Living on a rock in the middle of the Pacific

On the days when we remember that we live near the beach, we go outside and this is our view:

Not too shabby right?  When people ask us how we like living here, it's hard to be humble about living in paradise.  We drive down the coast or quietly sit and watch the sun set over the water, I ask Randy, "can you believe this is where we live?"

But don't be fooled by the pretty colors.

Life on a tropical rock has it's share of problems, too. Yes, it is like being on vacation every day and I realize I don't have room to complain.  But there are some unique things that make life here, life.

Nature:

A) "RAAANDYYY!!!"

That usually means one thing: I just found a cockroach.

Cockroaches are the norm here.  Randy has a hat with a cartoon picture of a cockroach with the caption, "Hawaii's state bird."  And it doesn't matter how Spic & Span clean your house may be... they will make cameo appearances no matter what.

Now, the louder I yell, typically indicates the status of its well-being.  "Randy, there's a friend over here" simply means, there's a dead cockroach on its back.  "RAAANDY!!!" is code for he needs to come deal with the small pterodactyl.  For Randy's last birthday, I gave him a Critter Catcher which we found only works in this first scenario because if it's still alive:

• there's a possibility that it will FLY away (just the other day, I thought a small bat had flown into the house)
• the cockroaches here are too big and won't fit in this little contraption

Also, because they're so big, we don't really kill them because dead cockroach guts make a huge ugly mess that no one wants to clean up.  So if possible, we'll Randy will trap it in a cup and carry it outside, usually squirming and yelling (Randy, not the cockroach.)

B) Mosquitos

These little buggers LOVE me. We went to an outdoor function a few weeks ago.  By the time we left, I had about 14 bites; 6 were in the first five minutes.

This past winter, we had unusually long stretches of rain which made for perfect breeding conditions for these little f*ckers.  If I heard one buzzing around at night while in bed, I would hide under the sheet, choosing the uncomfortableness of sleeping in my own sweat rather than relinquishing my blood as sacrifice.

I can't leave the house without sunscreen and bug spray. So I'm usually a greasy, sunscreened, DEET-smelling hot mess.  Attractive, I know.

C) Geckos

Cockroaches are aren't the only critter variety that we share space with on the daily.  I see no less than three geckos in my house every day; one fell on me while watching TV.  I've never moved off a couch so quickly in my life.  Now if they would just EAT said mozzies, that would make them more welcome.  But they don't seem to listen when I yell "go do your job!" as they scurry across my ceiling.

D) Random wildlife

• Chickens: they're everywhere - the parking lot of the market/ Costco, side of the road, walking to the gym. 
• Squirrels: they're not cute and furry here.  I call them eel squirrels because they look like eels with small little legs
• Cats: like the chickens, there are feral cats all over the Turtle Bay property.  Randy feared that we almost had a new pet a few weeks ago when one showed up at our door.  

E) Birds

Ok, how can birds be annoying, you ask.  Well at 6:13 on a Sunday morning, they are definitely a pain in my arse.  Especially these birds, which I refer to as the CP-30 and R2-D2 birds, who have a daily conversation outside my open bedroom window in this odd, tech-tronic chirping manner.  And for those who know me, disrupting my slumber is never a good idea. 

F)  Other random bug-related issues:

• the snails here are huge; I think they're on steroids
• frogs come out at night on the golf course next to us and we almost stepped on them walking home
• last week after the rain, when there were no trade winds, we had to walk through a cloud of gnats.  Randy was wearing about 50 dead gnats on his shirt while walking to the beach
• I have been thinking of wearing ear plugs at night, in fear that one of the 5 random bugs that live in my house will crawl in my ear while sleeping.  I was told at our local urgent care that is way more common than you would imagine. #NOPE

Proximity to anywhere:

We live in what is considered the country, about an hour or so outside of Honolulu.  We've learned that even though we live on a small-ish island, everything is "far." Granted, where we live on the North Shore, there is only a 2-lane highway to get in/out.  Add the visitors in their rented minivans, convertible Mustangs, Jeeps and the countless tour buses to the equation, and that makes for a mess of a commute anywhere you go, at any time of day.

There is a stretch of highway near Laniakea Beach, aka Turtle Beach, where tourists will stop to park and cross the highway to the beach, which in turn, backs up traffic for sometimes miles.  When this happens, it can take about 40 mins to drive the 9 miles off the North Shore. #damnturtles

I mentioned in my previous post that I have family here on the island who I was very excited to spend more time with...I think we've been there twice to visit in the last 8 months.  And they know they're always welcome to visit us, too.  But they will say, it's far. I get it.

Miscellaneous first world island problems:

Humidity:

• I'm always sweating. I've gotten used to taking two (usually cold) showers per day.  And on those occasional three-shower days, you get used to the damp towel waiting for you.
• When it's really humid, our hardwood floors become damp and slippery.

Grocery shopping:

• I miss Trader Joe's.  Randy laughs at this but I think I simply miss the convenience of it. And the variety of snacks.   
• I had visions of grandeur that I'd cook for Randy all the time once we moved.  Costco is an hour away, shopping is expensive at the local market and good luck finding everything you need there.
• One market is closed on Sundays.  And they don't sell alcohol.

All in all, these are hardly things to complain about - but on those days, after your third cold shower, and you're doused in bug spray and you just sat in turtle traffic for an hour... you often miss the 10 different types of restaurants within a mile of an air conditioned house with a pantry full of Trader Joe's snacks.

Aloha nui loa

04Dec 2016
El Ranchito Restaurant
Corona del Mar, CA

This was the last time I had an anxiety attack.

