I Just Don't Want To.

I'm tired of this. I'm tired of crossing days off on the calendar on my bright yellow wall. Xs representing every day I've been apart from him-- too many blank squares standing between me and Denver-- me and the man I love with all of my heart. How is it possible? How can you give up so completely-- and then find what you've always wanted has been quietly sitting on the edges of your life for years. Years. I won't say that they were wasted. Nothing that teaches you a lesson can be a waste. You can't regret it, because you don't know what would have happened if things have been different.

I hate the map on my wall today. It's a "poster to color" of the United States. I've colored in all of the states that I've been to- within my memory. There aren't many left to color. I've even got the hard ones like Alaska and Hawaii. But Wyoming remains blank. Blank for another three weeks. But that's where he is. So that's where I want to be.

I can't explain this change inside of my heart. Home used to hold a fixed kind of contentment for me. I hated being gone from here. I loved the sun and the mountains and the wide ocean, and every familiar street and store. I still love these things, I guess. But... there's a piece of me- and not a piece like an appendix or that extra kidney (however useful it may be), it's like my heart or liver or lungs, let's say lungs- that is gone. That is where he is. And it's like I've given up all loyalties. It's like I've tied my fate and wellbeing and hopes into a knot and strung it around his neck, or something. I don't know if those are the right words.

It's not like I can't go on without him. I just don't want to. I want to be where he is. I want to cluck over his calluses and small cuts. I want to hear him dismiss them as nothing and look at him with my sad little eyes because I don't like him being hurt at all. I want to be silly about some things. I want to run to meet him when he comes home. Scurry about the place, making sure everything is tidy, although I already know it is. I want to make dinner with him. Giggle as he tells me about his day of work and laugh when he stops whatever he's doing to kiss me. I want to be married to him already. Now. Not in 72 days.

I'm impatient. I'm nervous. I'm stressed. I'm too much in love to be rational. I know his faults. He knows mine. We know in what ways we are compatible, and in which we are not. We know that there will be struggles ahead of us-- perhaps too many to number. I don't care- as long as we get to struggle through them together. I don't care about the hard times, as long as I get to be with this man I love and respect so much. I miss him. I miss him too much for words and I remember this feeling.

I guess for anyone who doesn't know me this may sound flippant, but I remember this feeling. I remember my freshman year of college-- and feeling this sense of devastating loss in my first months at school. A crippling loss. I missed San Diego so much I had to struggle through every day. The feeling became manageable. It didn't go away- I pushed it from me and I learned ways to cope with it- learned to distract myself in any way necessary.

I miss him more than that. I miss my man. We should have eloped-- I could be where he is now. But we have to finish playing this game, I guess. And talking with him on the phone every night soothes that pain to some extent.

I just can't wait to be his help meet.

Exciting

I'm tired. It's the kind where your mind is rushing a mile a minute, perhaps even perfectly sound logical thoughts, but it has left your body behind some time ago. My very bones feel like they need to sink into the sleep of Rip Van Winkle-- who slept through his youth; it's as if the very sleep they cry for would only harm them. It's the kind of tired that busyness makes you.

And I'm not unhappy. I'm sitting in my parent's living room, listening to good music, watching the lives of all the birds whose company they have cultivated race around the backyard: orioles, mourning doves, hummingbirds... And petting my sweet kitty. The marine layer is in place, so we don't have perfect blue skies, just grey, but the sunlight is shining fiercely on the runner beans' leaves in the garden-- so some of them are light green, others dark, all of them bright and beautiful and full.

I am at peace in this place; full with the knowledge of the grace, mercy, and love of our Savior. At peace here like I never thought I could be four years ago, when I was being both gently pushed out towards Hillsdale and running away as fast as I could. Four years ago, just finishing high school, freewheeling in disaster and bad decisions, I never imagined how much time could mature-- well, time being the modus operandi for our Lord to work miracles of understanding, repentance, and happiness.

I don't need him for the joy of God to be in my heart. I could fully continue to live this life, and I could be at peace. He doesn't complete me. No one but God can do that. But now that I've found him, I've found someone I can trust to do the best for the two of us together, no matter how hard it may be. I respect him. I love him. I don't like living without him now. I want to be with him. I want to fight every part of my selfish, restless nature to be with him for the rest of our lives.

And that's exciting.

Chapter 25: It's 9:05 AM

We are in Phoenix Sky Harbor (which sucks because it doesn't have any McDonalds. O McDonald's! How callously we rejected you in Hawaii! How right it is that you should reject us now!) We have been thus since 5:15 AM Arizona time. We are recklessly tired and our flight leaves here in about an hour. We attempted to sleep on the plane. Sarah had a tall man behind her window seat who did not take kindly to her seat being back and kept kneeing it up. She had a bleary-old-contact-eyed staredown with him. I slept and was awake intermittently with the Twilight Audiobook playing in my ears.

We attempted to find a McDonald's after a Starbucks stop and found none. We settled for Burger King, which has disgusting "croissants", and then slept on a row of seats each. We have another three hour and change plan ride ahead of us with a handsome man in a Ford Escape at the end of it.

The moral of this story, kids, is that Hawaii is worth it. Go to college there and always fly first class on flights five hours or longer.

PS- haha. It looks like this flight gets in an hour earlier than projected... Cool. Because my ears are going nuts.

Mahalo. Aloha.

