Feb. 19th, 2005

la_belle_laide: (Default)
Yesterday, Betsy, Spencer and I went to Islands of Adventure, while everyone else stayed in Disney. It was an awesomely fun day; Spencer and I got Betsy to go on the Hulk and then we dragged her onto Dueling Dragons, which she didn't like as much as we'd hoped she would. Spencer and I rode Dueling Dragons over and over again, until we came to a point where we could calmly discuss the merits of the roller coaster while upside down. We rode it five times, and around the fifth time we realized that we were getting just a little too used to it. A coaster like that, you don't want to overdo it. You have to let it keep you on your toes, otherwise, what's the point? I wish I was on it again now, but honestly, I think it's good for me to take a year away from hardcore coasters, so that I can get unused to them again. Then the thrill comes back.

Yesterday, for whatever reason, a few guys hit on me. One of them was very beautiful, with the pretty-boy haircut and chiseled features and whatnot. He actually did one of those subtle air kisses to me. I was so shocked (not only is that a rare occurance in and of itself, but I had just come off a water ride and looked like a drowned rat,) that instead of flirting back at him, I recoiled with the letters "WTF" in a bubble over my head. Ahhh, yes. My charm wins them all over. My aunt Betsy noticed this guy and said, in a very surprised tone, "God, a lot of guys are hitting on you today!" I said, "I noticed it; and if *I* notice it, it must be obvious. I wonder why they're doing that all of a sudden." She said, "I'll tell you why." And here I thought she was going to say something like, "It's because you're happy" or "You're strangely confident today," or something like that. But instead, she said, "It's because you look like Ashley Simpson." Which is just so horrifying. Especially when I consider that, in the store last week when I saw Ashley Simpson on the cover of a magazine, my thought was, "Who's this ugly whore?" I told my aunt that I thought Ashley Simpson was trashy, and she assured me that it wasn't the trashy part that made her think that. I still don't know what, under god's beautiful blue earth, she meant, though. Because I don't see it.

After a lot of walking, I started to get this tight pain in my right butt cheek. I have noticed that watching House, MD has made me paranoid over every little thing. Everything I use in my house now has the potential to give me seizures or kidney failure or to blind me. With my right butt, all I could think of was Dr. House's condition, with the infarction and the muscle death, and how he said, "the only symptom was pain." So I kept insisting that my butt was dying. Betsy promised me that if my butt died, they would eugoogalize it for me.

Just before we decided it was time to leave, we stopped in a medieval weapon store. In the back of the display case, staring me right in the eyes, was a beautiful Japanese sword. I pretended for a few minutes that I wasn't going to buy it, but I think that I knew the entire time that I would. It was $80. I mean, that's not bad. The Celtic sword I bought about twelve years ago was $300. The other two swords I have, which I bought about 13 and 10 years ago, were around $130-$150 or so. So I couldn't resist. I'll get some pics of it after I open it. The funniest part of this came when I had to have it shipped to the front of the park. (They don't want you going on a murderous rampage in the theme park. You have to wait till you get outside.) So there are two baggage pickups, one in, and one out. First you have to go to the one inside to let them know that you're picking something up outside. So I walk in there, and the guy, who was cute and reminded me of one of [livejournal.com profile] tongari's boys from W-inds (I swear, I see one of her boys everywhere I go,) is standing behind the desk with a piece of tape over his mouth. When he saw me, he ripped it off really quickly and, giggling, asked me "Can I help you?" I said, "I'm here for a package." I didn't even have my receipt out of my purse yet when he said, "Is it a weapon?" Now, there are hundreds of packages sent to the front of the park, and, as Betsy pointed out, why did he take one look at me and assume that I had bought a weapon? She actually asked him that, and he just giggled some more. He told me to go and pick it up outside the gates, which I did, Betsy the entire time commenting that I must just look like a chick who would be wielding a blade.

After much merriment at Universal, we went back to Disney and met up with everyone else for dinner, which was at the Contemporary. Mom, Betsy and I got pina coladas. They were unusually strong, and by the middle of dinner, everything was too funny for words. I was halfheartedly singing "Colors Of The Wind," and when I got to the part about "come taste the sunsweet berries..." Spencer thought I said "taze the sunsweet berries," which led to my uncle saying, "Don't come any closer or I'll taze your berries." Which, last night, was funnier than it should have been.

