Aloha, mahalo, and YOU SHUT UP INFINITY!!!

Hello everyone!  So many things have been going on, I've just now had the time to sit down and pour over all of  our photos from Hawaii. We woke up last Sunday at 4am, and we didn't get back to London until about 12 on Monday afternoon.

We were up for about 31 hours. We went to Starbucks in Honolulu, Los Angeles, Surbiton, and Kingston all in one day. Can anyone else say that? NO I DON'T THINK SO. WE WIN.

Now that my extreme jet lag has subsided a bit (I fell asleep in a pub and on a train this week) I can now write about the glory that was Hawaii. And by "glory" I mean "the fun bits we had in between fighting with my family".

I love my family to tiny smitherines, but anyone who has gone on a family "vacation", you know what I mean. (And you also understand the sobbing on a beach and screaming NEVER AGAIN!!! I HATE YOU!! Right? Anyone?)

Highlights from Hawaii:

• Heathrow Airport: We're hardcore jet setters and had enough air miles to upgrade from Economy to FIRST FUCKING CLASS on our next flight from SF to Honolulu flight. We sob tears of arrogant joy

• Somewhere over Greenland: I have the aisle seat at the anus of the plane. (That's how far back I am.) There's a nifty spot right next to my seat where the airplane door is. People like to congregate there when I'm trying to sleep. They open the window on the door, flood the entire plane with light and screech in possibly the most irritating accent I've ever heard about the "TINY ISLANDS" down below. For an hour. Then, some man decides to stand right next to my seat and stretch his legs. He ferociously marches in place yelling about the dangers of DEEP VEIN THROMBOSIS. I prop my "Fuck off" sleeping mask on my forehead and plan their deaths. (And drink wine.)
  

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  "Jack? Is that you? It's me! Kate!"

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  San Fransciso International Airport: Our flight from London was late. We had 25 minutes to get our luggage, go through customs, go through security, and basically run across the entire fucking SF airport. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly a runner. On the verge of my untimely death, we make it with 10 minutes to spare. I contemplate doing a Endzone dance on the front counter, but realize I'm too tired. Mr.Front Desk tells us they gave away our first class tickets because he didn't think we would make it in time. "My! You're fast runners! Gosh. We're sorry about that." I spontaneously combust.

• Kualoa Ranch, Oahu: Look desperately around for Lost filming locations so I can find Jack. Find Kualoa Ranch, they tell me they have a tour with Lost filming locations. I crap my pants. So, we go on the tour. Basically, we spent $20 to see a log used in Jurassic Park, a WWII bunker that "Matthew Fox opened once", a hill where Hurley played golf, and a giant footprint from Godzilla. This all took place in a hundred year old school bus that bounced around so hard I was afraid my boobs were going to fall off. (The left one did. We glued it back on, though.)
  

• Shark's Cove, North Shore: Snorkelled with FISH! Considering fish sort of freak me out, I was a wee bit nervous.However, the fish were actually quite welcoming. One offered me tea. I saw numerous of fish shitting in the water, and from then on noticed the copious amount of fish shit in water. I try really hard to not let this bother me yet suddenly start gagging every time I get water in my mouth. See an eel with mean looking face. Cut myself on coral and become seriously concerned that sharks will be able to smell me.

 

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  Diamond Head and my Pina Coloda

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  The Sheraton, Waikiki: We have an ocean front room on the 24th floor. I have a pina colada and watch sea turtles pop up their little, wrinkly heads for air. We then lay out and work on our pasty, English tans. A guy from the Sheraton stands over me with a mister and asks if I'd like an "ice cold spritz of water?" We, again, shed tears or arrogant joy. "Where the fuck are we?"

• Luau, The Royal Hawaiian, Waikiki: Develop crush on hot (female) hula dancer. Get leid. Get involved in shouting match between my mother and greasy Jersey Girl at the luau's buffet. Some immature words were exchanged, my mom then told her she didn't have any manners, to which she replied:
  

Jersey Girl: "Yeah? Well if I have a problem with someone I JUST KICK THEIR ASS. (She's 5'2, perhaps 270lbs.)

Mom: OH yeah. I'm really afraid that you're going to kick my ass AT A LUAU. (5'8, has a lot of pent up rage.)

JG: Oh. YOU SHOULD BE. (Adds sixth drumstick to her plate.)

Mom: "Don't worry. I'M NOT."

Me: "Shut up." (That'll show her. Biotch.)

JG: "No, YOU SHUT UP."

Me. "Uh...no you shut up." (Are you kidding?)

JG: "NO. YOU SHUT UP."

Me: "...You shut up INFINITY." (HAH! I can't believe I just said that!!)

JG: "Yeah? Well WHY DON'T YOU WEAR A LITTLE BRIGHTER LIPSTICK?"

After the luau. (See my bright lipstick on the straw?)

Me: "Oh. GOOD ONE.'

Downtown Waikiki: We go drunk, late night shopping at tourist shops, Billabong, and The Stupid Factory at 10:30 at night! (Anyone from England will know why this is so exciting.) I buy a mousepad, a pair of jammies that say "Shake your Coconuts!", a big shawl, peanut butter M&Ms and Ritz Cheese Crackers. I am happy.

Kailua, Waikiki, Honolulu, North Shore, Haleiwa, Starbucks, the Taco Bell parking lot, our rental car: Fighting with my family!

"Well, what do YOU want to do then?"
"I don't know! I'm just saying I don't want to do that?!"
"Well if you don't know what you want to do then why do you have a problem with what we're doing?!"
"I DIDN'T SAY THAT!'
"GOD WHY ARE YOU SUCH A BITCH?"
"ME? Why are YOU such a bitch?!!"
"OH MY GOD I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!?!"
"SO WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO THEN?"
"I DON'T KNOOOOOOOOOOW!"

Plane ride from Honolulu to Los Angeles: First-Fucking-Class. Let me tell you about First Class. There was a phone. We got table cloths and cloth napkins. Iain drank about 4 mimosas - for free! We got A FUCKING OMLETTE for breakfast. And it was GOOD. They serve you beverages in real glasses! And the best part? I could actually fucking sleep.

Plane ride from Los Angeles to Heathrow: Back to Ec-o-fucking-nomy class. We're in the bowels of the plane, again. The bitchy flight attendant calls me "Young Lady" and skipped us when giving out drinks/lunch/pretzels THREE different times. My elbow got hit with the food cart 5 different times. The big ass lady next to Iain had to keep getting up to go to the bathroom, each time bringing  a travel sized jar of VASELINE with her. Hemroids? Ashy knees? Dry labia? I DON'T KNOW.

We did have a wonderful trip. We got tanned. Despite the fighting, I got to give my Step Dad shit, take shots of Patrone with my mom, and laugh so hard at my sister I thought I would pee my pants. Moments I wouldn't trade for anything. (Except maybe the chance to fly First Class FOREVER.)

On the Sunday we flew back, my interview in The Observer Woman ran. I'm scanning that shit in as we speak, and I'll have a post on that coming up soon. Oh god, do I have a lot to say about that.