling device gently brushed my thin skinned fin, and she looked back, nonchalant, then floated on.
hours passed, the tide rose and we continued on to south point, the southernmost tip of the united states. there were fishermen and fisherwomen, local boys with tattoos jumping off the old boat pulley, 50 feet down into the deep turquoise ocean. california girls doing it too, and climbing up the rusty ladder back to the top to go again. i wasn't so brave, and besides i was too wrapped up in the sinking sun, glittering across the blue miles, making my hair lighter, my skin darker, my heart happier.
on the ride back i nodded peacefully, barely noticing the vog and the asinine lyrics of sublime in my ears.

magic

yesterday was magic. it all started when i rounded the corner of the house in the morning heading toward my little toyota. the mist was just clearing as the sun pushed up through the trees, my shoulders bristled slightly in the 62 degree chill, and i was arrested by the piercing look of a full grown owl resting on the fence right beside my car. i fumbled for some words, an introduction or explanation, anything, but my mouth felt like an obstacle to communication, so i just shut up and stood there. minutes ticked by, my lips parted in awe. and eventually the owl turned his head, opened his wings and took off northeast, dew flying from his feathers. a warning? an omen? a message? i wondered, and settled on a message of a new direction. things would be changing this day, i should be alert for other signs.
as i mentioned in my last post, my social self was born again, my sense of belonging solidified. and then today, a gift was given to me. a place to live, well within my means, on several acres of well tended land, with fruit trees, richly soiled garden beds waiting, and an octagonal cedar cabin all to myself appeared out of the ether. the lack of obstacles astounded me. is life supposed to be this easy? i did not hesitate. the place is mine on february first. freyja's gonna be a happy kitty!
i bought a twelve pack of beer to celebrate. cleaned house, drank, ate, planned a day out to south-point tomorrow, the only place i haven't been on the island. from what i'm told there are turtles galore, dolphins, and quite possibly other more deadly sea creatures about. the aloha has found me, i am here, i am sooooo happy!

i'm famous

just by working at the 'natch', i've become a fixture in the community. at least it feels that way today. i went to a co-worker's birthday party and brushed up my swing dancing while falling in love with a woman named...um, whoops i forget, but i can't forget her california legs and that long blond hair. i'm making it a personal goal to get in as good of shape as she is by the time i'm her age. i have a good ten years, but it's a long way to go. she was seriously hot, drawing all kinds of attention without trying, and has now become my role model.
the town was abuzz because the electronic music festival was going on and all day i saw kids in the store with their super cute clothes, dyed hair and smiles. after work i saw many of the same kids on the street, and they all loved to say hi to me, the girl who works at abundant life. i was given a ticket to the show, and all through the night people were coming up to me, recognizing me from work, and introducing themselves as if i had some intrinsic value because i'm the produce queen. i even saw some of the vendors i've been working with. it was cool to be noticed. it feels like my social circle is forming, and i'm much more relaxed about the whole thing. no longer feeling weird and alien. i'm just another spider weaving her web.

today this stuff happened

today i got up before the sun, quietly put on clothes and made a hemp protein and maca (an amazonian superfood) shake, grabbed my leftovers from 'the garden snack club', a exquisitely delicious and tiny thai place where i ate last night and headed out in the cool morning to work. i have a regular schedule now, tuesday through saturday starting anywhere from 6:45am to 8:30am and getting off eight and a half hours later. i sort of like it. once there, i'm nearly an old hand, everyone greets me and lets me go about my business. i guess they trust i know what to do, and in a relative way, i do. i place the order for the mainland produce, i receive deliveries from local vendors, i stock the produce case and make it pretty, i rearrange the walk-in cooler a million times. i talk to customers about herbs and colon cleansers and (yes, this is true) the fact that there is no supplement that can replace the need for water.
on my lunch break, i intersected with a character i couldn't quite believe was real. a pirate. he was about 80, one regular leg, one peg leg--not wood but modern materials like steel and rubber, a golden hoop earring, a tattoo on his forearm, and a parrot, yes a parrot on his shoulder. he struggled to get out of his SUV but managed to heave himself up on the curb and then turned to me and asked if the tattoo shop was open. i said i didn't know, but i'd find out and knocked on the door. it was ajar, so i opened it and he thanked me as the tattoo guy came on the scene. the fact that he didn't have an eye patch assured me this was no costume. real talk.
when i got off, there was still daylight left so i decided to go for a run, but first i checked my po box and found another letter from my jailbird love. i was surprised because it was only a few days ago that i received one from him. i parked beside the huge banyan tree by the federal building and went to read my letter in the privacy of it's many folds. i want to quote a passage, but in fairness to him, i won't. it is enough to say that he wrote this letter as the year began, looking out on his barbed wire view, his cavernous heart poured out on the page for my pleasure. oh yes, he does stimulate my dramatic side, it's fundamental to romance, and this is by far the most romantic 'thing' i've ever had.
i went for a run, i did all the dishes, and then i cooked a breadfruit--one of the awesome things that grow on trees here. i'm tired, i'm working, i'm dreaming up my next incarnation.