After dinner, we all ended up in one of the shops. When Chrissie, Celia and I were kids and used to come to Disney, we used to take all the little figurines and statues that they sell and move them so that they were in rude positions. This tradition I have passed on to Spencer and Meghan. Also, I had my camera with me. In the shop, they were selling these Stitch pajamas, the tops of which were really cute; the bottoms of which were underwear with the word "Notorious" written across the back. THe "r" of "notorious" is right in the middle and has an arrow that points down. I wondered, "Why does the arrow in 'notorious' point to your crack?" To which my grandmother replied, "those pajamas are gay." I've known my grandmother for as long as I've been alive, seen her nearly every day of my life, and I know she has a propensity for saying hilariously off-color things. But I have never heard her say, "those are gay" before. Of course, I died laughing.

Then we went to Downtown Disney. Meghan and I were in the crystal store waiting for everyone else, and there was this guy there. He was maybe in his late forties or early fifties, and he had on a heavy coat, and very, very short shorts. As we walked past, we heard him telling one of the workers, "I'm a wombat and a vampire. You're not gonna tell anyone, are you? You're a nice lady, you're not going to bite me." Meghan and I looked at each other and said, "...Let's go!" We walked away from him, but when we came back around, he had cornered another one of the workers and was babbling to her things about mining resources from Neptune to bring to the sun, and how the Masons have all the power and the food, and if they take the food away, people will die, and they'll die without balls. He said, "I'm not a scientist, but I know a lot of things." I knew a guy like him once, his name was Fred and he was a transient in Seattle who happened to be working at the apartment building I was living in. On the surface, people like that are softspoken if a little bit arrogant, and hey seem to think that you're supposed to feel special because they're talking to you, sharing their knowledge. Then one day you'll be in another uncomfortable conversation with them, and they'll tell you that they were at Chris Cornell's mother's house, and she's a witch whose spirit guide is a cougar, which will bring you a chair when you go visit. Which is actually something Fred said once. And then they follow you around until you make them go away or they can't find you anymore.

Then we went for ice cream.

Today, I woke up in a mostly bad mood, which is partly my fault. I had really crazy dreams last night. In one of them, a little girl mistook me for the Wicked Queen and wanted her picture taken with me. I snapped at her that I wasn't the Wicked Queen, I just happened to be wearing some makeup, and then she ran away in tears. Then her mom got so mad at me that she chased me to the Hula seminar, threatening me. And then I had a nightmare that a good friend of mine got sick. I held him and combed his hair and he wouldn't get better. Then, as I woke up a bit early, I watched this really neat video that I downloaded on my laptop a few nights ago. Someone made a House MD music video and it's very cute. This morning when I met up with my folks, I wanted to show it to my Mom, but she wasn't interested at all and that made me snippy. Later, at Epcot Center, Meghan and I spent over an hour in Mitsukoshi and bought many little things. Then we all had dinner at Alfredo's, which, again, has incredibly hot waiters. I guess the food was okay, too.

All during today, I think I've been sort of panicking about this Hula seminar. It's about 45 minutes out of Disney, and is with people I know and am comfortable with, but I somehow felt as if I was being taken out of my confort zone. Which, I keep reminding myself, is a good thing. I know if I get too comfortable, I get complacent and I slack in the worst way. I'm learning more and more that I need things to challenge me. So I was okay with that, but I was also getting some kind of weird vibe. I think I know why I was getting it, actually, and it didn't go away until I actually got here.

My Dad drove me to the hotel that's hosting the seminar. A few months ago, when I made the reservations, I called too late to get a regular room, and they stuck me with a two bedroom suite that was almost double the price of the blocked off rooms. In depseration, tonight, I asked the guy checking me in if they had anything at all that was cheaper than the suite--I mean, I'm just one person, you know? He was very nice and accomodating. He said all he had in non-smoking was a handicap room; I told him I'd take anything. Handicap rooms, it turns out, don't have a shower in a tub like you usually see. Just a drain in the floor with a curtain around it and hand-held shower nozzle thingie. Which is fine, really, as long as I can wash, after all.

