To Blog or Not to Blog

I am losing my desire to blog. No one reads this crap, so why am I still doing this? Apparently I desire to keep up the pretense that there are actually one or two creative cells left in my body that have not been replaced by fat.


Last week I wrote this really hilarious thing about the challenges of traveling with fucking retards other people, but it was about as mean as it was accurate, so I look it down.


I really hate my job right now but I can’t really blog about that (lessons learned, right?). There is a distinct possibility of a major change and more money there soon so I think I will just leave that whole drama alone and continue my zen like mantra: “8% raise, another week of vacation, 8% raise, another week of vacation, 8% raise, another week of vacation….”


I am so tired of America, and I am on my own this weekend, so I have decided to spend it with the French. Both their movies and their wine. Friday night was the glorious Juliette Binoche (who may just be my favorite human being and is totally not a retard) in Copie Conforme (Certified Copy). I enjoyed a nice $30 Sancerre along with Juliette.


Last night was Catherine Deneuve in Potiche (Trophy Wife) and a $25 rosé from Aix en Provence.


Tonight I think it will be L'autre Monde (Black Heaven) with Grégoire Leprince-Ringuet who I have had a crush on since Les Chansons d'Amour (Love Songs). I don’t know what I will drink tonight. It should be a bottle of Perrier, but we’ll see.


This (this) is very annoying isn’t it (it)?


I haven’t blogged about Kaua’i. Mostly because it was sad. I had only been to Kaua’i once before. It was 2004. We rented a house up in Hanalei. I remember beautiful mountains, waterfalls, rain, rain, rain, and mosquitos. It was me, Mark, Lynnette, and Marie. This trip was supposed to be a celebration of Lynnette’s retirement but it became a remembrance of Marie’s life. She died just before we left.


I felt Marie’s present with us a lot on this trip. I could see her picking up shells, sand, coconuts, small palm trees, and trying to smuggle them back to the mainland. I could see her sitting in an expensive restaurant asking if they had soup, a small soup. I could hear her quietly chastising me in that weird little voice like Butters from South Park when I threw out the ridiculous amounts of used food that everyone insisted on placing in Tupperware and filling up the fridge all week.


So many trips with her: Italy, France, many times to Hawai’i. Then suddenly she is not with us. It’s so weird when you don’t see someone every day and then they die. While the lost is painful, it’s different. Delayed. Prolonged. I miss you Marie.


Sadness and retards other people challenges aside, Kauai was great actually. Of course we flew First Class. God have we even met?


Mark rented an amazing house right on the ocean:



The Po’ipu / Koloa area has a great little upscale grocery store called Living Foods Market perfectly designed for my people. Other first world problems were addressed by a wonderful fish shop and a nice wine store.


Hanalei was as gorgeous as the first time.



And the canyon.





And the red dirt.





If you go to a farmer’s market and then a good grocery store and you make cold soba noodles, a tomatoes, basil, and goat cheese salad, and then a corn salad people will think you are a good cook and will do dishes the rest of the week.





Do you know that on Kaua'i there are all sorts of fish ponds and little rivers built by the Menehune way, way before the Hawaiians got there? It's true! The Menuhune were hairy little people who escaped from Java thousands of years ago and moved to Hawai'i for the same reason everyone else does. Here is some proof:


I am pretty sure I some some Menehune when I was standing in line at Puka Dog in Po'ipu:







OK. That is all I’ve got. Maui in 6 weeks……








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