Budget Travel, Island Getaways

I've been putting on air miles, despite my ridiculously small paycheck. Hit up Maui for a roller derby bout, then flew to the Big Island the next weekend for a little rest and relaxation. No regrets. Soaked up the beautiful beaches and tropical settings. Saw naked fire dancers at a nudie beach in Maui near Kihei, stole (oops! borrowed) towels from the Hilton on the Big Island to gain access to their immaculate wonderland of water features and what I deemed "White Privilege" (hey... it was mostly rich white folks getting sunburned. What can I say?)

Island-hopping is very similar to landing on different planets. I have concluded that the Big Island is a lot like Mars... Kauai, much like a planet containing Jurassic Park. Maui I didn't see a whole lot of, but it seems to be a country version of Oahu. Minus the garbage. Wow, Oahu is dirty. If Oahu were a planet, it would be where all the other planets throw their trash. All of the canals that drain from the mountains to the ocean are lined with debris ranging from mattresses to construction lumber, abandoned tires to microwaves. Discarded crap litters the sidewalks throughout the city. Of course, where there is trash, there are rats and roaches. You see the grotesque element. It's the most disheartening part of Honolulu, but I suppose unavoidable. Cost of living is high and so is the cost of large specialty item trash removal. I remember it costing my landlord $300 to have the roach-infested couch removed from our lanai back when I lived in Palolo. Man! You could buy a new couch for that! Sometimes it's advantageous to stroll a few blocks away from home and seek out abandoned book shelves... but for the most part, it's just a sad state of affairs. I just heard a terrible tale about the Ala Wai canal the other day that I won't even go into... but basically, it's toxic soup.

All in all, I've seen a lot since moving to Hawaii and have had some amazing adventures. I've acquired a taste for sushi, have effectively mastered the bus system, seen three islands, basked in the sun at multiple beaches, seen rainforests of bamboo, waterfalls... yeah. It's a pretty awesome place to explore. I do miss "weather," though. No thunderstorms, and very few heavy rainfalls. It gets boring to always have it be sunny or misting. I get bored with monotony. It is true in the career field and it is true in my living environment. Things get too comfortable and... BAM!! I need a change. I'm not a nomad, really, but I like to shake things up a bit. I suppose that's where Oscar the dog comes in...

Oscar is a little bit of a drama queen. Since he's arrived, he has done his part to remain the center of attention. Not always in a good way. While I was visiting the Big Island, he started a fight with an off-leash dog that looked his mirror-image, which to his credit wasn't entirely his fault since he was on-leash. He has continually menaced all neighboring dog-walkers protecting their toy breeds. He doesn't seem to understand what I'm doing when I have to weave between parked cars so that he doesn't see the Bichon approaching. It's kinda out of control. I walk him plenty every day and he certainly has his 'Breed Embassador' moments, but I just can't seem to break him of that small animal prey drive. Last week he tried to fit my new roommate's cat in his mouth. I had to pry his jaws off of the poor thing. I think it was a traumatic but necessary initiation for both the new roommate and the cat... but I don't want it to happen again. I am going to start looking for a personal trainer to help me gain control over my powerful and completely obnoxious canine. Maybe Cesar Milan will make a trip here to work with the animal kingdom in my apartment. To date, we now house 5 cats and 3 dogs. It's gotta be breaking the health code, but I'm not saying a word. Apartment hunting for a place that allows a big dog is just too hard.

What You Cannot Predict

Sometimes, no matter what you do and how cautiously you prepare for disaster, you have to confront the biggest fear of all: not having control over others.

One of my two new roommates dragged his mattress out of his room into the parking lot this morning. After less than a minute, I knew why, and I wasn't very happy about it. You see... this roommate found this "free" mattress a few weeks before moving to the new apartment. He had been sleeping on it for over three months. It was to my dismay that he just NOW discovered it was INFESTED WITH BEDBUGS.

Yeah, I've seen it all now.

He had bites like a rash all over his back and arms, and was sad when I told him that he would need to do a hell of a lot more than just remove his mattress to get rid of them. "Oh, really?" he asked innocently... YES. Remove the box spring, too. YES, the bedding, and YES, the memory foam you had on top of the mattress that you cannot possibly wash. YES, you need to go to the store and buy a bug bomb and some spray and whatever else they have. NO, spraying the carpet down with Windex is NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

This roommate is a great living example of why you should never smoke pot.