After checking in, it was time to register. I expected the usual crowd and excitement when I walked into the ballroom, but was very surprised. No crowd, just Auntie Cheryl (the one who puts these seminars together,) two vendors, one of whom was taking care of registering people, and Kumu Sonny and Lopaka, looking exactly as they had two years ago, Lopaka with his big smile and Sonny, all dark hair and unfairly green eyes. All of a sudden, I found myself shy around Kumu Sonny, which I've never felt before. I always have respect and love for him, but this time I felt like I wasn't supposed to be there. And Kumu Sonny, you know, he sees thousands of students a year. Hasn't seen me in two and a half years. I felt as if I should turn around and leave them to their talking, but then Kumu Sonny waved and said, "Hi, Jules!" I must have looked like the biggest idiot, with my jaw on the floor because he remembered me. This made my night, until I started to wonder: does he remember me because of A Kona Hema and how he chanted it while we danced at ho'ike? (That was my first performance, which, to me, is the biggest blessing--I wouldn't have it any other way.) Or because I'm the grinning git who's always sitting in class at 8:55 AM with my notebook in front of me and pen in my hand? Or because he's seen me make so many mistakes because I'm always in the front? Or then again, Kumu Sonny actually cares about what he teaches and to whom. Likely he remembers everyone, and that's completely cool.

I then asked the lady who was registering all of us if Hini had shown up yet. She said he had and, even though I haven't seen him and won't until tomorrow, this brightens up my entire life. And then I saw Gabi and also got a chance to talk to Cheryl for a few minutes and ask her who else was coming. It ends up that Auntie Kau'i will be here tomorrow! I went to Poly on Wednesday as soon as I could, but she had already left and I always feel funny calling someone up at home. But I get to see her tomorrow and now I can't wait. I will miss her Saturday class, and Kawehi's as well, as I'm leaving for home Thursday, but at least I do get to see them. I can't wait to tell Kawehi that Spencer and Meghan are here, too; he's always interested in how Spencer's chanting is coming along. He asks, "How's your brother and sister?" And I remind him that they're my cousins, which he waves off and says, "cousins, brothers, sisters...They grew up with you, right?" ^_^ Which is sort of how I feel, and always have.

During all of this I was realizing, this is where I belong. I mean, I know that, I usually do, but, you know. And then I was looking at the books on the vending table and there was one called "The Spirit of Hula." I have this thing where I'll turn to a random page in a book and take whatever it says as a sign, usually three times. I turned to a random page and it said something to the effect of, "Think not that all knowledge is in one halau." This I took to mean that, thank the powers I'm here, and not at home cringing through something that's not even Hula. (I'm not trying to be a snob or elitist, I swear I'm not. It's just... "Rockahula.") I turned to the second random page and it said something that hit home, and really hard. And it was a simple phrase, too, that just landed right on top of me. Of course, I bought the book. The phrase was, "Spirit over blood."
la_belle_laide: (Default)
Yesterday, Betsy, Spencer and I went to Islands of Adventure, while everyone else stayed in Disney. It was an awesomely fun day; Spencer and I got Betsy to go on the Hulk and then we dragged her onto Dueling Dragons, which she didn't like as much as we'd hoped she would. Spencer and I rode Dueling Dragons over and over again, until we came to a point where we could calmly discuss the merits of the roller coaster while upside down. We rode it five times, and around the fifth time we realized that we were getting just a little too used to it. A coaster like that, you don't want to overdo it. You have to let it keep you on your toes, otherwise, what's the point? I wish I was on it again now, but honestly, I think it's good for me to take a year away from hardcore coasters, so that I can get unused to them again. Then the thrill comes back.

Yesterday, for whatever reason, a few guys hit on me. One of them was very beautiful, with the pretty-boy haircut and chiseled features and whatnot. He actually did one of those subtle air kisses to me. I was so shocked (not only is that a rare occurance in and of itself, but I had just come off a water ride and looked like a drowned rat,) that instead of flirting back at him, I recoiled with the letters "WTF" in a bubble over my head. Ahhh, yes. My charm wins them all over. My aunt Betsy noticed this guy and said, in a very surprised tone, "God, a lot of guys are hitting on you today!" I said, "I noticed it; and if *I* notice it, it must be obvious. I wonder why they're doing that all of a sudden." She said, "I'll tell you why." And here I thought she was going to say something like, "It's because you're happy" or "You're strangely confident today," or something like that. But instead, she said, "It's because you look like Ashley Simpson." Which is just so horrifying. Especially when I consider that, in the store last week when I saw Ashley Simpson on the cover of a magazine, my thought was, "Who's this ugly whore?" I told my aunt that I thought Ashley Simpson was trashy, and she assured me that it wasn't the trashy part that made her think that. I still don't know what, under god's beautiful blue earth, she meant, though. Because I don't see it.

After a lot of walking, I started to get this tight pain in my right butt cheek. I have noticed that watching House, MD has made me paranoid over every little thing. Everything I use in my house now has the potential to give me seizures or kidney failure or to blind me. With my right butt, all I could think of was Dr. House's condition, with the infarction and the muscle death, and how he said, "the only symptom was pain." So I kept insisting that my butt was dying. Betsy promised me that if my butt died, they would eugoogalize it for me.