And what brought me to where I am now.

I had just returned to Orange County after a few days in Hawaii with my mom; we had gone to Oahu to pay our respects to my grandmother's brother who had recently passed away.  Although it was under dire circumstances for our visit, it allowed me the chance to meet my extended family, now going into a 4th generation growing up on the island.  I was enveloped by my new family who welcomed me with open arms, warm hugs and little ones who smiled and called me Auntie.

I came back to CA feeling a whole mess of different emotions: sad, from having to say goodbye to my uncle, but also excited knowing I now had a LOT of "new" cousins; tired from the travel; happy to see Randy after being gone all week; hangry because well, that's the norm; but mostly uneasy, as I was feeling a bit lost.

Randy picked me up to go to lunch and we headed towards Corona del Mar. Halfway en route, I remembered it was the day of the annual Christmas Walk, which in the past, has always been a festive time.  But due to my volatile mix of moods, I didn't have the patience to hassle with the crowds and holiday drivel.

(I know, bah-humbug.  I was being a scrooge for sure.)

But we were almost there so Randy suggested we check it out, if we're not feeling it, we'll go somewhere else.  So we park and walk towards the center of the storm but the moment I turned the corner onto PCH, the jubilant atmosphere could not brighten the ominous clouds in my head.

Before we left, I walked into El Ranchito to use the restroom and after a few seconds while standing in line, I could feel the anxiety attack quickly creep on.  Blurred vision ensued and my peripheral started closing in on me.  And then I started sweating.  I ran out of there, blindly yelled to Randy, "WE NEED TO GO!  WE NEED TO GO NOW!" He looked at me confused but followed me as I frantically scoured through the sea of white, between the saloned blonds with their Louis Vuitton bags and David Yurman jewelry, past the paisley shirts worn by well-groomed douche-baggery natives, and beyond the countless Land Rovers and Maseratis, back to my car.*

As I paced along Avocado Street ranting, "I can't do this anymore!  I can't!" waving my arms about like a crazed person, Randy asks what just happened.  And I said, "HAIR!! BOOBS!! LIPS!!  They all just exploded in there! Everything in there was FAKE!  I can't live around this anymore!"

Two months later, we were on a plane to visit Oahu and the Big Island in the hopes that I could convince Randy that we should move to Hawaii.

Randy and I had previously talked about moving out of Orange County but our conversations were mostly hypothetical.  Nothing was wrong with OC; we both had comfortable lives and it was what we knew.  I had been living there for almost 23 years and Randy had grown up in Huntington Beach and spent most of his adult life in Newport and HB. We had a tight social circle of friends, my nephews were only an hour away, and I was happily content with my 7 gym memberships and close accessibility to two of the best malls in the country.

But I knew deep down that Orange County wasn't truly home for me and there was something else missing, somewhere else, I needed to be.

Although I had only visited a few times - twice with my parents when I was younger and twice as an adult -  Hawaii has always held a special place in my heart.  I attribute that to my beloved Grandma Cruz who always considered the islands her home.  As a child, I joyously sat next to her watching old episodes of Hawaii Five-O and Magnum PI, listen to her point out Hawaiian landmarks while sharing her memories of living there.  For several years I danced hulu through my ballet troupe (I know, truly authentic, eh?) and thought, "duh, I'm a natural, after all, I'm Hawaiian, aren't I?"  And my favorite times were when my unkos and aunties would visit from HI, they'd all sit around the kitchen table, laughing and talk story all day.  And so I grew up loving all 'tings Hawaiian.

I pondered a move to Hawaii in 2005; I had just gotten divorced and wanted a fresh start.  I flew out with my mom and by the time I left the island, I had three job offers and an open invitation from my uncle to stay with them temporarily until I found my own place.

But in the end, I was only running away and I knew my problems would simply follow me across the Pacific.

So thankfully, I decided to stay put in CA.

Fast forward 12 years, I felt knew the timing was better. I was in a healthy relationship, I had a stable job that afforded me a comfortable lifestyle, I wasn't running away from anything anymore.

Instead, I was running towards something.

19Jan 2018: A huge change was in store for Randy and I as we boarded our flight to Honolulu with our one-way tickets.  We jointly signed a mortgage on a condo, packed up my entire life in a crate and shipped it over with my car.  We were going to be working from home a mere two feet away from each other, EVERY. DAY., and we had never lived together. Yeah, what could go wrong?  #wemustbecrazy

These days, after our work day ends, we still have plenty of daylight to go enjoy our island life.  Spare time is spent outside or at the (ONE, yes, one) gym.  And most of our stress comes from coordinating dinner around the sunset, remembering to put on mosquito repellent, and what day should we make the hour drive to Costco.

Don't get me wrong - it's still life. We still need to work, pay bills, and figure out how to feed my face every day.  But it's not too shabby when the crashing waves are a quick 7 minute, carefree walk away.

No more Newport mommies running around in their athleisure Lululemons, no one asking what diet you're on this week, no one humble bragging about their new LV bag (#blessed bullshit), no overheard conversations of recent rejuvenation surgeries, no one asking what car you drive, no more suggestions of where to get hair and eye lash extensions. * No more nonsense.

My life has become blissfully simple.  I'm home.

Aloha nui loa.

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* My over exaggeration of stereotypical Orange County is written in jest and I'm only making a distinction to the complete opposite of the life I wanted to live.  Everyone chooses happiness in their own way and I choose to live mine in shorts with sandy toes and salty, wind-blown hair.