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Saturday, December 29, 2007

Apparently, because I'm white, it makes me an asshole when I don't like people waking up my sick 2-month-old with illegal fireworks

I just had my first experience of being called a haole bitch and being told to go back to the mainland. I tell you, I'm finding Hawaii more and more charming every day.

What happened was this. For some reason, some people in my neighborhood feel compelled to set off fireworks every night. They usually start right after we have put Zeke to bed (around 7 pm), but they are sporadic and not big bright ones so it's hard to tell where they are coming from. But tonight, at 7:15, I heard some really loud ones, and saw a big red flash outside my window. Immediately after that, I heard Zeke, who has been suffering from a cold and therefore sleeping particularly badly, start to cry. So I went to his room and rocked him back to sleep. At around 7:30, I heard the fireworks again, and looking out the window I could see exactly where they were coming from. I ran downstairs and told Jason, "keep an ear out for the baby, I'm going to tear some ass." The fireworks (and they were huge) were coming from a couple of blocks over, and I ran over and found a huge group of people milling around in the street, having a bit of a house party around the fireworks. I walked up to the group and said, "could you stop with the fireworks, please? they're illegal and they keep waking up my baby." At which point, two women started walking towards me, in full head-shaking mode (as if to say, "oh no she di'int"), yelling, "oh, yah, haole bitch? why don't you say it to my face?" This confused me a bit, because as far as I could tell, I was saying it to her face, so I said, "I am saying it to your face. Stop setting off the fireworks." And she said, "well, you could say it nicely." So I said, "OK, fine. Would you please stop setting off the fireworks? In addition to being illegal and not allowed in this complex, it's waking up my baby and it's rude and inconsiderate." Then this big Samoan guy said, "oh yah, lady? if you don't like the idea why don't you just go back to the mainland?" I rolled my eyes, and contemplated explaining to him that setting off fireworks isn't an idea, it's an act, but this probably would have gone right over his head, so I just said, "Give me a break, dude." And then everyone started yelling and getting in my face, "oh no, you give us a break, bitch. Fuck you, bitch." So I turned around and said, "never mind. I'll just call the police." And I did. I also sent the security dude over there, and I'm reporting them to management, and since I have the addresses, they're all going to be fined. On the other hand, they don't know who I am or where I live, but if anyone bothers me, I'll just sic Jason on them, because he got a Bowflex for Christmas so he'll kick some ass for me.

Monday, December 24, 2007

New York money, but with none of the New York advantages...

I'm sitting in my upstairs office in the new house. There are 4 neighbors whose houses are in close proximity -- I can hear activity in all 4. All day long I've had to listen to the shitty Hawaiian versions of Christmas carols coming from the radio of the people who live behind us, with occasional 20 minute bouts of their shitty little dog yipping. I can hear my neighbor next door blowing his nose in the shower. I can hear kids playing in the yard on the other side of us. Only in Hawaii can you spend almost half a million dollars on a house and still feel like you're living in a tenement.

a little star is born...

So Zeke wasn't an elf in the school christmas play. He was a star, along with the other babies in the infant class. The teachers marched the tiniest babies out and rolled out a crib containing the rest and sang "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." The role of the children was to look cute in their onesies decorated with stars. They succeeded. Then they got presents from Santa. It was too adorable -- Jason and I both cried.

Friday, December 21, 2007

My personal act of rebellion

I love Zeke's school. The place is open and colorful and cheerful, the staff is lovely, and the caregivers in the infant room are wonderful with the babies. But they're going a little overboard with the Christmas business. Not that I have a problem with Christmas -- it's a lovely holiday -- but there doesn't seem to be any acknowledgement at all of any possibility that Zeke might not actually be Christian. Everyone I meet talks about how it's his first Christmas, he's got a Christmas stocking in his crib, they're having a Christmas program today (in which he will be featured as an elf -- Jason and I are seriously going to lose our shit when we see him), etc etc. I refuse to be one of those assholes who throws a Christmas greeting back in the giver's face by saying, "actually, we're Jewish and we don't celebrate Christmas" -- I think it's rude and mean and totally unnecessary. So I had to send a message more subtly. I sent Zeke to school today wearing his onesie that says "save the date - my bar mitzvah 2020". It'll probably go right over their heads, though, because I'm sure that not a single person working there has any freaking clue what a bar mitzvah is. But still. It made me feel better.

Thursday, December 20, 2007

The 8 week old clothes horse

I was just organizing Zeke's clothes drawers, and came up with an enormous pile of onesies. This isn't counting the ones that he can't wear right now because they're too big, or the ones in the wash, or the one he's wearing, or the extra outfits he keeps at daycare. This is only the ones that fit him, in his drawer right now. He could wear a different outfit every day for over a month and not wear the same thing twice. I've never had that many clothes in my life.

Monday, December 17, 2007

Peanut School

Zeke had his first day of daycare today. It's a lovely place with a very warm and nurturing staff. The teachers in the infant room are all big bosomed, soft-armed older ladies that seem tailor-made for holding and comforting babies. I was a little nervous (and feeling a bit guilty) when I dropped Zeke off this morning, but when the teacher picked him up he smiled at her and I sighed and knew he would be fine. The school is very detail-oriented -- even a 7 week old gets a daily progress report. So when I picked Zeke up at noon, I was pleased to learn that he had had two short naps (and at what times), had two bottles (how much and at what times), and that he enjoyed rocking in the rocker and was "very observant of the room, his friends, and his caregivers." So hilarious. The kid's been in school one day and already he has friends -- I've been here 10 months and I barely know a soul.

Monday, December 03, 2007

Two signs that the apocalypse is upon us...

1. I got my hospital bill for delivering Zeke. Uncomplicated vaginal delivery: $12,000. Holy shit. Thank god for insurance (though it only covers part of it, so don't anybody expect expensive Christmas presents from us this year).

2. With a completely straight face, the local weather forecasters are describing our current conditions as a "cold front." High of 83, low of 73.