i hit a clearing

i know a place where the wind is as strong as the stillness, where the sun is fierce as if always threatened that the night sky will outshine him, and the roots don't run deep, they just cling to rocks. time ticks slowly and everything is old. plants grow defensively, holding fast to their rations, daring nocturnal creatures to risk their skin for a sip. where footprints disappear along with laws the further out you go, and a soul is laid bare like the bleached bones of cattle left to sink slowly in the shifting sand.
whatever jungle or city or mountain or forest i race to explore, though beautiful and absorbing, never calls me back like home. the desert, that howling dog, always haunts me.
my father and i had a conversation not long ago wherein we conjured a relationship between ourselves and plants, asking which plant best represented us. i came up with a scrub pine for him, because he stubbornly grows year after year in harsh conditions simply because he wants to and he likes the place he's planted. (my mother calls him the mighty oak, but she's in love with him you know). for me, he said, the tumbleweed, riding winds to new locales just because i can, never knowing where i'm going. at the time, that seemed obviously appropriate, and now even more so in a broader sense because the tumbleweed can go anywhere, yes, but where does it belong? and where does it grow and reproduce?
i was told this hawaii trip was a vision quest, a mountain to climb from where i could see my path with perspective. i'm only a little way up the mountain, but already i can see things invisible just weeks ago. i will continue to climb knowing my home is not at the top of the mountain, but can only be realized in the journey.

i have an idea

ever get weirded out in your own skin? i feel like i'm coming out of a really strange episode where i didn't feel human, more like an unknown and hated alien. like all my past mistakes were obvious to everyone i met and i couldn't find the redeeming value in my life. i should have done better, i could have been someone amazing. now i'm thinking back on the last week and wondering if i'm crazy? what makes me think i'm so unique and awful? aren't we all having an unknown and uncharted experience here in our earthly bodies?
anyhow, i'm in the light now, wiping away the tears and seeing with my trusty eyes. i may or may not have made an ass of myself to friend A. i just got macked by my housemate. i feel dead sexy because i've lost 5 pounds since i got here. it's a grab bag of nonsense these days.
i went to visit frey today in her quarantine closet. she's doing fine, it seems, and i wonder if i'll have a place for her when she gets out. i don't want to stay here in this house for long, it's not a tidy issue. what it boils down to is this--no one makes money on this island from a "job". it takes an entrepreneurial spirit to succeed, and i have an idea! i am going to open a booth at the farmer's market selling essential oils, herbs, and mini spa/massage treatments like facial steams and foot baths. i see a niche to be filled and i'm tired of working for peanuts. i may not make alot at the market, but it only costs 25 bucks a day to set up and i will be my own boss, it can't be worse than working for 9 bucks and hour. this is how i'm going to take island life to the next level. i'm thinking about what kinds of oils, tinctures and tonics i'd like to carry and i'm creating an inventory list. next i'll make a menu of services and in a few weeks i should be ready to get started. my very own very small business. yay.

out with the old

in with the new. 2009 smiles on me, though i'm hungover and tired.
i found the perfect outfit to wear to the pirate themed party, on the day of the party, at the local farmer's market, from an awesome local designer, for a very reasonable price. you can't plan things like that. i drank a cup of kava, my drug of choice, before heading out to meet my new friends. smart thinking, i felt invincible, jamming to 80's tunes and ready to party. i arrived at the house of friend A, met a guy from latrobe (the town in PA where rolling rock is brewed), had a beer and assessed the attractiveness of friend A. we left for the party in one vehicle which smelled like crayons, drove up a gorgeous winding road cloaked in the secrecy of night to a place called hawi, at the northernmost tip of the island. the house was subtly magnificent, an old plantation house made of wood with many doors inside and out, broad windows, spacious enough to house a canoe containing a skeleton in the livingroom/dancefloor. music comfortably pumping through the large but simple rooms and spilling out three doorways into the soft grass covered grounds. the people greeted me with broad smiles, a handshake and a kiss on the cheek, a charming custom in these parts. i was not a stranger for long. before i located the bottle opener on the wall, i was trying to open my beer with a spoon when a tall drink of water saw my attempt and attempted to save the day. i let him. dimples kill me, i cannot resist them and why would i want to?
since i didn't understand the dynamic with friend A yet, i returned the flirtatious smile to my savior and lingered when he flashed his eyes at me. a brief exchange confirmed he was pleased to make my acquaintance, then i walked away to give him something to chase.
i met all kinds of people, a brit who rides triumphs, two sisters who were couchsurfing, a dog named guiness, a quirky dance partner, and some girls who were dressed for a mardi gras party. i felt like i had seen the house before, and when i found out the name of the host, it all became clear. when i visited the island last year, i had lined up a couchsurfing stay with him, though i never made it to that part of the island. i recognized the house from the pictures and description. how very small this island is.
the midnight hour arrived and friend A offered a kiss, though it landed more on my cheek, he was noncommittal. it did make me think that perhaps he was interested after all.
then the party really got rolling, and my savior was hunting me down. i would talk to him for a while, then walk away, he'd follow. he was kind of innocent which surprised me, and i couldn't deny there was chemistry happening, though something about him made me feel like i was 16. not altogether bad, but not where i want to be at 30. at one point he lured me out on the grounds to a garden shed with two other people who mysteriously disappeared. he kissed me in dramatic fashion, told me about his broken heart and how he just wants to be loved. standard issue young adult novel material, but i was tipsy enough to entertain him and just ate it up. i didn't want to disappear from the party for long, i needed to leave with friend A to get back to my car, so we wandered back. he asked me to stay, he offered to take me home, he might have even pleaded, but i had already made up my mind. i gave him my number, remarked offhandedly that he'd never call, and left with friend A and guy from PA.
once we were back at his house, friend A made a move. he was cute, it was late, and apparently his ambivalence dissolved. we embarked on an intentional kiss. i wasn't too sure about him, and i wasn't too sure about anything. i went to bed unsure how things would look in the morning. and sure enough, i'm still confused.
friend A regained his ambivalence, i went home and pondered the events of the evening, and then my savior called. from his parent's phone because his got shut off. he lives with them at age 25. again, not the worst thing in the world, but perhaps a sign of his immaturity. maybe he's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, but he certainly is pretty.