Chapter 24: Waiting and Stuff

We are sitting at our gate in the 'port. Sarah's snacking on her new love- Marilyn Harper's "granola", which is not granola a'tall but trail mix. (Apparently crazy is catching.) We both had to walk through the security rectangle of doom several times, but I was the one who was patted down by a large Hawaiian woman on account of my wire-infused unmentionables. We had the amazing luck to be in the "expert traveler" line and I felt like I abused the privilege by not realizing underwire would set it off.

In any case, we are already on the verge of slaphappy. Mom and Dad left the hotel at 7 am, which meant the necessity of Sarah and I awakening at 6:20 because we wished to say goodbye. It was a new experience for Sarah to watch Mom's last minute packing ritual and Dad's impatience dance. We listened to her instructions about the remaining food in the condo (eat breakfast and take the oatmeal) and his instructions about checking out (I already did it so just leave the keys in the room and be out by noon) and shuffled back to bed. Thus began our long and obnoxious series of wake-ups which seemed to occur every five minutes or every time we finally fell asleep again: a wrong number to our hotel bedroom for Cason Jennings from some community college, kids running around outside our window and screaming, Sarah's phone going off, a car alarm freaking out, housekeeping (who couldn't understand English, so when they cleaned my parent's room took all the food) and finally Reba McEntire singing "Why Haven't I Heard from You?" because my mom was calling to tell me they'd made it to their gate.

We spent the remainder of our time after noon in the hotel lobby reading and playing Nancy Drew. (After we'd had breakfast at a Mexican food place across the street.)

Chapter 23: Late Night Reflections

I wish that I could truly describe how I feel in this moment. Sarah and I are packing. It's 11:30 on this beautiful Friday night. I'm sitting on the floor of our hotel room in front of the double glass doors to our balcony, looking out into the dark and windy night, watching the palm trees, silhouetted, sway against the sky. It's peace itself, incarnate, as I try to create the best cradle for my sparkling wine to bring home to Michigan and Sarah, doing the same in another suitcase, talks about Lucy Ricard and her salami coming back from Europe. My ipod is playing me a gentle Genius mix in one ear of Joshua Radin, Colbie Calliat, The Fray and the like and I'm looking forward to creating my playlist for this trip, which is almost over.

Today was another calm day. We hung out at the hotel, went to a mall to procure another suitcase, and eventually ended up at a beach near mile marker 16 with a beautiful dark sandy beach. Sarah and I found its coral reef after swimming around for a while (it was amazing how shallow it stayed for so long!) and had a scare trying to come back in when we realized how far way we had ended up from shore and down the beach from our entry point. The reef where we were extended almost all the way to the shore and kicked up so much sand that we couldn't see more than a foot in front of our faces. I headed back out to deeper waters when I saw those horrible black spiny things I've feared for years chillin' in the shallow water so near me. I made it back to shore and purposed to lay out in the sun, so I traded Dad my snorkel gear dn he and Sarah stayed out for a while longer. He ended up seeing a turtle friend of his own emerging from the sand.

We went to lunch in Ma'alea at the Beach Bum something or another and were fascinated by the inappropriate sign-age, the least of which being "Eat, Drink and Remarry." We girls fell asleep on the way back to the hotel as it was so nice and warm in the Kia. When we landed back at the Shores, Sarah and I headed beach-side to bake again for a few more hours- and bake we did. Sarah got some interesting lines, one of which appears to be her headphone cord and my thighs look like Neapolitan ice cream, which I suppose is encouraging because at least they aren't still completely translucent. (Apparently it's all good though, because I'd be pretty to Patrick if my skin was tie-dyed. His words, not mine.)

Eventually we headed back in when the sun had disappeared behind the cloud bank, the bonnet on the Cabana was not keeping any rain off of us and the wind was blowing so hard that we imagined, or more accurately I imagined, that it was going to carry us off somewhere. We showered, compared ridiculous tan lines and went over and ate dinner, watch TV with the 'rents until was time to check in and pack up. (By the way, the wedding cake show we were watching is nuts- they do some crazy stuff on there and are super intense about it all.)

Chapter 22: Hunger

We were hungry and the tyrannous majority did not approve of Dad's McDonald's suggestion. So we started to drive... and ended up out of town. Dad stopped at a roadside stand bought cut sugar cane, which was tasty, and Sarah and I bought overpriced lime and mango smoothies respectively. We then turned back to town to find the Cool Cat Cafe, because Mom had a coupon. There was no parking when we did finally find it (within the Hustler's mall). So we dropped Mom off and us other three parked the car and made the trek back.

The food was good and while we ate we watched a hippie preacher across the street talking to himself. The Cafe had a fun gift ship with vintage merchandise and a giant rainbow sandal. We went downstairs again, the CCC being on level 3, and talked to a guy carving tiki posts and a lady selling sparkly wind things. Mom declared her intention of buying a shaved ice, so we stopped on the way back to the car. Sarah and I shared one- local style: vanilla ice cream on bottom followed by gummy bears and candied pineapple (?) then the shaved ice (with the flavorings tiger blood, shark's blood and sliver fox) and topped with Kahlua cream. Excellent.

The following is the conversation my mother had with the lady who was selling it when the lady asked her if she wanted the vanilla ice cream on bottom:

"What's the point of the ice cream?"

"It just tastes good."

