Hawaiian Weekend

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.
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