My baby brother is kewl

My youngest brother, Sam, is one of my favorite people in the world. I've thought so ever since he was a little kid -- he was always smart and funny and looking at the world in a new and unexpected way. He has the left brain of a money guy but the soul of an artist, and I respect him enormously for it, and for his willingness to make an effort to create art, be it music or photography or whatever catches his fancy. He has a band called Lipstik, and they play gigs and write and record songs and get stuff on iTunes and put themselves out there. They may make it big, they may not, but props to them for giving it all they've got. Here's their new video for "Honey Eyes." According to the band, it's "a meditation on the songwriting process and on the dual lives we all tend to lead."

Yay!! I said something that wasn't totally inappropriate!!

It's no secret that I share my father's tendency to say wildly inappropriate things in public. With a certain gift for the gab comes an inability to keep my mouth shut, I guess. Just last week, I was waiting in line at the post office, and the line was growing behind me while some lady carried on a long conversation with the postal worker behind the counter. For a long time she blathered on about non-post-office-related matters, while people impatiently tapped their feet and checked their watches behind her. Then she asked a question about online postal services, saying, "you know, I don't like having to come here if I don't absolutely have to." And before I could stop myself, I said out loud, "yeah, neither does anybody else, lady, so let's cut the chatter, shall we?" Oops. She gave me a dirty look and hurried away.

Saturday night, Jason and I went to see a high school football game at Kapolei High School. It's about 3/4 of a mile away, so we thought it would be a nice walk and fun to get out of the house.

A beautiful night for a game

We had a really nice time hanging out and watching the game, even though the game wasn't very good. Kapolei's team had a couple of drives in which they were able to string together some good plays, but for the most part they looked pretty inept.

Jason has lost all feeling in his leg taking this picture

Kapolei's team didn't match up well against the Mililani Trojans. I think the final score was 31-7.

The high school band, on the other hand, was pretty impressive. I don't even remember if my high school team had a marching band, but if they did, I don't think they were as good as these kids were. They played tunes that were recognizable and upbeat, on key, and they marched in pretty tight formation and seemed to be having a good time. As they walked off the field from doing their half-time performance, I turned to Jason and said, "that's the most organized and cohesive group Kapolei's had on the field all night!" A guy sitting right in front of us who looked to be a couple of years older than us chuckled and gave me an appreciative smile, and a few minutes later, two of his kids walked up, and they were band kids. So I had paid him and his family a compliment!

KHS's rockin' band

Jason looked at me and said, "hey, look at that! you said something that didn't insult anyone!" I laughed and replied, "I know, I was just thinking the same thing. Maybe my streak is broken!"

Don't anyone hold their breath, though.

Aloha?? Anyone??

Yesterday I walked out of my house at about 2:45 in the afternoon to go run some errands, only to discover that I had a flat tire. A pain in the ass, but nothing catastrophic, as I have a full spare (no crappy temporary spares for Mercedes!) and I was paying attention the day they taught us how to change a flat in driver's ed. The fact that I'm huge and cumbersome and exhausted was a little bit of an impediment, but the tire needed to be changed, so I sucked it up and got to it. I dragged the (heavy, dirty) spare tire out of the trunk, loosened the lug nuts, and jacked the car up. I was sitting on the ground as I was doing this, so in addition to getting tire shmutz all over my hands and clothes, my butt and legs were getting all dirty and grass stained, plus the size of my belly makes it difficult to sit on the ground comfortably in any event, let alone maneuver big heavy tires on and off of a wheel, all while trying to hold the spare tire in place and line up the lugs at the same time so that I could screw it in place. What I'm saying is, I got the job done, but it wasn't pretty, and to anyone passing by, it would have been obvious that I was having a difficult time.

Oh, yes, did I mention that it was the afternoon, and that people were trickling home from work, and students (including able-bodied high school boys) were trickling home from school, and generally there were many people passing by who could see me? People that I see in the neighborhood every day when I'm out walking the dog or getting the mail or going for a stroll with my husband? People who say hi to me and ask me how my pregnancy is progressing, and therefore know who I am and that I'm hugely pregnant? People like the leasing agent who drove by with some prospective tenants, slowed down to look at me, and then kept driving? Or the landscaping guys, who also slowed down to look at me and then kept going? Or my next door neighbor's 17-year-old son, who walked by me, and was at most 10 feet away, but resolutely kept his eyes on a point in front of him so that he wouldn't have to acknowledge my presence? Yeah, them. All of those people, who know me, who are well aware of my condition, who saw that I was having a hard time, and not fucking one of them stopped to see if they could give me a hand. Say what you will about the South (and I lived there for almost half my life, so I am generally not one to bad-mouth it, but plenty of people do), but if this had happened in Atlanta, not only would multiple people have fallen all over themselves to stop and change the tire for me, but they (or their spouses) would have send me casseroles afterwards and called to make sure I was OK. Hawaiians like to brag about the "aloha spirit" that pervades these islands and makes them such a hospitable, friendly place, but I sure didn't see much evidence of it. Maybe we just need to move to a better neighborhood.

Happy 5768

Tonight is the start of Rosh Ha'Shana, the Jewish New Year. It's the beginning of the Days of Awe, the 10 days leading up to Yom Kippur (the day of atonement), during which time a person is supposed to settle up spiritually, both with people and with God, making right the wrongs of the past year, so that the next year can begin with a clean slate. So tonight I will be going to synagogue, eating apples dipped in honey, and renewing my efforts to be a good and loyal friend, daughter, sister, wife and soon, mother. I wish all of my friends and family a happy, healthy and prosperous year, and may I be worthy of the love and support I am showered with on an embarrassingly regular basis.

I need a book

I've been plowing through all of the books on my must-read list, and I've hit a bit of a lull. Stuff that I've heard so much about -- The Memory Keeper's Daughter, Water for Elephants, to name two -- have left me feeling decidedly unsatisfied. I want to read something that blows me away, like The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay or The House of the Spirits or One Hundred Years of Solitude or Handling Sin. Something smart and original and unique. Any suggestions would be most appreciated, unless it's for an Ayn Rand book, because I think she sucks.

In other news, my life is incredibly boring these days. Work is kind of slow, and I'm so tired all the time that I can't really do much of anything without needing a nap (or a pee break) after 15 minutes. I spend my days either working or reading or watching U.S. Open tennis and Law and Order reruns, and my nights trying to get comfortable or making 3 a.m. runs to Safeway for Pepto Bismol to battle heartburn. Exciting, exciting stuff. Hence my need for a great book.