We started eating them on the sidewalk in front of the shop and after finishing them in various shady places, went back to the hotel. The declared intention from the rents was to swim but I'm pretty sure they just watched TV. Sarah and I sunscreened up and went to lie out and read and write on the cabanas in the sun. She had a fun conversation with Joe about some hideous teddy-bears-acting-like-zombies video game and I provided horrified facial expressions. Eventually the sun disappeared behind a cloud bank and we scurried indoors to hang out, shower, eat dinner, get distracted by a merman movie, and make our way over to see Jerry again.

But Jerry was not there.

Justin was however, so a drink was had by each of us, Pau Hana Punch and a Lolo Lehua. While we were having our drinks we were apparently being stared at by two men at the end of the bar. Not surprise with Sarah in her stunning wrap pants and small top and maybe my cleavage-oriented dress helped, but I wasn't sure if they were gay or not so they may have been commenting on our fashion, not oogling.

In any case, we paid and left and explored the garden, alone, pretending to be drunk at times, purely for the freedom to speak however we wanted without the necessity of explanations and without the impressment of society's taboos of conversation topics. We ended up deciding that we wanted to stay at that hotel next time (even though we don't even know which hotel Duke's is on) and held hands as we walked home because, hey, we were in a dark alley. Came home, put in a load of laundry and slept! (We thought it was crazy that every night we slept through the wrinkle guard on the dryer going off. We were tuckered out!)

Chapter 21: Hustled

Back on the road... sidewalk... we called Dad who told us he had left Mom under the HUGE banyan tree and that we needed to find her.

She was no longer under the Banyan tree.

We looked around for a while, then called Dad to report failure and remind him that she could be in any one of the surrounding shops- and that it's difficult to find a short high-energy woman bent over a cane in the shops. He sighed and said that she did somehow lose her pain when she was shopping.

So Sarah and I squared our shoulders and continued the hunt on Dad's suggestion that perhaps she had gone into the Old Courthouse which had been converted into a gift shop and art Gallery for local artists. We crossed under the Banyan tree where tourists climbed next to the Do Not Climb sign and a hippie played his uke enthusiastically. Lo and behold as we approached the doors there was Mom, smiling, with a bag in her hand. She lured us, now careful at least, into the gallery and we enjoyed the pictures. She decided she wanted to go downstairs to the second gallery and "would only be a minute." We headed back to the car and sat in the trunk and talked to each other and Dad for a few minutes before we all, unanimously, declared hunger.

The hunt needed to be reinstated, raptor-like, Sarah and I each took one side of the courthouse- Sarah, seaside, I, mountainside, to meet up on the opposite side of the courthouse where the prison gallery was- so as not to miss her if she was coming out.

She was not. She had met one of the artists down there who was a lady from a town right near our school. As Mom continued to talk to her, Sarah and I looked around at the beautiful pictures and were startled by the sailor on a censor in the prison cell who started talking to us about how he had ended up there. A many lifetimes sentence for disorderly conduct seems a little rough to me as well. Eventually we got Mom out of the basement, but then she had to go upstairs and pay for her pickings down there. So we, not having learned our lesson, returned to the car and waited for a time. Right when we were about to make a third foray, she came into view, promising that it had just taken forever to ring her up.

Chapter 20: Hustled

We wandered through other shops, making a purchase here or there, Sarah studying some fabric and declaring it expensive, me watching this dad lightly spank this daughter out of the corner of my eye while I considered purchasing hand-crafted salt and pepper shakers.

It was then that I made our mistake. With my attention having been caught by Sales and Clearance signs, we moved into the range of the saleslady tractor beam and were instantaneously pulled in. I kept my eyes on the merchandise, muttering about how nice it was while she went on about prices in her thick Asian accent, but poor Sarah- whose habit it is to look at people when they speak to her because she is constantly lip-reading, was taken.

The woman took her to the counter and showed her shiny things which evidently she wanted her to try on because she took it upon herself to remove Sarah's necklace for her; and even tried to take out Sarah's new black pearl earrings, but did not- Sarah's theory is that the freaked-out expression on her face was enough of a barrier to action. We both were released with purchases- each a little unsure about how it all happened and each with the desire to escape the little mall and return to the light. (Although I did stop to buy a beautiful picture- while we waited we noticed wish bead bracelets: gold for money, blue for love, green for hope; pink- your choice!)

Chapter 19: Hana Highway

The first store we went into was a clothing store with fun Hawaiian prints because a pair of wrap pants had caught Sarah's eye and a pretty tie-up dress had caught mine. We hunted and compared and decided and each took out what had attracted her.

The next stop was a fun store called Crazy Shirts which was in a mall with a cinema. (Crazy shirts dyes its tees with all sorts of things- such as Ti leaves, Kona coffee and money. Interesting!) Anyways- my objective for this particular shopxploring trip was to find a t-shirt about the Hana Highway. I had indeed survived it (no puking) and actually had enjoyed it a lot and, in the true spirit of American tourism, I wanted a t-shirt! Crazy Shirts was a little expensive but lots of fun and I found what I wanted! We talked with the man working there for a few minutes about where we'd come from (cold Michigan) and how much fun we were having and he ended up throwing in two free stickers along with my discounted tee.

