Saturday, November 27, 2010

Hawaii Update

Edits made below in fancy colors so if you already read it you can skip to the parts you haven't read.

I can barely type this as I am hungover like whoa and LSU is motherfu*!#ing losing to Arkansas on a end of half play by Ryan Mallet that just...gahhhhhhhhh.

Anyway, I thought you all might appreciate a quick update on our island adventures. Um. There aren't really any. Well, okay, here's what happened: my brother isn't here because he got sick and was ordered not to fly. I actually feel bad for him. I have thus spent three straight days with my mother and my stepdad and sort of wanted to kill them most of the time. It wasn't particularly fun. I haven't even swam in the ocean yet! And right now I'm, well, hungover in my room watching football. When the game is over I'll rectify that.

On Wednesday we arrived here, took naps after snacking at the Cheesecake factory and went to late dinner at the amazing Duke's. Went to bed early because we were all exhausted.

Thursday we woke up and went to breakfast at this place my mom likes. My dad and I have this thing about waiting an hour for eggs: don't. They're fucking EGGS. Give me $4 and I'll make you my own in fifteen minutes. So that wasn't fun. At all. Except that the food was actually good. And everyone here is so fucking friendly. SO FRIENDLY. It's hard to be pissy when the waiter is all like, "How's it hanging brudda?" So the food was good. But I WAITED AN HOUR FOR FUCKING EGGS! 

We went to the pool that afternoon where my mother had a wee bit of a meltdown. And I almost got in a fight wanting to punch the guy at the pool bar, where I ended up fortuitously for the last five minutes of the Saints/Cowboys game. Dude says, "I was just in New Orleans. That place is a shit hole. I'm never going there again!" Ohrly? It is? Did you go to Port of Call and Irenes and Frenchman Street or did you just drink flavored sugar water rum at Pat O's you giant douche? Fuck you. About ten minutes later he would say, "Yeah, I'm from Dallas. I hate the Cowboys, I'm not a fan at all, but I'd like them to spoil everyone else's season." Well. There you have it. THat just about explains everything about you, doesn't it? Douche.

And then to dinner buffet at the Royal Hawaiian. That was tasty and fun. We again called it an early night, the time change screwing with us, and woke up early Friday. Oh, also: I worked out. In the gym. On Thanksgiving. I figure this is good for the stupid amounts of mai tais I will drink this week. I also almost got in an altercation leaving the gym. Some people are island people. Some aren't. I'm guessing all these asshat tourists aren't. I'm getting onto the elevator when man moseying the fuck off it gets in my way. I happen to catch the corner of his foot on my way to make the already open elevator. I mumble excuse me but he doesn't hear this apparently. As the door's closing he says, "Well EXCUSE you." Fuck you, asshole, I SAID excuse me. You were the one in the way! Kind older southern lady on the elevator asks what that was about, I explain and she says in her amazing drawl, "We could take him." Ha! Thanks! Mom says after those two events that apparently I can't go out in Hawaii by myself. 

I had one thing I wanted to do here: go to the USS Arizona memorial. Because I'm a military nerd. This was MY thing. My stepdad totally hijacked it the second we got there. In fairness, he is also a military nerd. He's like a lifetime member of the WWII/D-Day Museum in New Orleans. And my mom wanted to go to the mall that afternoon. I had told her I didn't want to do both in the same day but this was vetoed. Anyway, we go to Pearl Harbor and I'm feeling rushed and we go to the USS Missouri and take a tour but then have to rush back on the bus to get back to our shuttle boat for the USS Arizona memorial. I don't like being rushed. I wanted to enjoy the USS Mo more. I'm about to lose it, but quietly and thank god for smart phones so I can tell others of my dilemmas. Then: Twist! It's too windy. They can't shuttle people over to the USS Az anymore. So I don't even get to go. GAH! But we go back on the bus and head to the Pacific Aviation Museum which wasn't impressive and I'm starting to loosen up because *spoiler alert!* I LOVE planes! I am later not bothered by this because someday I will be admiral of the Pacific Command and can go to Pearl Harbor whenever I want. So there. 

