Goodbye Global Village. Sad day.

I'm glad I got to help them say goodbye a little.

Want to see a human brain?

In another installment of how my job can be substantially cool sometimes, look! Thanks to the nuns for letting us hang at their convent and the brain for letting me look at it with my camera.

I have the coolest job ever.

Got to edit and help shoot this piece of awesome.

My smile hurts.

And it hurts because I have been using it so much lately. Last night my friend Michael left me the best voicemail I have ever gotten in my life and I keep listening to it over and over. No less than 10 accents were used and it's 1:14 of pure hilarity and joy.

It just makes me so happy! It'll make you that happy too.

This may be an overshare.

I hate first kisses. They're awkward, they never work out, they make people so nervous they shake all over and drop things, when they don’t happen it’s disappointing, when they do happen it sometimes is still disappointing, and there is just no way – NO WAY – to make them happen smoothly. And if you tell me there is, then all I have to say to you is "It's nice to meet you Hugh Grant, may I have your autograph?".

(What I’m saying is, perfect first kisses only happen in the movies, people.)

Case and point. My first boyfriend and I went three months without kissing, and it's not like I was a bashful 12-year-old...I was 17. All of our friends knew about it and the anticipation built up so much that I would literally hurl my body out of his car and run to the house at full speed to avoid the awkwardness of the "thanks, I had a good time" conversation followed by anticipatory looks. Finally after three months I offered him a kiss on the cheek to which he said no, sending a shock through my entire system and making me stand there, stiff, outside of the car not knowing what to say or do. "Well can I kiss you on the mouth?" he said. "NO!" I said. Then he said fine, I could kiss him on the cheek, and when I went in for the innocent cheek kiss he turned his head at the last second to try to steal a full-on smooch, thus resulting in a complete disaster of him missing completely and two sides of lips mashing together and quickly being retracted back to their rightful place while looks of horror stretched across both our faces.

The slightest slip! There merest mishap! The tiniest tip of the head!

And it is ruined.

I know what you're thinking. Of all of these terrible situations I've been in, and there have been many, what’s the common denominator? It's me. I know. I get this. But I swear it’s not my fault. Almost all the dudes that have had the pleasure of my smooch have pretty much ruined the first one by missing, being too awkward, making terrible jokes, doing a bad job, or once – I even got the dreaded mom kiss. You know, the full-lipped completely non-sexual mom smooch. And I, at 24, still have as much difficulty with the first kiss as I always have. It just makes me shudder to think of all the ways it could go wrong, and to touch your lips to someone else’s for the first time seems like the ultimate showing of bravery to me. A bravery of which I have not yet conquered.

I feel bad for the kindly gentleman that I recently went on a date with. You would think after 11 hours of PG fun including the museum, batting cages, dinner, a live show, and a movie, the poor kid deserved one measly kiss when he walked me up to the front door. But what did he get? A handshake, an "I had a good time" and me staring at the ground until I awkwardly slow-motioned walked into the house. Sorry pal. It's not you – it's that I'm traumatized by the world’s eight to ten most awkward situations anyone has ever been in.

But the thing is – I think there's a solution. If you have to deal with people like this (like me), the best thing to do is sneak attack them. Get it over when they least expect it. You spare them the anticipation, the nervousness, the shakiness, and you will have officially gotten them over the hump. You will have allowed them to avoid being terrified about it, and you can both hopefully tell your kids about it someday.

And then mom smooch them afterward.

Goo goo goo goo!

One thing about Hawaii is that everywhere you go there is soft, indistinguishable Hawaiian elevator music playing. Our hotel played this one song on repeat in our hotel outdoor lobby, where we spent a good amount of time planning our day trips. At first the music is kind of nice, but when you fall asleep with it relentlessly burning in your ears, it gets to you.

Here is our take on one considerably terrible tune that would not escape our brains.

Hawaii!

I went to Hawaii last week! I really did. Here's every single detail about my entire trip, complete with pictures.

Excerpt from my journal, written in airport on the layover to Hawaii: "Mohalo! And by this time next week I hope to be able to tell you what that actually means. My Guess? Welcome, or something, because 'Aloha' clearly means hi."

(As it turns out, Mohalo means thank you.)

Here is a preview for you.



Ok so before I tell you anything, I need you to know that my hotel was only $62 per night. That's right. $31 for each person a night. SHAZOOM! But it was definitely not that nice. Here is a picture of it. Just know that we didn't spend a lot of time there, minus staying in and watching the Oscars on Sunday night.