Chapter 18: Nothing Planned

Thursday was excellent for its calm. There was no absolute wake up time (although I got up at 6:45 anyways) and there was nowhere to immediately be once wakefulness was achieved. Sarah and I took it slow- reading and writing (no arithmetic) until Mom and Dad finally asked when we were coming over for breakfast. After breakfast and some delicious 100% Kona coffee, we all decided, and by we all I mean us three girls, that we would like to go to downtown Lahaina. Dad made some remarks about tyranny of the majority which I hushed by reminding him that in that case its the responsibility of the minority to convince the majority of its opinion and he didn't even have any ideas.

We first dropped Mom off at the Salvation Army thrift store which was on the edge of the main drag. (She reported later that everything was clean but that the store was disorganized and packed full o' stuff.) Then Dad dropped Sarah and I off across from teh beautiful BAnyan tree so we could shopxlplore and he could go read.

Chapter 17: Emergency!

The day ended tiredly- we got back to the hotel around seven at night and SArah fell asleep on the couch while I talked to my boy- falling asleep myself. (He was fine, which was pitiful, given the five hour time difference.) I had hung up with him and been asleep about fifteen minutes- out of my mind exhausted- when a horrible alarm started going off throughout the hotel. We fled our rooms- me with on sandal in my hand and an annoyed look on my face.

I, then, after we were allowed back to our rooms (the reason for the alarm being a busted water pipe) sacked out completely sans dinner and was shortly followed by Sarah.

(True to form, Mom managed to make the field trip outside productive by making an appointment for a cab to come get Sarah and I for the airport Saturday night, because they had to leave early.)

Chapter 16: Horizontal Rolly-Coaster

The next portion of road was mainly gravel and/or dirt. Still breath-takingly beautiful however. There were some amazing steep hills to go down- we pretended we were on a ride and threw our arms up and yelled woohoo and while we were going up a hill again Bruce would say "click-click- click- click" and giggle. There were some amazing potholes and dips.

Now Bruce had incredible timing. In-credible. Probably the result of over 200 trips on this road.

At one point he said, "You four in the back row must be pretty tired of it by now? NOt a lot of space. I bed you'd like to get out of those seats." When the people said, "Yeah", the van hit a dip and all four of them popped into the air like bouncy balls. He laughed and said, "See, got you out of it for a moment!"

Another time we got onto beautifully paved road and Bruce said, "Are you glad to be on paved road again? Anyone want to go back and do it again?" And a bunch of us smart alecks said yes so he said, "Sounds like a majority!" And sped up, 2 seconds later we hit gravel road again and laughed.

Our final stop before the leg back to our hotels was a winery which had delicious merchandise of which Sarah partook, bathrooms, and a pretty and soft grey cat.

Chapter 15: Bruce

It was another early-type morning, but we only had to be in front of our hotel for our bus-van to pick us up at 2:05 AM. It rolled up with Polynesian Adventure Tours scrawled across the side and Bruce inside with his jolly personality in full force.

Somehow Sarah and I had got the idea that this was a six-person tour, but by the end there were twenty of us on that bus- the four of us, eight Chinese people from San Diego, an older couple from San Francisco, an Asian couple and a family three Aussies and one Bruce the tour guide. Now, the road to Hana (and away from it) is beautiful, but this man made it fun. To the Aussies he said, "Some Kiwis got on my bus the other day and I told 'em I'd had some Australians before them. You know what they said? 'Were they prisoners?'" And the Australian man laughed and said, "I thought it was 'Baaa.'" Our first stop was technically Bruce's red truck as we stopped to pick something up, but then we were off to North Shore and a continental breakfast which Bruce said is defined as "next to nothing" on Hookipa Beach. There was a whale there at Sarah saw and beautiful roaring surf. We took pictures and I listened to Bruce and my dad talk about motorcycles. "I sold my bike because I realized I was reckless. I'd start out and be good for about a month, then I'd be on a narrow stretch of highway behind three cars and think, I can do this. Nothing can hurt me except Kryptonite! And I'd roar off and pass them and then realize... I could have died!"

We were then headed out to the Ke'aneae (Key An Eye) Peninsula where there was a church made of lava rock which had entirely survived the last tsunami except for its roof. I bought the best banana bread there and delicious coconut candy. We walked out to the water, dancing atop lava rocks and watching the fishies in the tide pools. I saw a black crab scuttling about and relished the sound of the waves crashing against the rock and the contrast between thier clear blue and the dark lava.

After Ke'aneae was the long trek to the Black Sand Beach. This was especially cool for two reasons:

1. There was a lava cave we got to duck into and take fun pictures.

2. There were mongeese. MONGEESE!

We took the short road that was the rest of the way to Hana- all the while Bruce rattling off all the information he'd gleaned about Hana and Maui, driving as fast as he could, and squeezing past cars on the tiny road.

We at lunch- 1/2 pound hamburgers, Lord help us- and were back on the road after an hour. We were headed to Oheo (O-hey!-O) Gulch aka The Seven Sacred Pools. Apparently the second name is all a marketing ploy as there are more like twenty pools and none of them are sacred. Sarah and I hiked down to the pools, she changed under her towel while I held it and then we waddled into the water which wasn't bad at all once you really dove in, which you shouldn't because there were many large rocks. And pointy ones. We swam in the first pool for a while, then limped over the rocks to the next one over where we met a waterfall... that we jumped off the side of. There was also something crouching in the rocky shadows up there which looked to be a crawdad.

