As most of you know, I recently took a trip down to Oahu, Hawaii, to check out the various filming locations of Lost (and see some other island stuff now and then). Instead of writing email after email detailing it, and knowing that way more went on than could easily fit into a series of emails anyway, I decided to write a blog about it. Some of you requested that I do so too, so here it is. While I was there I kept a journal on me at all times, one that I nearly filled up completely. This isn’t word for word from that, since some of it was quick notes, or I was writing late at night after tossing back a few, and lists of things to remember and silly/geeked out events that are better left unsaid (such as Incidents 1-5).
Like any vacation, it starts with the travel time to get from point A to B. In my case, this meant a three hour drive to Syracuse, NY to catch a 6am flight to Detroit. After a flurry of activity in the morning with last minute packing and goodbyes to my pets, we left and had a smooth drive to the hotel. The border gave us the third degree, which is unusual, but I think the girl was in training. The guy there with her was mostly talking to me about the different islands down in Hawaii, since he used to live there.
We reached the hotel and got inside so I could check in, when – in typical Stephanie fashion – my suitcase tips over, which had my backpack on top of it, which had a beer bottle in the side, and the bottle smashed all over the place. Beer everywhere. The smell was just wonderful in the hotel lobby, I’m sure they appreciated it.
I wasn’t so much embarrassed as pissed off that my beer was now gone, since my plan was to take half a dose of Nyquil and drink a beer so I could fall asleep early. My flight was at six, and I wanted to be up at three, but in order to get a good night’s sleep that would mean being asleep by at least nine. Plus it was rather a pain in the butt to get all the glass out of the mesh water bottle holder on my backpack, not to mention the smell. Once in my room this was the first thing I started dealing with.
I won’t go into too much detail about my goodbyes to my family, only that it was a huge conflict of emotions considering I was super excited to go to Hawaii. They came up to my room with me and my daughter really didn’t want to leave, and when I walked them out to the car, I’ll fully admit it was rough to say goodbye. As thrilled as I was to be leaving for Hawaii soon, the mother in me hated my daughter crying and saying “I want you in the car!” Likewise it wasn’t much fun watching them drive off and her little face looking towards me the whole time until they drove out of sight.
Still, I’m practical and it’s not every day you’re going to Hawaii and I knew she’d be alright so I tried not feeling too guilty. Once back in my room I spent some time picking glass shards out of my backpack and washing it in the tub with some hotel shampoo. At first I thought that leaving it on the heater would dry it in time, but no go. The heater was one of those huge pieces of crap that have two settings, high and off but off seemed to be the main function, so I used the hotel hair dryer to dry the bag. That lasted all of two seconds before I burnt it out, so switched to my hairdryer where I was much more careful. (Don’t worry, the hotel hair dryer only needed to cool off, so I didn’t break it.)
When I went down to dinner, not very hungry but knowing I should eat, I ordered my meal and a couple of beers and what a shocker, knocked the second one over and spilled it all over my lap. Wonderful. These were the jeans I was planning on wearing on my flight since they’re comfy and I only brought those and my cords since I knew I wouldn’t be wearing pants much on the island. Once my meal was done it was back up to my room to spot wash my jeans with hotel shampoo and dry them with a hair dryer. Thankfully I got the beer stench out of both my backpack and my pants, and both were dry by the time I needed them.
Finally it was time for bed, around seven, but one a and a half beers (half because I dumped half on my lap) and half a dose of Nyquil later, I was starting to get sleepy. I watched boring TV and read, but dozed off around nine. The old clunker heater kept on waking me up though, so I finally shut it off, and I’m not sure if it was me or the guy in the room next to me that woke me up snoring at two in the morning. Probably him, I hope anyway.
Speaking of waking up, I’m very glad that I set the alarm clock on my cell phone, or else I would have missed my flight. Dave had set the hotel alarm clock for me, and when I checked in I asked for a wake- up call. The clock didn’t go off and no call came, so I’m glad my contingency plan for my contingency plan worked. When I mentioned to the front desk clerk that I never received my wake-up call, he didn’t seem very bothered by it.
I sat and waited with a couple of guys on business who happened to be from Ottawa, and we took the shuttle to the airport. My trip was about to begin.
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This wouldn't be the beginning of such a rocking adventure without you spilling something!
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