D.C. for the 4th

Another summer, another trip to D.C. to see my sister. I'm not going to break it down day by day; instead I'll break it down memory by memory, most of them involving good food and good people.

Crying abundant and very cathartic tears on the airplane while finishing The Book Thief on the way there; a Thai dinner in the rain; visiting with my sister's officemates, some of whom are major So You Think You Can Dance Fans, and feeling as if I'd found My People; seeing my sister and brother-in-law's very cute apartment for the first time; waiting in a very long line while chatting over iced coffee for brunch at Eastern Market, where I got The Brick, a creation with an egg, a slab of ham, and actual hashbrowns sandwiched between two slices of toast, and a side of grits, of course; going running in a place where it was 74 degrees in the middle of the day, which felt like a miracle, enjoying the pretty sidewalk flowers in my sister's neighborhood and seeing the Capitol appear when rounding the curve of a hill; stopping at a fancy grocery store after my run and being yelled at for accidentally cutting in line at the seafood counter and getting between a woman and her giant bag of crabs; feasting upon a creation of my brother-in-law's, peppers and onions and garlic and tomatoes mashed up in a blender and simmered forever and ever until sweet and delicious pasty goo that when served with shrimp over pasta with a side of rosemary bread rivaled the best dishes I have ever eaten in an Italian restaurant; watching episode after episode of season five of The West Wing, one of the years I didn't watch it, and deeming it, in its often jarring Sorkin-less weirdness, "Bizarro West Wing"; going on another run on the 4th of July, again relishing the mindblowingly pleasant temperature, heading around the Capitol all the way down the Mall through the Folk Life Festival, feeling mighty patriotic and swell when running up the sidewalk sloping up to the Washington Monument, meeting up there with my sister and bro-in-law for stretching and a stroll through the very beautiful World War II Memorial, taking a moment at the pillar engraved with "Louisiana"; stopping for a very cold and totally worth it $6 cup of Stella Artois at a Wales tent at the festival, remembering our most wonderful time there five years ago this summer; gathering with some of their very nice friends over beers and snacks before heading en masse on foot back over to the Mall to watch the incredible fireworks lighting up the sky behind the Washington Monument; heading to the Dupont Circle farmers' market to see B.'s sister at her booth and enjoying seeing her and tasting her wares; walking from there over to the lovely Tabard Inn for an amazing brunch of fontina grits, a warm basket of assorted breads, iced coffee, a mimosa, an asparagus/sundried tomato fritatta, waffles topped with fruit, and a side of bacon, yes ma'am; walking past the White House and feeling a surge of joy and pride relative to its current occupancy; going to see Away We Go, which I found refreshingly honest and funny and real; dining on the sidewalk of a Cuban restaurant with my dear old friend Elizabeth, ever-wonderful; taking an impromptu day trip to Annapolis, which is surprisingly quaint and charming, eating crab cake sandwiches by the bay, strolling up and down the streets window shopping, and leaping around the grounds of the state capitol like lunatics; and dining at Matchbox with more of their friends, who were delightful, and enjoying veggie pizza with potato chips on top and several more Stellas.

Before I left for this trip I had kind of a heavy heart, and I think getting away was just what I needed. I think the best part of any vacation, on top of the great times had in its duration, is the feeling it leaves in me once I'm home. In every moment of fun and laughter with my sister and her husband, both of whom I love beyond measure; with every nod of understanding over fajitas in a discussion of how we enter the world; with every sight of the crape myrtles which seemed so much brighter there, not being burned and baked by the scorching heat we're having here these days; with every sip of cold beer; with every step on my runs through their neighborhood and past those buildings and monuments that never cease to leave me a little in awe ... I felt my heart growing lighter and letting go.

Now that I'm home, I feel more free, more focused, and more ready to embrace the pleasures of the summer ahead of me. I feel ready to enjoy this dinner I just made of onions and bell peppers and zucchini and yellow squash and carrots and celery and almonds and green peas and chick peas and whole wheat orzo topped off with a little romano cheese. I feel like me again.

Catching up

The time came when it was time to leave Hawaii. It was a sad day indeed. I took a two-mile walk around S.'s neighborhood while she went to teach class, and we went out to lunch and for coffee. Then she took me to the airport for my overnight flight. I'll tell you how it was. Depressing. On the flight home, I basically broke my neck and could not move it for several days. I tried to order coffee at the airport Starbucks during my Houston layover, but I was so deliriously sleep-deprived that I just shook my head sadly at the barista when I got to the counter and walked away in a haze.

It was a weird adjustment being home. Being back to work and school instead of on vacation. The time change was crazily life-wrecking in a way that has really surprised me. And mostly I just miss my wonderful friend more than I can ever say.

Now I'm settled back at home, fearing emotional aneurysms daily relative to the election. My nerves are totally shot. I start weeping when I contemplate a certain outcome. My sister came into town, and she and B. and I did a little phone banking, which was a good experience. I've also started training for a half-marathon, which Erin and I are writing about over here.

Yesterday my sister and I went to a football game. It was fun. My shins hurt. I'll miss Mad Men after the season ends tonight. That's really all I can think of to say right now.

Last full day in Hawaii

My last full day in Hawaii was another fun day. We got up early in the morning and went on a tour of Pearl Harbor on the Admiral's Barge.

(Photo by S.)

It was a small group of people, as this is a tour you can only go on if you're with a member of the military. Since S.'s husband is in the Navy, we were in like Flynn. It was a gorgeous day on the water, and if I love anything, let's face it, it's a good history lesson on the history of war. Being at the actual site of the events was amazing. Riding on a boat while doing so was just gravy. We learned all about the area, the ships in the harbor, and the events of December 7, 1941. I was particularly struck by the presence of the U.S.S. Missouri, on which Japan surrendered at the end of WWII. And the U.S.S. Arizona Memorial was, of course, very moving, particularly the area listing the names of survivors who chose to be interred upon their deaths later in life with their shipmates.