We got out of the water, climbed back across the rock bridge to the bus side of the pools with the wind off the ocean doing its best to push us to our doom or severe injury and then hiked, huffing and puffing, to the van-bus.

Chapter 14: Jerry

The entire time we had been out my mother had been scuttling along the shoreline picking up stones she liked. She seemed happy with her take.

The highway right next to the beach was busy, but eventually with teamwork and split-second timing, we were back out on it and on our way home. I took some slow time to talk on the phone while Sarah tried to upload pictures and took a walk- then we had some dindin at my parents' room. It was late in the eight hour when we said goodnight to my parents and headed out to teh bar at the hotel down the road. It was there we met Jerry the bartender. He took Sarah's bent up drivers license. Here is the ensuing conversation:

"Is this a new one?"

"No."

"When's your birthday?"

"April 28th, ... 1988."

"What's your sign?"

Intense laughter, "Taurus!"

We spent a good deal of time and money there, drinking girly tropical mixes, talking, laughing and people watching. Jerry was funny and attentive and seemed to have a sixth sense or an eye in the back of his head that allowed him to know when our drinks were finished. Maybe. Both. We left after he said Last Call and walked our not even tipsy selves home and slept.

Chapter 13: Meeting the Coral Reef, Mile Marker 14

Then- hurrah of hurrahs it was time to find Mile Marker 14 which was mapped as a good snorkeling spot. We made it even after Dad turned off too early and took us to a beach section with a "Sharks are here!" sign. The water took some getting used to and the winds were fierce but what we found once we were out in it 200 yards or so from shore was well worth its while. There was a coral reef with all sorts of sea life: anemones, black fish with bright blue lines where its fins connected to its body, yellow, green and blue fish, a fish with a large pointed mouth that looked like it had buck teeth, and all sorts of other fun little guys. I always have a problem with not breathing in sea water when I'm snorkeling, but eventually I plucked up my courage and dove under about fifteen feet to where two pieces of the reef were split to make a little valley. I swam through it and a big school of fish swam out in front of me, appearing suddenly out of the reef. It was amazing- such a fun nature experience.

We went back in long enough for my add to draw us a picture in the sand of how to get of a rip tide. Sarah had been taking pictures before, but I was given the camera then and I hope with all my heart that the pictures of what came next turn out. I will put a picture next to this when they are developed if possible. I was a little farther out when something took my attention. I turned and Sarah was waving frantically at me.

I flippered over to her and found her excitement was due to a sea turtle nibbling at the edibles on the reef. We stalked this turtle for a least twenty minutes. I wondered what the turtle was thinking. My thoughts ranged from the Nsync song "Celebrity" to that maybe he was in league with a shark and was leading us to a horrible dinnery death. We lost him eventually, figured out that we were a quarter of a mile down the beach from where we started and swam back- tired and very content.

My towel was fine even though Dad had neglected it and had had to chase it down the beach as it ran from him. have I mentioned that the beaches here are really tiny? From the road or grass a lot of them can't be more than fifty feet and a lot of them are less.

Chapter 12: See's

Sarah got a call on our way back down the mountain. T'was Sees reporting to her that they had $10 over in the till and that she could come get her money back. Thanks to my excellent skills of navigation, we got there no problem and Sarah was handed her ten dollars and a pound of Sees candy for her trouble. Lunchtime at Jack in the Box was achieved after much discussion and searching.

Chapter 11: Linus and AppleJack

Tuesday started out early, but not as early as Monday. We had a new mission: Find Pony Express on Haleakala. Normally this wouldn't be an all-out expedition, but it was kind of far and Dad was still the one driving. We did take a wrong turn or two, but we still got there early. (I would have noticed before he took the wrong turn, but I was napping in Sarah's lap because I get so car sick. She noticed though... and told me very tactfully, "I think we're going the wrong way.")

We used the crazy tilting Port-A-Potties on the beautiful hillside (because who wants to have to pee while sight-seeing on horseback?), and sat and chatted with our tour guide, watching the crazy wild chickens run around. Eventually the other rider came and we were shown to our horses for mounting-up time.

Sarah first gracefully jmade friends with the back of Linus. Linus was a pretty blonde Palamino- a little man with the complex to match. He always liked to "ride shotgun", meaning second in line. He got super pissy when anyone tried to get in front of him and was a chubby boy, but his nose was soft.

I got the big boy named AppleJack. I was warned that he had a rebellious sort of attitude and liked to pick his own trail through the woods and grassy hillsides. I liked him immediately. He didn't want to move if he didn't have to and he liked to take hills as fast as possible.

Our other rider, Heidi, was on Johnny B Good or Johnny Be Bad- "any day either way" according to our guide. He was always, almost, last and was a beautiful brown. Heidi said the two of them were a lot alike.

AppleJack and Johnny had some run-ins after AppleJack had to stop for the bathroom once near the beginning of the ride. He took so long even slow Johnny passed him.

He followed okay for awhile but glimpsed his chance on a different route and very happily returned to his original place in line. It was hilarious to watch him pick his way as quickly as possible down the rocky pathway to get in front of Johnny.

We chatted about random things including but not limited to the cost of living in Maui and our tour guide's habit of dressing her bull dog. The view was beautiful and it was enjoyable to experience the difference in temperature between the grassy slopes and the shaded forest of eucalyptus. I was mostly quiet, thinking about my position- toes up, heels down- and posture- lean forward uphill, backwards downhill- or petting and talking to and encouraging AppleJack. My pictures were funny- turns out its difficult to get exactly what you want when you are, in an unexperienced manner, atop a horse's back.

