That was the sound of me collapsing at the end of my week. As of now i’m on vacation, until December first.
I’m not actually gone yet – that’s still (as of now) about 78 hours away. But mentally i’m already high above the pacific, thinking about hula girls and slack-key guitar, and hoping my flight (Oceanic Air flight number 816) doesn’t find itself a little off course.
This is about a mile from my condo; the dock on the right is in front of the King Kam hotel, and it’s where the dive boat i favored used to go out (though they’ve moved north to the small boat harbor, and they’ve also sold, so i dunno if i’ll still use ‘em).
Keep an eye on that web cam, you just might see me. But not, you know, doing a show. You have to go look for Merrick for that action.
It’s been a long and emotionally complicated week, and that ain’t over. My mother still needs at least five days of care in the three days I have left, my mother in law’s computer woes got worse (woise? Woes got Woise? Something like that), in that her computer went from needing a new drive to needing a new entire computer, which of course won’t get here til’ I’m gone so now I have to find her someone to set up her new mac.
And there’s other shit complicating my life, small and large, but fuck it, I’m on vacation. That is going away for the next three weeks. Meanwhile, hula girls, bikini girls, girls in wetsuits (god you know i love girls in wetsuits), and a lot of not thinking. Though if i’m lucky, some writing, and if you-all are non-lucky, there will be blogging.
Vacation. I’ve forgotten what that feels like.