Notes on Hawaii.

Nothing particularly new to say here but I figured I'd gather some of my bitchiest crybaby crap thoughts here.

But first...- a quick list of things that are awesome.. Because really there ARE ton of awesome things and I am often reminded in life that looking on the bright side and maintaining a positive attitude is super important in order to be a proper and well adjusted adult human being. Am I right? (Duh I'm always right)

1. Beautiful beauty wrapped in a snug blanket of more super pretty beautifulness with a flipping cherry on top.  Majestic green mountains with waterfalls and palm trees, hibiscus flowers and unreal beaches with white sand and crystal blue water where sea turtles reside and tropical fish of all different magical colors swim. High fives all around for awesome fantastic 

beautifulness 

Sounds great right? I mean it's a magical place that millions of people visit every year. A place of aloha dreams and mahalo Shaka brah, shoots and leis and Dole pineapple whip that folks save for and plan romantic honeymoons to and stuff. 

and yes, that's my whole list jammed into one little paragraph.

Except I kinda hate it a little bit (or a lot, whatever) 

Here is an example of a typical day in my life.

Wake up and cover all exposed skin in loads and loads of sunscreen. 

Take kids to school and try to get in a workout before the blazing hot fireball in the sky starts shooting it's laser beams at me and burning the shit out of me leaving oozing weeping blisters and a tender coating of red inflamed flesh on my entire body. 

Go to my safe air conditioned lonely bedroom to cool down. 

Do some housework and work on my business. 

Realize that it's nearly time to venture out to pick up children and start panicking. 

Get in vehicle and drive past a bazillion brave and acclimated people riding bikes towards the school to pick up their children and wonder how the hell they are not being sizzled into tiny bits of charred flesh and start to feel like some sort of freak for not being able to handle a bike ride outdoors at 2pm without burning and sweating and crying. 

Start crying, avoiding awkward eye contact with all other parents while waiting for kids in fear that if anyone talks to me I'll blurt out "I hate Hawaii please help me escape!" 

people here are so damn nice. So so nice. Inviting me to the beach and to come work out with them in the middle of the day... outside. Um no. I can't. Really. For serious. It's not fun. 

Also, sand is annoying. 

Okay okay I know....

How bout this? I'll make ya a deal. I'll write something happy next time. Maybe.  

So, tell me. Have you ever lived somewhere you didn't like? Why were you there and how did you cope?

Oh yeaaah. This.

I feel like this is something people do-start a blog, promise to keep up and then  totally forget about it. Obviously it's something 'I' do. So here I am again, making promises to try to keep writing. I even thought about starting a whole new blog but figured why bother if this is still floating around out there, I might as well just go with it. Okay, so, done with the explanations and excuses. Most of what I've written about in the past is about being a mom, and a wife and a woman who is just trying to figure shit out as I go. I suppose that's a good place to start. I feel like I have important stuff to say sometimes and nobody to say it to. So this is my solution. I guess I'll just dive right in with some crap- I live in Hawaii now and I don't super love it. I feel guilty and stupid even saying that, which only adds to my misery. Sometimes I want to lay it all out on Facebook but again that just adds to the feeling stupid part. So here's a big long thing I wrote and then decided was too annoying for Facebook but is perfectly okay in a blog (right?)   depression is like living in a deep dark place with no proverbial 'light at the end of the tunnel'. But there is another kind of sadness. The kind that is not like living at the bottom of a well. The kind where we CAN see the light but it's really far away and while we might have all the tools and all the support and all the hope and knowledge to know for sure it's going to be alright,  it's still really really hard. Part of it is very specific to being a military spouse. That feeling of instability, of being uprooted, ungrounded. Sometimes it feels so light, so free, so good to know I am capable of just packing up and moving on and making a great life wherever the Navy sends us and making a lasting impression of positivity and love anywhere we go. But there is a dark side. Laying all that love on the line, putting in all the work and positivity and then having to leave it behind is hard. What's even harder is seeing those communities and friendships and things you once were a part of thriving without you. Moving forward and expanding and becoming exactly what you had hoped they would but not being there to partake in the fruits of your labor. I suppose this is what true love is. Looking back and appreciating that you had the opportunity to be a part of it to begin with  and fighting the urge to be hurt by growth in your absence and knowing that you still have a million chances to do other great things.  

Oh and here is a picture of a beautiful butterfly in my yard- it's symbolism or whatever.