So anyway, in the midst of my text message bitching with my dear friends, I finally had enough yesterday and decided it would be a BNBD night and I would loosen up. We go to the mall, which ended up, despite being the mall the day after Thanksgiving, pretty fun. There's a restaurant at the mall that overlooks the ocean. And a Mai Tai bar in the middle of the bar mall. Life could be worse. And I spent a ton of money I don't have on stuff at Macy's. But tax here is only 5% as compared to the 9.5% in CA so really I'm saving money. On stuff I don't need. Whatevs.

Mom wants to go to Roy's that night, I need a shower, I get all dressed up because I am going out tonight! BNBD baby! (For the uninitiated that is the acronym for Booze and Bad Decisions, something has evolved from conversations with my stepsister and I. It is both a horrible horrible misguided rallying cry and an excuse for the feelings the next day. It started by me saying, when extremely hungover, "OMG I smell like booze and bad decisions.") Mom calls and says she's not feeling well, she's gonna stay in. But I'm dressed. But now I lack courage. It's HARD being a girl! Going out by yourself is scary. But I text and look for courage from my usual posse of folks and head downstairs to the hotel bar where after two mai tais I have a little liquid courage. The bartender, apparently recognizing that I'm alone at a bar, gives me a list of Chinatown bars that he says are awesome and full of locals and not stupid Waikiki bars. Because Waikiki is like Fisherman's Wharf. Very few locals places there. But a cab? To go to bars where I don't know anyone? This sounds sketchy. So I head to the one bar I swore earlier in the day to the adorable girls at the jewelry store mentioned when I asked where to drink that I wouldn't go to. A bar so awful, so fratastic Jersey shore debauchery that even undergrad me would have eschewed it. A bar...just...I have no words. Senor Frogs. God help me I was at Senor Frogs in Waikiki. I have never been so convinced I was going to be date raped at a place. It's totally date rapey there. Thank god it was early and I'm a girl so that the bouncer let me bypass the $10 cover because that would have just been more than I can handle.

I sat at the bar, made friends with the one adorable bartender, texted my step sister, drank her special cocktail (bicardi limon and tonic, which I changed to soda). And then made friends with a bunch of short Air Force guys who were in town for one night on their way to Guam tomorrow. (Ohhhh and why were they were going to Guam from Travis all of a sudden in the midst of Thanksgiving? I wonder...) At this point I'm beyond just liquid courage and into liquid stupidity. So yeah. There *may* have been some drunken dancing to bad pop music in Senor Frogs. There may have been some making out with an Air Force guy. And I have no idea how my directionally challenged self managed to make it back down Waikiki to her hotel but I did it.

And now I am hungover and useless and even typing the word mai tai makes me want to throw up a little. Thank god for a) room service and b) Dr Pepper available in the lobby of my tower at this massive hotel.

Now if only LSU can figure out how to beat the freaking Hogs...

LSU fucking lost which is all sorts of annoying but that's okay Imma go eat some Kalua pork for dinner and imagine it's tasty Razorback. Also, in my hour at the pool I had the following conversation with my mother:

Mom: There was a girl out here earlier who had an Oklahoma Longhorns shirt on.
Me: Oklahoma Sooners or Texas Longhorns. There is no Oklahoma Longhorn.
Mom: Whatever. I don't know. It was orange and had horns on it. 
Me: Texas Longhorns. 

You think in all my years of college football fandom something would have rubbed off on her but nooooo. At least she supports me watching it all day in my hotel room. And okayed my hungover ass ordering a burger from room service. $18 burger. Plus $12 room service delivery charge. Now the most expensive burger in the history of eating burgers. But she said it was cool. Nom nom nom nom. 

1 comment:

  1. Holy Jeezus! That's some crazy shit. I mean it. A $30 burger? Sheesh!

    I'm still trying to figure out how you survived Senor Frogs!