Eventually we made it back, waiver unneeded, and kissed and petted our horses, receiving nuzzles and knockings in return. I liked watching AppleJack yawn after his hour and a half of toting me around "like a backpack."

Mom and Dad reported the beauty and windiness of their Haleakala Crater experience and we got lost again searching for the Enchanting Flower Gardens whose borders ended up remaining un-breached even when we did find them.

Chapter 10: Luau! Slainte!

We were greeted at the Luau by seashell lei's (again. score!) and led to our seats where we were given "free" Mai Tais and Maui Blues. The music was great and the hostess was awesome. To begin the festivities she got a bunch of people on stage and taught them a hula dance which was fun and hilarious as some people don't know how to use their hips and others really do.

The food was pretty good. Tried mahi mahi and poi, which I didn't think was that terrible, but Sarah made all sorts of face. The better part was afterwards when we went and bough our hollowed-out pineapple full of strawberry daiquiri.

The Tahitian hula began the dancing phase of the night. All of the dancing was amazing. The girls were so beautiful especially, as Sarah pointed out, for the fact that they did not have "perfectly sculpted" bodies. The men were generally tattooed and awesome fun. The guy that led us in the clap chants was a show all of his own. Somewhere in all of this we learned that flowers (for a girl) are worn over the left ear if she is married, engaged, or seeing someone seriously and over the right if she is not. "The bigger the flower, the more desperate... available she is." We laughed about that, but later, having worn our flowers over our right ear because we had thought it was left ear only when married, when we went back to the bar to refill our pineapple, the bartender looked at us for a long moment, then gave us free ($15) tiki mugs. And afterwards, we went to give hugs to some guys for being Irish (Richard the bartender and his brother- "I'm only three quarters, put us together and we make a whole!" - said to Sarah who is a quarter Irish.) and received very jolly free hugs, a kiss on the cheek, and offers to be bought Guinness or Jameson down the street at a bar called Tijuana's. We lived in the realm of possibility for a few minutes, but ultimately chose the pools and Jacuzzis of our hotel. WE talked for a long time there and in our room and eventually went to bed, exhausted.

Chapter 9: Finding the Whale and Paradise

Eventually we left Hilo Hatties and continued the Quest for Pita Paradise. Several wrong turns, a stop at another gas station, a tour of a parking lot, a blue whale, a questioning of a man in a parking lot and a short walk later, we were enjoying kabobs and pita bread.

Worth. It.

We went to the beach across the street from the bistro and played in the water, collecting washed up pieces of coral reef for a while (with Mom) and then climbed a tree near napping dad. The view was beautiful, looking out at the clear blue ocean through the leaf-covered branches of the tree. My parents cast aspersions on my tree-climbing abilities and warned me about the possibility of breaking my arm and then we drove back to Ka'anapali to rest before 5 o'clock Luau time. I chatted for a while with my handsome boyfriend on the phone and then dressed in swim clothes and a sarong to go to the unexpected.

Chapter 8: Captured by Divers

All I can say is that the Maui Divers Jewelry Company knows their stuff. We were captured as soon as we walked in-- well, right after a lady gave us a shell lei. They called us over to try a key in the lock of the golden treasure chest. Mom won, of course, and received a 50% off coupon to go "pearl diving", which translated means oyster picking. Mom went first and got a black pearl. Sarah did too. I picked out a pretty looking oyster and out popped two twin white pearls-- after the saleslady made me tap the thing three times and yell "Aloha!" We tourists are ridiculous. So, after you pick pearls, you must find a setting (if you give a mouse a cookie)... so us three girls found pretty necklace settings with the help of our sales ladies and as dad watched... until the saleslady told us we got a free second dive and we all got twin pearls. Sarah and Mom black and pink for me. Dad then excused himself with pain in his blue eyes, probably from the thought of his credit card bill for next month, and we continued our choosing spree. (He came back some time after with a book about mutual funds and sequestered himself on a bench outside.)

Mom and Sarah got earrings with their twins and so each had a nice set. I choose a beatiful wave pattern ring and fled to the shot glass section... but not before I was informed that I "had" to dive again. I'm sure I didn't have to, but I did, and received fraternal twins- blue black and purple black. I now fear to get married and have children. Those were put in a baggie and I made my escape.

Chapter 7: The Sea God, in the Biblical Sense

Sarah and I had fun taking the short hike, visiting the river, snapping pictures and making jokes. Mom and Dad had fun taking a nap in the car.

Afterwards we stopped at a McDonalds for coffee, a mall for jeans for me and Sees candy for Sarah and I and for my dad to stand in the tools section eying a slim jim with longing. Then it was time for gas and the Quest to find Pita Paradise. We asked two friendly gas station attendants and those ladies explained that we were in Kahului and P. Paradise was in Kihei, across from a blue whale. So we got back in the sub-compact and headed on down the road. There were some wrong turns and backtracking, but the biggest speed bump came when someone sighted Hilo Hattie's.

Chapter 6: Where Are Your Keys?

Monday ended with this quote by Sarah, "You know, despite the scare this morning about almost being 200 bucks in the hole, this was an amazing day."