Several days later, I discover bed bugs in MY carpet. Fuck that. Roommate confrontation. Get the bug bombs. We're blowing the place.

I'm happy to report that one week later, after I have bombed, vacuumed and shampooed my carpet, diligently changed my sheets once a day and after countless hours of lost sleep worrying about every little tickle on my skin, I have not seen a live bug in my room.

I will say that I think I prefer the occasional flying cockroach over bedbugs. Happily.

Confronting Fear

Sometimes a girl just wants to be saved.

Yes, that sure would be nice... my prince in shining armor, gallantly sweeping me off of my feet, off to his enchanting palace, happily ever after. Tralala.

While I wait for Prince Charming, I'm taking steps towards self-improvement. Demons from life's disappointments have a way of haunting you. I have decided to stop running. They will follow me everywhere. I will always fear abandonment so as long as I let it scare me. If you never walk forward, you will remain in the same place.

This month, the month of March, I have become my own brave warrior, true to my name. I have pulled myself up by the bootstraps and begun a very scary journey to unearth all that has prevented me from growing.

I find it amusing when people criticize self-help books. Are they afraid of them? Are the books a threat to themselves? To their own fears? I am not afraid of books. Every time I read one, no matter how terrible, I learn something. Sometimes I learn I hate the writing style or the author. Sometimes I fall in love with characters. Sometimes I learn the truth. As I trollop through the Summer of my existence, I am entering a spiritual forest of books. They wait mysteriously in Barnes & Noble, the sign 'Self Help' looming above, customers' eyes leering sideways glances at me as they scurry past the aisle... but I'm not afraid of books. I'm afraid of admitting I have some hurdles to jump on my way to happiness. I'm afraid of other peoples' judgment, and I'm not even sure why.

Each day is a struggle to remain centered and conscious in my present state. I can't dwell on my old life, but when I lost my phone early in the month on the derby trip to Seattle, I lost a piece of my past. It was a devastating blow. I didn't see it coming. Sprint doesn't save your contacts, so when that phone was lost on the side of a freeway during a drunk derby girl potty break, I lost every connection I had. One fell swoop. I lost numbers of family, good friends, old friends, new friends. I lost every contact from Minnesota. I lost my safety net of fallback numbers to call when I was extremely lonely. At the closing of this month, new phone in hand, I realize how important that safety net was to me. I am feeling very alone, and have only a handful of numbers in my replacement phone. They are mostly local derby girls and immediate family members. I have recovered the real network that I have in my existence, rid of the entries that were never truly there for me... but because I could see them in my phone, I thought they existed. I have now accepted that those lost contacts are gone. I see those people on Facebook and know that they are shells of my past, and no longer a part of my present. I hate it. I hate knowing that I lost friends. Not maliciously, not because of something bad, but because I made a huge choice; I left. I have to sleep alone and I have to eat alone. I have to spend entire nights alone. I have a dog and an ipod, a laptop and a radio. I have internet and I have family that loves me. I have less old friends than I thought, and they are far away. I have new friends that I barely know and of whom I rarely see. I have a hobby that consumes 4 nights a week, and a job that I have given up on. I have no plan for future and am starting to accept that I have abandoned my past.

Now is the time to get to work on what has held me back, what scares me, what causes me anxiety and sadness, what that barrier is that causes my relationships to fail, where my passions lie, what to pursue in life, what it is about myself that I can improve.. to grow into the best person I can be. Really. Self is all you can fix. I can't control other people's actions, and I can't make a person love me. I can love myself and create a happy existence for myself, and along the way find hope that I will conquer my fears.

Now is the time.

Tonight I'm going to dinner and a movie alone for the first time in my life.

Bronchitis in Paradise

That's right, folks! It's possible to be miserable in paradise. This time it isn't nuclear-proof insects and money woes... it's good old-fashioned GERMS!

