Here’s a good pic of the house I was staying in last week, on Hanalei bay, Kauai; view from the edge of the bay.
I post this as a visual reference. Between the house and the vantage point from which this was taken lies the main road that runs through Hanalei and on up to the very far northern drivable point.
Saturday, I want to a borthday bbq for a friend; a friend from a big gang I used to hang out with a lot, but have faded out of lately for various reasons. Old San Jose music scene people, bands with names like frontier wives, sugarbombs, exploding cadillacs, sioux nation, and a bunch of others only san jose scene people would remember.
One of these people was my pal lex.
I post this because I found out saturday, he and his lovely wife Kelly were – literally – less than a mile away from my on Hanalei Bay the entire time were were there. They drove by our house every day on that road (nearly pictured, above), ate in the same restaurants, grocery shopped in the same store. And neither of us ever knew it.
We spent satrday’s party alternately comparing recent tattoos, and lamenting the fact that fate got us that close in a place that stunning, and never crossed our paths.
Fuckin’ fate, man.
We also talked about getting our backs tattooed, something Lex and I have been talking about since we both turned fourty, *cough* years ago. Neither of us have yet started; it’s almost a race at this point though I’d ahead, since I actually have a design picked out.
In other news – there is no other news. I am hit hard with that post-vacation malaise, the lack of any interest in work or the details of real life. Back to work, back to bill-paying and errand-running and housework. Back to school for my kids (when the fuck did school switch to ending and starting in the middle of summer? When I was a kid, early june we got out, mid-september we went back. When did this stupid before-labor-day thing get started?)
I can’t really even work up energy to send email, and I’m only managing to read because I have this awesome
short story collection by Dennis LeHane; I can’t get unough focus for anything longer.
Plus there’s the Harry Potter hangover. We recently finished a marathon out-loud reading of Deathly Hallows, and how can one not feel spent after that book?
All in all, I just want to be sandy and salty and not have to come the fuck back.
The tattoos on my feet are (as expected with foot tattoos) healing slowly; these things are as irritating to heal as they are to get. I’ll post pic in a week or so when they start to look healed and are no longer flaking off like a sunburned comics page.
Monday. I think I’ll go back to bed.