We woke up ridiculously early for being on vacation. 4:30 A.M. We had an objective: get to the Maui Tropical Plantation in Wailuku for our ziplining extravaganza. We got up, ate breakfast with the 'rents, and laughed a lot. "Theres no time!" my dad said forcefully to my mother. I think here is where the fateful domino of events began. While my mother finished breakfast, Sarah and I and my father, pushing Mom's walker, went down to the car. As we went out some twisty thing broke off and my dad had to look for it. Already flustered, because that's how dad gets when there's a deadline for getting somewhere, he finally got to the car, unlocked the trunk with his sole set of car keys, tossed them in the trunk for safekeeping, arranged the walker in there, and slammed down the lid. Looking at the unlocked car, the closed trunk, and feeling around in his pockets, all his pockets for the sole set of car keys, and with Sarah and I standing in complete silence, Dad began to swear.

Over an hour and a half and much cursing later, we were driving to the 'Iao Valley, where a huge and costly in respect to human life battle took place. We had succeeded by phone in rearranging our zipline tour for Thursday and had changed our Thursday trail ride for the next day. So we were feeling pretty good and ready for a hike. (None of that series of phone calls ended up mattering really because we got another one Wednesday night informing us that the winds would be 50 mph the next morning and ziplines are only allowed to run on 30 or under and all remaining tours were booked and we would be receiving a full refund. Disappointing, yeah. "You're gonna write a sad poem in your journal and move on.")

Chapter 5: Meeting the Coral Reef; Ka'anapali

It's amazingly easy to acclimate to the water here. It feels so cold because of the difference between the water and the air temperature, but its really nice. We didn't actually go in (any more than up to our knees) because Sarah wasn't wearing her swimsuit and we didn't have towels, but we played around for a while, Sarah chasing waves and running as they chased her back; and went back to the craft fair. Mom finally finished, we went back to the hotel, ate lunch and then headed down to the beach of the hotel.

There is ... some sand on that shoreline; however, the spot that I picked is mostly stones and rocks. Getting out to water deep enough to swim in is kind of a painful picking game. The water was beautiful and too tempting, so Sarah, my dad and I swam out, all the while looking for patches of sand to stand on, calling out to each other when they were found. Very soon various parts of our bodies discovered the presence of a coral reef. Those are some deceptive m***s. I could stand on it without cutting my feet, but the back of my hand touched it and I suddenly had a homemade shark attractor. Sarah cut her palm as well, so we decided, after continuing to swim for a time, and with my dad's polite suggestion, to go seem Mom Nurse who was sitting on a cabana in the grass.

On the way we saw some parents watching their kids play in the surf and it was fun to warn them about the coral reef with blood running freely down my hand. And so, pressure was applied to the cut and Mom Nurse and Dad headed back to their room to read, relax and watch TV. Sarah and I stayed out talking, sleeping ,and sunning for at least three more hours, covered with towels when the sun was with clouds and not so much when it wasn't.

The rest of the night was uneventful. Peaceful. Just a walk to visit the two pools and Jacuzzis of our hotel, and then one down the road in front of the hotel, in to the back garden of another and then back down the beach and home. Ready to sleep.

Chapter 4: Island Orientation

"We do not eat until we are full or content. We eat until we are tired."

6 AM Sunday. Wake up to get to Pleasant Holidays Island Orientation at the Royal Lahiana Hotel. There we regaled with food and descriptions of different paid activities and tours by a hilarious Hawaiian woman (who said the quote above) -- and shocked to find that we had been at Maui's only nightly life the night before. It was then that Sarah learned the magnitude of my parents' gift-giving propensity. We signed up for several tours and Sarah and I got ice cream- then we went to a craft and gift fair.

Sarah was accosted by a woman selling jewelry and fascinators and was convinced to buy a very pretty one with a feather and a piece of mink fur. The man with pet coconuts almost got me, but Patrick wasn't desirous of one. I did purchase shirts and a sarong and an angel ornament made from shells sold by a man who called himself Santa and offered to give Sarah her ornament for free if she could tell him the Hawaiian word for the creature it was a likeness of- she could not. He'e. I think.

Soon though, Sarah and I were done and staring with longing at the ocean. Dad was already done and laying on the grass by the car. We left our purchases with him and the Kia Rio and walked to the water. First steps into the Pacific Ocean in Hawaii.

Chapter 3: In Which We Arrive and Are Never the Same

This flight we were more than a little antsy. But we finished Serenity, watched Old Dogs and Whip It and a short show on Oahu and Kauai, tried to sleep, listened to music, took silly pictures and videos, filled out some form and somehow, incredibly sane... sort of. We walked out of the gate into the marvelously open airport on Maui and basked in the goodness of the 80 degrees and slightly humid day.

We people watched outside on a bench after we got our bag and while we waited for our parents. There were some foreign boys trying to cross the street illegally and getting yelled at by a crossing guard, an old man picking up a lady- he was shirtless but in pretty good shape for what we projected his age to be-, and a beautiful girl in a dress. Eventually Mom and Dad showed up ("look for a small white car with an old lady in the passenger seat")- late because Dad had, in his continual quest for the scenic route to everything, had taken a wrong turn. Sarah then learned about shopping for groceries with Mom and we started the drive back to our hotel- the Aston Ka'anapali Shores, stopping in Lahaina to eat at Lulu's. My parents had already checked in and the hotel had offered a separate room for Sarah and I. A godsend considering the volume of my parents' sleeping state.