Thanks to a lovely Minnesota cold brought over on the plane by my mother dearest, I have spent the past three weeks coughing my guts out! Today I broke down and went to the doctor, who immediately prescribed me antibiotics and codeine, and then demanded I return on Monday so he could be sure I was improving. Apparently I make doctors nervous. Hahaha!

Well, if he had known how I flew on a red-eye to and from Seattle this past weekend to play three games of roller derby in the Wild West Showdown tournament against teams ranked in the top 20 of the nation, he may not have let me leave the hospital... but I have a season opener tomorrow, dammit, and I'll be damned if I roll over and let the Villians take home a victory!
Tonight Oscar (my trusty sidekick and dogge extraordinaire)accompanied me to "First Friday" in downtown Honolulu, Chinatown, where we flyered up and down the streets to promote derby despite losing our venue a few nights ago. Apparently not many people take too kindly to roller derby in Hawaii, and even though the military was doing their best to cater to us, they got word from above that we breached security code by being on the premises, and were told we may no longer play or practice there. :( BUMMER!!

But in light of true roller derby spirit, the show must go on.

So.

Back to duking it out for practice time with the Hawaii Kai outdoor Roller Hockey league. They've been pretty generous with us, but I don't know how much longer our league can support itself without being able to charge admission. Sigh.

Derby is the main drama in my life now, as work obstacles fade in importance and I decide to move away from caring about the future of the program I've been trying so hard to sustain. Some things just aren't meant to be, and sometimes energy just shouldn't be wasted. So I comply with their demands and bide my time, serving my sentence, debating what step I should take next. I should probably start thinking about that.

Oscar certainly fills my void when it comes to love and affection, and I've been having a pretty good time relaxing after a visit from my parents. It was great to see them, but their departure marked the end of almost two months of nonstop visitors and entertaining. WHEW!!! They aren't kidding about "tourist season!" I will go home for a visit in June and it will be a good break from consistent weather... but until then, I'm lapping it up.

Ahh. *Cough*

Hawaii Punishes Pet Owners

I love animals. I love my dog. I love that other people are as into pets as I am. They are loyal companions and excellent roommates that never bitch at you for forgetting to buy toilet paper or coming home late. They will patiently cross their legs for ten hours when you have to work a crazy double shift, and they are always happy to see you.

I relocated to Hawaii to be a volunteer for an accredited governmental program assisting the war on poverty. I make less than minimum wage and qualify for food stamps. I am rewarded for my service to America and my relocation to another state with incredulous amounts of paperwork and a 4 month waiting period in order to bring my dog along, with bucketloads of stress to find affordable housing in my meager price range that allows him. Affordable housing is hard enough. Figure in a 50 lb dog and a poverty level budget, and you have yourself a challenge. Getting him here is yet another.

Hawaii animal control says that this system is in place to keep Hawaii a "rabies-free island," which I do not refute. I have no problem with their need to keep rabies off the island. What I DO have a problem with is making someone like myself, who has ALWAYS kept my dog's vaccinations up-to-date, go through as many hoops as a zoo animal trafficker from Africa. They make it nearly impossible with confusing paperwork trails and deadlines, blood samples, restrictions and fees. My pet must be current on all vaccinations to fly, which certifies that my dog does not have, nor has ever been able to have, rabies. Since he has always been current, he is vaccinated against contracting rabies. Why must I have bloodwork done, then, which takes 4 months to process, and costs hundreds of dollars? It makes no sense. Add that to the administrative processing fees, vet fees for completing paperwork and flight costs, and I'm looking at over a thousand dollars to bring my dog over. I'm doing it because he's worth it to me... but come on. Is all of this really necessary, or is the state making some serious money off of my compromised situation? I see it as an unfair tax on compassionate pet owners who don't want to give up their pets just because they're relocating. Instead, they should be thanking me for keeping him out of the pound and attributing to the homeless animal crisis.