After our tour, we headed to nearby battleship (?), on the deck (?) (not good with my Navy terminology) of which S.'s husband had a promotion ceremony. It was very, very cool. The military life is very foreign to me, but I'm getting a closer look at it now through the eyes and experiences of my closest friend and her husband (my junior prom date!). The best thing about this ship besides the ceremony was seeing the launch site of the missile that shot down the space shuttle.

We celebrated his promotion at the Dixie Grill, sucking down beers and water and fries and mahi mahi sandwiches after roasting in the sun on the ship. It was fun to hang out with their friends, who came along.

After that, it was time for pajamas, Thai leftovers, Java Chip ice cream, and the presidential debate. The next day, it was time to leave and return to real life, but I'm choosing not to think about that.

Livin' the dream

After our day at the beach, we decided on a day of rest. It was a day of laundry doing, General Hospital watching, and spaghetti making. We did venture outside for a two-mile jog around the neighborhood, which was (a) hilly and (b) hot but still nice. We finished off the day watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall, which made us laugh a whole lot.

Which brings us to yesterday. We drove back into Haleiwa to visit S.'s favorite coffee shop, the Coffee Gallery. It was as cute as she promised ... she got a drink called the Coconator and I got an iced hazelnut soy latte.

We snacked on things called California Bars and Banana Date Blobs and sat outside on the patio with some chickens, talking about The Sopranos (which she is just finishing for the first time) and Deadwood (which I'm encouraging her to watch next).

Next she took us to the Soap Factory, housed in an old sugar mill. It smelled like heaven, and we bought some soap for the road. We stopped in a shop next-door that's also a coffee factory; I was talked into a sample and luckily noticed the small worm floating in it before taking the first sip.

We were left wondering which beach to visit. So we headed along the North Shore, and each beach was of course more stunning than the one we just passed. Ultimately we decided to visit Turtle Bay, where her parents stayed when they were here and where Forgetting Sarah Marshall was filmed. Like geeks, we got excited to see the things like the desk where Mila Kunis worked, the bar, the restaurant, and so forth. The beach there was lovely and relaxing and we settled into the sand with our mango (her) and raspberry (me) slushies and magazines.

I have only met two locals here who were anything less than friendly -- one at the farmer's market, who became livid when I realized I had just spent $10 on four mango/peach scones (I dislike both mangoes and peaches) instead of four cheese biscuits and asked to exchange them, unopened and paid for 5 seconds before, for something else. And one was on the beach at Turtle Bay. He wanted to sell us some "Hawaiian art," and when we (politely) declined, he set off on a tirade about how visitors act like "they" offend us, but it is we who offend them. He said, "You're looking at someone who's pure." Then as we packed up to leave, he told us to go ahead and leave because we'd spent enough time on "their" beaches. Then he called out to S. as we once again politely declined his offer to sell us some art, "You live here! You should know better!" S. has lots of thoughts and insights into the "us" vs. "them" situation in Hawaii, and I have to say it's pretty damn fascinating.

We walked along the shore back to the car and did not leave until embarking on a covert mission led by the intrepid S. to find the beach cottages where Aldous, Sarah Marshall, and Jason Segel stayed in the movie. It was exciting.

We then headed home, at which point we headed to two exercise classes she was teaching. One used all balls ... the body ball, the medicine ball, the pilates ball. Thankfully, it was only 30 minutes because though it was fun, it was hard! Next came Rep Reebok, and I have to say that it was also tough but I loved it! I kept thinking how much my sister would like this class. My friend is a great teacher.

We got some Thai take-out and headed home; S. and her husband watched Heroes, and I took to my bed to watch the season premiere of Friday Night Lights online (wonderful), and that was the end of yesterday. It was another great day; apparently there are no bad days in Hawaii.

Hawaii, Day 3

Our day began with a drive to the Valley of the Temples at the foot of the Koʻolau Mountains.

The mountains were mindblowingly huge and beautiful. The whole temple and burial ground area was very peaceful and calming.

After wandering the grounds for a little while, we headed into Kailua, where we had sushi for lunch. S. was quick to point out the side of "mac salad" that apparently comes with everything in Hawaii whether you order it or not. Good to know!

Our next top was Bellows Beach. The moment we parked the car, it started pouring down rain.

We woefully watched the rain through the car windows, but it stopped a few minutes later. Hooray! We relaxed in the sand for a few minutes before deciding to brave the water. It wasn't nearly as cold as the water at Chun's. S. explained that Chun's is a reefy bottom and Bellows is a sandy bottom, which means at the latter we could swim without fear of being slammed into a volcanic rock and dying. The waves were super strong and knocked us over multiple times, but it was very fun and thrilling and outstanding in that way that only being smashed around by ocean waves can be. S. yelled, "The Pacific isn't very pacific!" We took lots of pictures of ourselves throughout.

We swam until we couldn't swim anymore, and then we headed home along a winding mountain road. We pulled over immediately when we saw a sign reading "Scenic Point." It was scenic, alright. It was the Halona Blowhole, and it was gorgeous and breathtaking and all of those other adjectives that don't begin to capture what it felt like to stand up there.

After sufficiently taking in the glory of the view, we drove home through a very ritzy part of the island. We stared with mouths agape at the HUGE movie star mansions on the mountain and decided to try to see if we could get up there. We could not, as we would learn from a security guard who laughed in our faces. It was called Hawaii Loa Ridge. In my mind, the stars of Lost live there.

We got back to the house, showered, ate pizza, and collapsed. It was another really exhausting and really wonderful day.