We unpacked and Mom showed us all the stuff she had brought us, including beautiful flower necklaces, matching. (We all laughed, except Mom, at this pair of white shorts with yellow stains on them that Mom tried to foist off on me.) Sleep time. Finally, after a MI start time of 6:45 AM and a HI end time of 10: 30 PM. Theres a five hour time difference. You tell me how tired we were- and yet so unwanting to go to bed. End Saturday.

Chapter 2: Lesson Learned; Judge Not

After putting back on our having been removed items of clothing, Sarah and I decide to forage for breakfast. Its 10 something o'clock and our flight doesn't leave until 11:15- we have a little time.

After we decide to go to McDonald's and are walking towards it, we see a group of three black young men dressed identically- from their black jackets and white t-shirts to their lime green shoelaces. Stunning. We coach each other not to laugh. Very quickly in line behind them, Sarah catches that the mood in the McDonalds has become very excited since these guys walked in- probably because, as we found out, they were the rap group known as Pretty Ricky. We laughed at our judgmental natures and went about our business.

We sat at the gate behind a man and a cute fluffy small dog and watched the baggage men fail. A bunch of us stared out the widow, horrified, as packages and bags fell from to the ground the top of their conveyor belt ride to the plane belly.

Soon after, we were on our way to Phoenix. The flight was mildly boring. Five or so hours of chatting, playing Nancy Drew on Sarah's computer, watching Serenity on my ipod and then came hell. We were instructed to strap in and put our stuff away and not move with a half-hour left in our flight and very unexpectedly. We had to go to the bathroom and thus tortured ourselves and each other the rest of the flight, talking about pee.

We did not pee on that plane.

We ate a brief and vaguely unsatisfying lunch in Phoenix and went to the desk at our gate to beg for our lives and sanity. My seat was supposed to be 6E. Sarah's- 32A. This could not be. A short time later, Ian Ashton had given up 6F and Sarah and I were happily sequestered on the plane. May his memory live forever.

Chapter 1: The Journey Begins

Three days ago, Saturday (March 27th), I woke up on the floor of my bedroom at school to the voice of Leonard Nimoy sining out of my ihome: the Ballad of Bilbo Baggins. Sarah looked at me as if I was crazy, but I thought it would be a hilarious way to start our spring break journey together when I was setting the alarm Saturday morning.

(Because, of course, we didn't get to sleep before about 3 AM. We had spent that evening at R House and with its gentlemen. The five of us, Andrew, Cameron, Sarah, Patrick and myself had road-tripped to Ohio for Sonic at around 4:30 PM and then gone back to their house to hang out- a standard weekend activity for all of us- and a great way to kick off spring break.)

After spending time with my amazing, kind, strong, handsome boyfriend, he took me home. I cleaned up the house a little, packed, made him a CD, and, when Sarah arrived back- walked back by Cameron (the sweet surprise who hails from LA)- we went to sleep.

The ride to the airport was difficult, even with the day having been started by Leonard. My amazing boy is a good driver, but Sarah and I were tired, even through our excitement and Untal also fell asleep in the front seat. I also stayed awake because I always feel that someone should stay awake with the driver- as as the driver was mine- I did. An hour of playing with his hair and holding his hand later and we were taking the off-ramp to the South entrance of the Detroit airport... but the freeway to it was all backed up, so Patrick- on the off-ramp- backed up and got back on the freeway. Several exits down the road we are in the aiport, bags have been moved, CD given, a kiss goodbye and Patrick is gone and Sarah and I are watching Andrew try to manage 2 roller bags which he refuses help with.

Okay. Sarah and I go check in and get in line for security. It's not too bad a wait and the guy checking our IDs is a sweet older man who tries really hard to get everyone's name right. Apparently mine- Harper- is a sweet respite after Sarah's- Kavaljian.

The Chronicles of Maui

*I'm going to be posting the play-by-play of Spring Break that I wrote while Sarah and my parents and I were in Hawaii. You'll have to start here and work your way through if you want to understand the time line, but they'll all be up here.*

Introduction:

It's Tuesday morning on Maui. A little before 7 AM, I'm sitting on the balcony of our hotel room in my pjs-- not cold at all. Clouds move quickly across a fantastically blue sky, as they always seem to do here. The beauty of the place is not marred by them.

Our room has a view of the garden- lush and packed with tropical plants. A small stream surrounds the colorful paradise which holds a pool and a hot tub. IF I stand in the Northeastern corner of the balcony, I can see the Pacific.

It's Paradise.

Joy- even in the Winter

It does not go well with me when I've been in Michigan too long, it seems. I lose perspective. I lose my temper. I lose any color my skin manages to pick up while I'm home. It's so... obnoxious to be 21 years old and still such a child in so many ways.

To not be able to put into words the feelings of my heart. To not be able to focus, even on things that are important for as long as I should. To hurt people I love accidentally. And to cry when I see the hurt in their eyes.

It's like the coldness of the winter world encroaches upon my soul, and ever so slowly, makes me as it is. It's despicable. It's horrendously painful. And it's so tiring.

I wish there were more things to blame on other people sometimes; however, your attitude is your choice, and absolutely you choose to let it be dictated by the actions or words of others.

You have a Joy that cannot be brushed away or removed or taken from you by anyone on earth. That should be our overriding quality then-- a joy which transcends understanding and situation and our own petty desires.