Just before we decided it was time to leave, we stopped in a medieval weapon store. In the back of the display case, staring me right in the eyes, was a beautiful Japanese sword. I pretended for a few minutes that I wasn't going to buy it, but I think that I knew the entire time that I would. It was $80. I mean, that's not bad. The Celtic sword I bought about twelve years ago was $300. The other two swords I have, which I bought about 13 and 10 years ago, were around $130-$150 or so. So I couldn't resist. I'll get some pics of it after I open it. The funniest part of this came when I had to have it shipped to the front of the park. (They don't want you going on a murderous rampage in the theme park. You have to wait till you get outside.) So there are two baggage pickups, one in, and one out. First you have to go to the one inside to let them know that you're picking something up outside. So I walk in there, and the guy, who was cute and reminded me of one of [livejournal.com profile] tongari's boys from W-inds (I swear, I see one of her boys everywhere I go,) is standing behind the desk with a piece of tape over his mouth. When he saw me, he ripped it off really quickly and, giggling, asked me "Can I help you?" I said, "I'm here for a package." I didn't even have my receipt out of my purse yet when he said, "Is it a weapon?" Now, there are hundreds of packages sent to the front of the park, and, as Betsy pointed out, why did he take one look at me and assume that I had bought a weapon? She actually asked him that, and he just giggled some more. He told me to go and pick it up outside the gates, which I did, Betsy the entire time commenting that I must just look like a chick who would be wielding a blade.

After much merriment at Universal, we went back to Disney and met up with everyone else for dinner, which was at the Contemporary. Mom, Betsy and I got pina coladas. They were unusually strong, and by the middle of dinner, everything was too funny for words. I was halfheartedly singing "Colors Of The Wind," and when I got to the part about "come taste the sunsweet berries..." Spencer thought I said "taze the sunsweet berries," which led to my uncle saying, "Don't come any closer or I'll taze your berries." Which, last night, was funnier than it should have been.

After dinner, we all ended up in one of the shops. When Chrissie, Celia and I were kids and used to come to Disney, we used to take all the little figurines and statues that they sell and move them so that they were in rude positions. This tradition I have passed on to Spencer and Meghan. Also, I had my camera with me. In the shop, they were selling these Stitch pajamas, the tops of which were really cute; the bottoms of which were underwear with the word "Notorious" written across the back. THe "r" of "notorious" is right in the middle and has an arrow that points down. I wondered, "Why does the arrow in 'notorious' point to your crack?" To which my grandmother replied, "those pajamas are gay." I've known my grandmother for as long as I've been alive, seen her nearly every day of my life, and I know she has a propensity for saying hilariously off-color things. But I have never heard her say, "those are gay" before. Of course, I died laughing.

Then we went to Downtown Disney. Meghan and I were in the crystal store waiting for everyone else, and there was this guy there. He was maybe in his late forties or early fifties, and he had on a heavy coat, and very, very short shorts. As we walked past, we heard him telling one of the workers, "I'm a wombat and a vampire. You're not gonna tell anyone, are you? You're a nice lady, you're not going to bite me." Meghan and I looked at each other and said, "...Let's go!" We walked away from him, but when we came back around, he had cornered another one of the workers and was babbling to her things about mining resources from Neptune to bring to the sun, and how the Masons have all the power and the food, and if they take the food away, people will die, and they'll die without balls. He said, "I'm not a scientist, but I know a lot of things." I knew a guy like him once, his name was Fred and he was a transient in Seattle who happened to be working at the apartment building I was living in. On the surface, people like that are softspoken if a little bit arrogant, and hey seem to think that you're supposed to feel special because they're talking to you, sharing their knowledge. Then one day you'll be in another uncomfortable conversation with them, and they'll tell you that they were at Chris Cornell's mother's house, and she's a witch whose spirit guide is a cougar, which will bring you a chair when you go visit. Which is actually something Fred said once. And then they follow you around until you make them go away or they can't find you anymore.

Then we went for ice cream.

