It’s been 14 years since Karaokegal and Mr. Karaokegal (I can’t really call him Karaokeguy) were in Hawaii together. That time I got some free Hyatt nights and we stayed at bunch of hotels that we wouldn’t have been able to afford in real life and we were totally overwhelmed. We also did the Maui Downhill, but I was whiny, pathetic and out of shape. Obviously I was coming back with a lot of baggage besides the suitcase on wheels with tee-shirts, shorts, jog bras and lots of sun block.
By the way, it’s possible that someone whose not unreasonable concern about sunburn/skin cancer/wrinkles has turned into a full-fledged phobia shouldn’t necessarily be vacationing in a tropical paradise, but Hubby wanted fun in the sun. Let’s just say I ended up with a lot of sun block in my mouth and eyes. On the other hand, no sunburn.
It wouldn’t be a Karaokegal and Hubby vacation without some pre-trip drama.
I save up money in a shoe-box for the year before a vacation for walk-around money. The day before the trip we broke out the shoebox money. He bagged and tagged and wrapped it all up. I went down to laundry and errands. When I got back, he was looking for something. Looking frantically, I realized. He couldn’t find the money and was quietly freaking out about it, instead of doing it loudly the way I would have. He started dismantling the Mt. Everest of clutter on his side of the bed and told me to look in the bed, which I did, although apparently not thoroughly enough.
I mostly busied myself making tapes to listen to on the plane and throwing out “helpful” suggestions such as “Did you look in your wallet?” and “How about your back pocket?”
After ten to fifteen minutes of trying to stay low-key, he grabbed the blanket and shook it out. The money was under the blanket. Oops. I threatened to sue him for copyright infringement. Thinking I’ve lost something important (keys, glasses, documents) and having a total “Oh my god, it’s a brain tumor” melt-down and then it turns up is my shtick.
We had dinner with a friend and then I had to pack. But before I could pack, I had to finish typing the first draft of my entry to the H_W Fest. This is the first time I’ve traveled since my LJ/House/Hugh/smut obsession took over my life. I was taking the laptop but not my remote keyboard and mouse. (And I’ve gotten much better on the laptop keyboard after not having the bigger one for a week.) I just had to get it all down before I kissed Romeo (my laptop) good bye until Maui. I wanted the draft done because I was going to Maui planning to knock off first drafts on my entry for yuletide and a House/Cuddy fic.
Another point of pre-trip stress: Execucar. I decided to splurge on a town car instead of super shuttle, but I’ve had two week of miserable limo screw-ups at work so I was more paranoid than usual. I reconfirmed the reservation the night before and called ½ hour before pickup time to make sure the car had been dispatched. We went downstairs at 655AM and there was Mr. Billy Lee standing at our front door looking for the non-existent numbers on our buzzers. If you obsess long enough, the car is there.
SFO was a total zoo. We checked in with the skycap because the line inside was completely daunting. After that all we had to deal with was the screaming baby express to Maui. At least we were in economy plus and had the two seat side together. I hate flying with a vengeance. The misery of coach makes me more sympathetic to my clients and their insane demands for upgrades and better seats and …(Let it go. Let it go.) I started worrying that one of my clients wouldn’t get his Limo on Monday and that my computer at work wouldn’t be taken care of… (Let it go. Let it go.) I mean that I had too many stories “due” and wouldn’t be able to write any of them. I also wondered if I’d brought enough old “New Yorkers”. I should have known better. Going through ten “New Yorkers” in a weeks’ vacation will never happen again.
Now it’s all about the writing.
Vacation report-Part 2