Getting to Hawaii wasn't exactly the way I had imagined it. First of all, we definitely did not get lei-ed in the airport. We actually walked around the entire outside of the airport before we found the cab station. We were offered a limo but I opted for a gigantic van instead, which was a bit of a mistake because we got stuck in rush hour traffic thus resulting in a $40 cab ride in which at one point our practically mute driver, while driving, opened the cab door, leaned out the door, and hocked a gigantic loogie right on the road.

We drove by this park along Waikiki Beach, but this shot was taken the next day when it was much more beautiful and wondrous outside. Our cabbie took us through seemingly the worst part of town where everyone who saw us scowled in our general direction and to make matters perfect, it was raining and cold.

Yes, those are old folks doing forward bends.

Let's move on. After finally getting to our hotel, we took a soak in the hot tub (which was to be my only dip in the hot tub for the rest of the trip......foreshadowing!) which made us feel infinitely better and after a dinner of burgers and drinks at Kelly O'Briens we crashed hard, jet lagged and a bit deflated from our horrible cab ride in.

Excerpt from my journal on day one: "Aloha! Ok first thing's first - I'm burned. We spent six hours in the sun today and I covered myself in sunscreen as much as I could but for some reason my right shin is just shot. It's a deep, stinging red. Don't worry I've been globbing on the aloe. I'm just afraid burn will attract more burn though, you know?"

And it did. My stinging body was a reoccurring theme throughout the vacation. Sitting down, standing up, walking, breathing, it all hurt. I'm just a burner. No matter how much 45, zinc, or shade I cover myself in. And I could definitely say goodbye to the hot tub for the rest of the trip. It was like dipping an already-singed limb in the fires of burning hell. But it was worth it because Waikiki Beach is...the...bomb. Observe.





We then hung out at the International Market for a few hours. We walked around the jewelry stands and aggressive women continually pointed out every piece of jewelry to us in their stands saying "This is a bracelet. Yes? Very beautiful. Very nice. You buy." We did buy a little, but the more aggressive they were the quicker I was sure to dodge them, those sly ladies. We then had sushi and macademia nut ice cream (notice the cone says Hawaii) while we watched a four-person Hawaiian band play.



On the way back to the hotel, we picked me up a most essential pair of hiking shoes, as we were going on an adventure the next day.


Before I go on, two quick stories to share with you.

1. I was in the public bathroom at Waikiki Beach taking care of business when all of the sudden a lil' old woman body slams the door to my stall open, thus exposing me on the toilet. She was so shocked to see me in there that she stood there, frozen, terror-stricken and staring at me right in the face. She didn't close the door as she could not move. So I did the only thing I could think of - smile at her. She finally left and I reached forward and held the door closed while I finished.

2. A Japanese teen tried to communicate with my friend Anna and I the beach. (Yes we have the same name, it's adorable.) After about five minutes of miming frantic motions and speaking hurried Japanese to us, we finally realized that he was trying to ask us to go swim with him and his other teens buddies. I declined. But I kicked myself after he left for not saying "arigato". He would have been pleased as punch, I assure you.

Saturday was a fantastic day. We woke up at 6:30 am and got picked up by Tommy's Tours and they took us to Hanauma Bay where we snorkeled the morning away. It blew my mind. Huge fish, some as long as my arm and every color under the sun, swam all around us. The coral was so shallow that we had to suck our stomachs in as we floated over it. I took pictures like a crazy person that has never seen the outdoors before.





After we got our fill at Hanauma Bay, we went to Diamondhead Mountain to go hiking. Everyone said it would take an hour and a half to hike up to the top, but guess how long it took svelte, young Anna and me? You guessed it. 20 minutes. Now will you just look at these views?




That night we grabbed some din din, picked up some gelato, and watched the sunset on Waikiki. Just as we were ambling around the beach we stumbled upon this performance. You probably can't see it, but take my word for it, nary a woman's eyes were straying far from that fella on the left.


Ok if there's one thing I truly will never forget, it was the surfing. We surfed three times there on Waikiki and it was unbelievable. I've surfed in Northern California before but it was freezing and I wore a full body wet suit and it was raining and the waves here humongous. It was still an amazing experience, but super difficult. But in Hawaii, the surf stands guarantee that anyone taking a lesson will catch a wave and they're right. The waves in that part of Hawaii are made for surfing. They gently propel your board forward, you casually raise your body to your knees, then you slowly lift one leg up followed by the other, and you gently glide in towards the sand. It couldn't be easier. And even if someone smashes their board right into your face, there's still a total feeling of calm and irie.