Today, I woke up in a mostly bad mood, which is partly my fault. I had really crazy dreams last night. In one of them, a little girl mistook me for the Wicked Queen and wanted her picture taken with me. I snapped at her that I wasn't the Wicked Queen, I just happened to be wearing some makeup, and then she ran away in tears. Then her mom got so mad at me that she chased me to the Hula seminar, threatening me. And then I had a nightmare that a good friend of mine got sick. I held him and combed his hair and he wouldn't get better. Then, as I woke up a bit early, I watched this really neat video that I downloaded on my laptop a few nights ago. Someone made a House MD music video and it's very cute. This morning when I met up with my folks, I wanted to show it to my Mom, but she wasn't interested at all and that made me snippy. Later, at Epcot Center, Meghan and I spent over an hour in Mitsukoshi and bought many little things. Then we all had dinner at Alfredo's, which, again, has incredibly hot waiters. I guess the food was okay, too.

All during today, I think I've been sort of panicking about this Hula seminar. It's about 45 minutes out of Disney, and is with people I know and am comfortable with, but I somehow felt as if I was being taken out of my confort zone. Which, I keep reminding myself, is a good thing. I know if I get too comfortable, I get complacent and I slack in the worst way. I'm learning more and more that I need things to challenge me. So I was okay with that, but I was also getting some kind of weird vibe. I think I know why I was getting it, actually, and it didn't go away until I actually got here.

My Dad drove me to the hotel that's hosting the seminar. A few months ago, when I made the reservations, I called too late to get a regular room, and they stuck me with a two bedroom suite that was almost double the price of the blocked off rooms. In depseration, tonight, I asked the guy checking me in if they had anything at all that was cheaper than the suite--I mean, I'm just one person, you know? He was very nice and accomodating. He said all he had in non-smoking was a handicap room; I told him I'd take anything. Handicap rooms, it turns out, don't have a shower in a tub like you usually see. Just a drain in the floor with a curtain around it and hand-held shower nozzle thingie. Which is fine, really, as long as I can wash, after all.

After checking in, it was time to register. I expected the usual crowd and excitement when I walked into the ballroom, but was very surprised. No crowd, just Auntie Cheryl (the one who puts these seminars together,) two vendors, one of whom was taking care of registering people, and Kumu Sonny and Lopaka, looking exactly as they had two years ago, Lopaka with his big smile and Sonny, all dark hair and unfairly green eyes. All of a sudden, I found myself shy around Kumu Sonny, which I've never felt before. I always have respect and love for him, but this time I felt like I wasn't supposed to be there. And Kumu Sonny, you know, he sees thousands of students a year. Hasn't seen me in two and a half years. I felt as if I should turn around and leave them to their talking, but then Kumu Sonny waved and said, "Hi, Jules!" I must have looked like the biggest idiot, with my jaw on the floor because he remembered me. This made my night, until I started to wonder: does he remember me because of A Kona Hema and how he chanted it while we danced at ho'ike? (That was my first performance, which, to me, is the biggest blessing--I wouldn't have it any other way.) Or because I'm the grinning git who's always sitting in class at 8:55 AM with my notebook in front of me and pen in my hand? Or because he's seen me make so many mistakes because I'm always in the front? Or then again, Kumu Sonny actually cares about what he teaches and to whom. Likely he remembers everyone, and that's completely cool.

I then asked the lady who was registering all of us if Hini had shown up yet. She said he had and, even though I haven't seen him and won't until tomorrow, this brightens up my entire life. And then I saw Gabi and also got a chance to talk to Cheryl for a few minutes and ask her who else was coming. It ends up that Auntie Kau'i will be here tomorrow! I went to Poly on Wednesday as soon as I could, but she had already left and I always feel funny calling someone up at home. But I get to see her tomorrow and now I can't wait. I will miss her Saturday class, and Kawehi's as well, as I'm leaving for home Thursday, but at least I do get to see them. I can't wait to tell Kawehi that Spencer and Meghan are here, too; he's always interested in how Spencer's chanting is coming along. He asks, "How's your brother and sister?" And I remind him that they're my cousins, which he waves off and says, "cousins, brothers, sisters...They grew up with you, right?" ^_^ Which is sort of how I feel, and always have.

During all of this I was realizing, this is where I belong. I mean, I know that, I usually do, but, you know. And then I was looking at the books on the vending table and there was one called "The Spirit of Hula." I have this thing where I'll turn to a random page in a book and take whatever it says as a sign, usually three times. I turned to a random page and it said something to the effect of, "Think not that all knowledge is in one halau." This I took to mean that, thank the powers I'm here, and not at home cringing through something that's not even Hula. (I'm not trying to be a snob or elitist, I swear I'm not. It's just... "Rockahula.") I turned to the second random page and it said something that hit home, and really hard. And it was a simple phrase, too, that just landed right on top of me. Of course, I bought the book. The phrase was, "Spirit over blood."

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