Hawaii is not unlike any other state when it comes to its population regarding animals as "disposable." A gifted puppy for xmas turns into #1024 at the pound by summer, and thousands of "pets" are euthanized yearly. One main difference that I am enormously aware of with Hawaii, however, is an intolerance for pets in rental properties. This problem for pet owners is not unique nationwide, but in Hawaii, where most rental properties are owned by investors (most who don't even LIVE on the island), pets are not allowed. Period. If there is a rare exception, the pet must be under 25 lbs, which limits rentals to owners of chihuahuas, other small breeds, and cats. Why landlord investors think a chihuahua or a cat is less of a threat to their investment than a golden retriever, I cannot possibly understand. They can wreak just as much havoc, bite just as many people, bark just as much... or be just as innocent. It has a lot more to do with the owner and how they manage their pet (this runs parallel to discrimination that bully breeds and other working-class dogs face. I won't even go into Breed Specific Legislation and blatent discrimination against how a dog looks). Not allowing pets is open discrimination against pet owners.

Medium to large dog owners like myself are constantly threatened by the ending of a lease. Not having a pet-friendly rental lined up within a month (you just can't find one sooner) could mean that I must either smuggle my dog onto the premises and risk eviction, rehome him (if I'm lucky) or give him up to a local shelter. Many distraught pet owners must face the sad reality of discarding their beloved pet like trash in order to avoid being homeless, dumping Fido at the shelter. Some take the chance of having their pet find a new owner by setting them "free" into a park in hopes someone that can will take them home. It's absolutely horrifying to think about having to give up my dog. I don't even want to consider it as an option.

Thanks, Hawaii, for making pet ownership hell.

My Soul Is a Calm, Blue Ocean

The tide has receded, and the surf has subsided. Amidst the beach foam and fallen branches, the storm that has passed leaves me with feelings of relief, sublimation and catharsis. I'm a survivor, and my nightmare of a living situation has almost come to a close.
I have a new place lined up for February that will allow Oscar to come join me that borders Queen Lili‘uokalani Garden, complete with a swimming pool and a bbq area with a natural waterfall. I will be able to cook in my kitchen without bumping elbows with my roommates (the new ones don't cook), and I will no longer have to bear termites, roaches, mice and rats. I have a ten block walk to Chinatown and a clear head. I have a renewed sense of optimism that I have made the right decision in coming to Hawaii, and a light heart about taking back my dog. Perhaps now I can start to enjoy the weather.
I will, however, be a lot poorer. My rent has gone up by $150 extra a month, which will cause a considerable financial strain. Luckily, I have stuck with the new year's resolution of not drinking and have cut back on extracurriculars with the departure of my visiting mainland friends. I forgot how easy it was to spend money when friends are around. Eek!
We had our Sk808 Derby Tournament earlier this month, and I think it was a very well orchestrated success. I came out unscathed and landed some nice hits... and though I was a part of the team that took last place, we had a lot of fun and fought til the end. My favorite play was when I was in as a jammer... I avoided a four girl pileup by jumping over the mass, and went on to score four points. Man. I wish I had a photo of that. I keep playing it over and over in my head. I love those moments. They remind me that I don't always fall down.

Looking forward to February when mom, dad, and the dog come. Hoping to live as frugally as possible until then.

On that note... I'm looking for a sponsor for my acupuncture treatments. I just can't cut the $35 a week price tag. Any suggestions?

Ancient Chinese Secrets

It was my New Year's resolution to myself: Find an alternative treatment for migraine prevention and make it happen.

I'm so sick of migraines. They have plaqued my existence since high school and are dehabilitating. I lose sleep, I spend days in a daze, I lose jobs, I lose out on social events, I suffer in silence and cry myself to sleep. I lose boyfriends. I lose patience. I lose self-esteem. I lose my lunch. To my credit, my migraines aren't always caused by alcohol. I just know that was the case in this instance.. but really, I can have a bad run of insomnia or work-related stress and end up on my back just the same. Should I live my life in a protective bubble, staying in on New Year's Eve to do yoga, going to bed at 10pm after chugging a gallon of water? Maybe. But... do I like to take risks?

Haha... Yes =)

I occasionally gamble. On January 1st and 2nd, I lost.
New Year's Eve was fantastic. The migraine was equally... fantastic.


Our evening started on a tame note and ended with my visiting friend from MN cooking breakfast in a penthouse for a bunch of drunken people. Without really breaking it down into specifics, the evening was entertaining to say the least and involved fireworks going off like it was Armageddon throughout the city, multiple swanky venues and interesting people, some crazy fake mustaches, sobercab chauffeurs, VIP status, and oh yes... a penthouse overlooking the entire glittering city of Honolulu. I never know what will happen here. I don't know why I'm still surprised. I should just expect adventure around every corner.