Here is the surf stand that we rented from and the cool surf girl rash guards we bought to try to curb some mad board rash.



Ok I need to take you a moment to tell you a story. So the Tommy's Tour guide that drove us to Diamondhead was a hoot and a half, to say the least. She talked our ears off about everything that has to do with Hawaii and Hanauma Bay and right after telling us something logistical like where the bathrooms will be when we get there, she would interrupt by saying "Ok I am going to tell you a story now. Ok so two warriors were in love with the same woman. So she turned herself into a moutain ok so they would not fight and they would always think she is beautiful. Ok then her dad turned into a gecko mountain so he could always watch over here. And there is that mountain" (and she would point).

Monday was rainforest day! If you think I was a picture taking freak at the snorkeling bay, think again, especially since certain scenes of Lost were filmed in this very rainforest. I'm just going to let the pictures do the talking for this one.








And then last but not least, one of our last sweet things we did...whale watching. I wanted to take pictures of the whales but it was too magical to catch on film; I just had to focus on the present moment. But here are some pretty pictures I took along the way. (Notice the name of the boat.)




And that pretty much concludes your picture tour of the vacation! I will just say that it was one of the best vacations I've been on and I would do it again in a heartbeat. It was pretty cheap too, especially with my kick-a hotel deal. Thank you for being a passenger on my tour and to reward you I will leave you with this:

Sweaty nervous pits.

I had three very important meetings at work today - meetings I have been preparing for for weeks. As a result, I did something I rarely do: sweat profusely, specifically in the armpits. But I couldn't control it! The minute I walked into each meeting I was done for. It got so bad at one point that I had to switch shirts to let it air dry for a while.

Darn these blasted glands and their susceptibility to nervousness! Aren't women supposed to be dainty? You are not helping me be dainty, pits! And you turning my shirt into a dampfest is not cutting down on the nervousness!

Wearing my shorts tan proudly.

As you may know, I am headed to Hawaii next week for vacation.

Were one of my friends not up for a role in the next Twilight movie, there would be three of us going. Alas, she made the final rounds of auditions, and thus I fear we will not have her in our company. Either way though, it is sure to be a good time…

Except for one thing. My shorts tan, still lingering majestically from last summer. Minus the old lady moles, it is not unlike this.

The contrast between the lasting once-burn-now-tan found on my lower legs and the bright white on my upper legs is stark, to say the least. The line between the two is shockingly accurate, as if I were wearing white boxer briefs. I would like to say my shorts tan and I will be showing up to the beaches of Hawaii unabashed, but I have to admit…I’m slightly concerned about it.

The way the sun will reflect off my legs is sure to blind unsuspecting beach tourists and make children scream in terror as they attempt to cover their eyes. The wind might even stop blowing. The waves might stop waving. The palm trees might stop softly rustling and the coconuts might stop, um, producing milk.

But I just can’t bring myself to go tanning in a tanning bed first. Never have, probably never will.

Zinc oxide, here I come!

Walking tacos and alligators.

First, let me just say the taco party was a rousing success. And it wasn't a regular taco party - no, sir. We served walking tacos, as described lovingly by local actor/comedian Bobby Gardner, who got his first taste of the stuff at our party:

Apparently I'm the only person on the planet who didn't know what these delectable gems were. Basically you open up a small bag of your favorite tortilla chips, crush up the chips, then add your meat, cheese, lettuce, salsa, etc., grab a fork and enjoy! How have I not heard of this? It combines my two passions: food and laziness. Kudos to the fat, lazy bastard that came up with the walking taco. I salute you!

And here is a visual if you are having trouble wrapping your head around this delicacy.


Second, I have to tell you about my dream last night. My two friends and I were in a lagoon. Except it wasn't a pretty one - it was all swampy and dangerous and the water was dark and opaque. My friend Conrad was disabled, so I was holding his head above water. The lagoon was shallow enough so that we could all wade through the water but Conrad's legs didn't work so I was holding him up from underneath his armpits and facing him forward so he could see. My friend Alan was wading next to us.

Then, all of a sudden, alligators started coming toward us, one by one. Alan loudly taunted them. Whenever I saw one coming toward us, I would wheel Conrad around to face the alligator, then he would slap the alligator's face with a fly swatter. Alan's taunting grew and he started beckoning the gators to come toward us: "C'MON ALLIGATORS!!! IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?!!?" I continued to wheel Conrad around and he continued to lightly and repeatedly slap each one with the fly swatter until it ambled away.

Then I woke up.

Happy Thursday!