Yesterday started out okay. That is if you don’t count the fight I had with a certain tween about the way she was choosing to wear her hair on a day that “celebrities” were supposed to be at the school and the rush, the every loving rush of a Monday morning to get out the door. There is always a bright side. I got to talk to a long lost friend, compare notes on parenting and generally get caught up on life. I needed that. It also made me very aware of the fact that other than friends we already had when we moved here, I’ve not done a great job of connecting. Plus, I missed a wedding this weekend. Then I heard that my friend’s family is probably moving back to our old stomping grounds in Virginia. I was surprised that I was feeling a little green with envy. It would be so nice to show up there again, know my friends, know where to go to church and slip back into life like it was the perfect fitting pair of jeans. Don’t get me wrong. Hawaii fits pretty well. Occasionally living on a rock makes things feel a little snug…like when I’m trying to plan a birthday party by searching Pinterest and I refer to the craft stores here as crap stores.
Jack and I dropped off some meat Ray smoked for his command potluck in honor of hispanic awareness month. Then I decided to be all brave and head into Honolulu to Party City. Quick drive by the piers, turn around and I was there. I even got to chat with another friend on the way. Then I endured the torture that involves finding a parking space. Then a 12inch wide sidewalk. Not even kidding… with Mr. Coordinated insisting on being carried. We got into the store, got what we needed and got out only to be blocked by a delivery truck for over 10 minutes. Wide open spaces, Hawaii is not. We then headed to the commissary. Bad idea. Express line it is. Got home and unloaded just in the nick of time to pick up the girls.
There was also the cake fiasco. I considered making Bria a cake. I thought better of it. The kids don’t mind if I buy one. I don’t stress so much. So I stop at the bakery. No Tangled cake but we can give you a Princess In The Frog cake and leave a spot for you to put a Rapunzel toy. My how nice. You would think the newer of the two movies would be stocked.
I got home, grabbed the mail and found an invitation to a wedding that I would love to attend but I can’t justify the cost. Sigh. Kids I love are growing up and I’m not there to congratulate them. Double sigh. I’m back to pouting. I need an aloha moment but the darn bridge is closed.
I invited some friends to join us for a nacho dinner. Don’t ask. Lots of meat was left over. I thought I was well on the way to being ahead of the curve until I did this.
Melted some cheese and chilis in the microwave so I could wipe up… I sat the pyrex dish on the stove. Looked at the beans and wondered why they weren’t cooking down so I kicked up the eye a bit and went to sweeping up. Then I smelled something. No, the meat wasn’t burning… The beans weren’t… Of course they weren’t because the eye on the stove under the pyrex is the one on. Crap. Smell burning. Grab pot holders. The pyrex looked okay until I barely touched it. Then it popped and broke and sounded like an old cork pop gun. I moved it in time to keep cheese off the hot eye, but not off the stove.
All I could say was “Well played Monday. Well played.” I went to bed thinking Tuesday can’t get here fast enough. I was wrong. It arrived at 4 a.m. with Bria running into my room screaming over a dream. There is also a note on my inbox that our insurance didn’t pay for Jack’s MRI because it wasn’t “authorized.” We’ve been turned into a collections agency. The only reason I know this is because Ray ran the yearly credit report. I swear I wasn’t asking for a do over Monday. Tuesday needs to get with the program!