We left the penthouse as the sun began to rise and walked back to the condo that we've been fortunate enough to stay in for the past week, and that's when the trouble really began. I did have some descretion in my drink choices and attempted to make proper decisions, but without prescription medication, I was ill-equipped and in a bad spot. "It's just a hangover," people tell me... but they don't get MY hangovers. Add up all of the triggers... an alcoholic beverage (it only takes one sometimes), dehydration, sleep deprivation, stress.. and you have my moltov cocktail ingredients for one whopper of a migraine. It lasted for 2 1/2 days, ending only by the grace of... ancient Chinese secrets.

Now it really gets interesting.

After the first initial day of "hangover," including a drive to the North Shore that I couldn't get out of (and a horrible night's sleep that was really just me silently gasping in horror at the condition of my throbbing brain), I allowed my good Minnesota friend to guide me into Chinatown. I was desperate. Acupuncture was my last resort before going to the ER. I hate shots of Demerol and the hours of waiting, so I thought a few hundred needles in my forehead--or maybe a lobotomy--would be better. I could barely see. I was blinded by pain. We arrived, and after a little fuss, I was put in the back room behind a curtain. I have no idea what happened to my good friend. I think she wandered around Chinatown in search of a casket.
I remember them asking me some questions, and me mumbling something like "migraine, pain, help." I think they got the picture. My eye was running, teeth clenched, my brain close to exploding, and they probably thought I might kill them if they didn't subdue me. Then I was on my side facing a white wall. I was at their mercy. The needles were pricked into the top of my head, along my hairline, into my temple, down my neck, down my spine, around my shoulder blade, into my wrists. I don't know how many. I didn't even feel them. I honestly felt like being hit over the head with a club would have helped take the edge off.

Next, I received a special Chinatown surprise. I don't even know if this is legal...

Each tiny needle had a tiny wire clamped onto it. Pulses of electricity tapped away in code. I imagined them sending my brain SOS signals.. or waving tiny white flags. I lay motionless on my side through this process, for every shift of my jaw or brow sent horrible pain into my temple. I was a little scared to move. An egg timer went off after what seemed like a long time, and the next phase began.
Wires were removed, and "cupping" therapy began. Oh my!! Hollow glass "cups," the size of baseballs, round and smooth and clear, were heated, dipped in alcohol, then suctioned all over my neck and back. I am fortunate to have a high pain threshold. I felt like I was being attacked by an octopus (or maybe a junior high boy with bad aim). I lay there, still in pain, until the next egg timer went off. The cups were removed, and a soothing ointment that I can't pronounce was laquered onto my back and neck. I am certain it was liquid vicodin. It felt great. I bought some for the road.

An hour later, this whole debacle was over and I was paying for my treatment. I still had the headache, though now I could see straight and I didn't want to kill. I was to come back in a few days for a second treatment (because chronic migraines take several treatments). As a consolation prize to remind myself of how much fun I was having, the Cupping therapy left gigantic bruises all over my back. I look like a torture victim. I'm a derby girl, yet ashamed. I gotta say... they're kind of hard to explain. At least with derby, I can just say, "I play roller derby." How do I explain a back full of perfectly symmetrical, baseball-sized bruises?

I learned a lot about Chinatown that day, especially these two lessons:

#1: Ancient Chinese Secrets will be disclosed to you IF you don't ask questions and IF you are brave enough to go back several times, and
#2: Don't purchase bananas from the first vendor you see.

I've had two treatments now and will need to go back in another week. If I remain migraine-free for over a week, I can slowly go up to receiving these treatments once every other week, then every three, then four, and so on. If that happens, I will be paying 1/4 the price of western medicine co-pay and prescription costs, which makes a big dent in my monthly budget. Just imagine. me... MIGRAINE-FREE!!

It's good to take risks. Even when you end up blind in Chinatown.

ps. In other news, my EBT card stopped working for a few days and then started again, and the house in which I reside is now being auctioned off. Surprise!!

The adventure continues.