First, my bracket.
You know what? No. I don’t want to talk about my bracket, GEORGETOWN, so…I shant.
The weekend was very interesting. On Saturday I finished some paperwork, and then we decided to take on Diamond Head. We arrived around noonish, purchased a bottle of nice cold water, and wore appropriate footwear. The signs said 0.8 miles to the top, and I thought I could certainly achieve that.
Now would be a good time to mention that I suffer from low blood pressure and pre-diabetic blood sugar fluctuations. Not full-fledged diabetes, but my doctors pretty much concur that it is an inevitability. Suffice it to say that without a proper breakfast, I was seeing squiggles before the last set of stairs. I reached for the chain fence to steady myself, and it was not there; I stepped toward a bench and there was a step down that I did not see. Staggering in near-total whiteout, I sat down before I fainted, and in doing so nearly toppled headfirst over the chain down the damn mountainside. I sat there for ten minutes regaining control of my stomach. A three year old boy from a Spanish family (and God bless my other country, I adore Spaniards) offered me his Pringles in commiseration, which was incredibly sweet of him. Once I stopped seeing triple, I dragged myself up to the top and what do you know? Honolulu has a lovely skyline! It’s a pretty city and I’m proud to call this place home. I made it back down the mountain and chugged a Gatorade and felt MUCH better.
Sushi for dinner, movies, and a few Kona Longboard Ales. Excellent Saturday, near faint-and-vomit spell notwithstanding.
Today we went up to Dillingham Airfield, across from which there is a lovely and mostly deserted beach with a refreshing breeze. We talked to Tom’s family (hi, D&D!) and swam for a long time, then a nap on the sand. The backs of my thighs look a touch like medium-rare sirloin, but I think I’ve found an acceptable sunscreen to carry me through. There was some dithering, solely on my part, as to whether or not I should remove my t-shirt and reveal my string bikini. You see, my weight loss hit a wall once I stopped taking Vyvanse not too long ago, and I’ve gained about ten back. Once we GOT to the beach, however, I realized just how many people have deluded themselves into thinking that they look totally fantastic in teeny, tiny garments and I felt fine about shucking the tank top coverup.
Pork loin roast for dinner, and tomorrow, meeting with a staffing agency. Cross your fingers for my eventual gainful employment.