aloha.

this is a picture of my hair. when i arrived, two hours ago, it was straight. that, my friends, is a little something i like to call humidity.

the ilikai, our hotel, is divided into two obvious and distinct goups of people:
1. young, nubile, tanned twenty year olds walking around with yoga mats strapped to their backs and copies of the teacher-dialogue under their arms, like teeny paper surfboards.
2. senior citizens. everywhere. they are old, they are pale and pasty and freckled, and they are wearing blousy shirts and shorts with high waistbands.

i don't think i have to tell you which of these groups i suspect i most belong with.......

i arrived here after spending almost seven hours in flight debacles with my mother-a scorpio control freak-at the dallas airport.
she was barging through crowds and lines as my personal travel advocate, humiliating me, and making me insane. this would be followed by my quietly asking her to relax. that would be followed by her dramatically rolling her eyes, resting a hand on her cocked hip, and dramatically saying to everyone standing around, "oh, i'm just annoying old MOM. can't do ANYTHING RIGHT!!!" the crowds would roar with pleasure. apparently their children are ungrateful too.

i am 34 years old. this oft performed one woman cabaret show based on the true story of an uncut umbilical cord has grown tedious.
i dealt with it by sampling every single food offering on the premises. huge pretzels, m&m's, a breakfast burrito, and four cups of coffee. i arrived in hawaii as dehydrated and distended as i've ever been in my life.

when my mom wasn't edging me closer and closer to suicide...she was, as she is known to be, endlessly helpful to everyone in sight. she checks people's gates for them, she holds babies so young mothers can check their bags, she makes sure the elderly passengers have enough snacks to take on board because she's concerned their blood sugar levels will drop somewhere over the pacific. and its all genuine. totally authentic. she is unspeakably generous and compassionate.
which means, after watching the sixty year old southern angel with shellacked blonde hair assist young and old alike, the
masses exhibit zero sympathy for her companion....the surly girl in her mid thirties who keeps hissing "relax".
i got no love at that airport...no sympathy...only the sort of looks one shoots those who hurt puppies or don't appreciate their mothers.

but now i am here.
but now i am here.
but now i am here.

it is just beautiful. the entire island smells of flowers and sunscreen. i have a view of the crystalline water from my balcony tonight and all is well.

i was going to write about why i began bikram yoga today. seemed like an appropriate way to launch these next nine weeks. but i'll save that for tommorrow morning...as i will, without question, wake up on mainland time @ 4 a.m.

i can hear the ocean from where i sit right now.

beautiful. beautiful. beautiful. beautiful. beautiful. beautiful.