Mike had a four day weekend. Friday, we goofed off (dinner at Jackie Chan’s and Ala Moana shopping). Saturday, we goofed off (Costco, Best Buy, Home Depot). Sunday, we goofed off (Comp USA). Sunday night, we still goofed off, but we took a Hawaii newcomer to Waikiki. He was appropriately bowled over by such sights as the sunset and the walk-through aquarium at the DFS Galleria. And, like us when we first arrived, he still can’t quite wrap his mind around the fact that he lives here now.

It’s a lot to take in when you arrive, especially since you usually end up in Waikiki at some point fairly early in the game (first night for me when Mike took me to the Hale Koa for dinner and then we walked the beach from Fort Derussy to the Duke Kahanamoku statue). In fact, you can see a live view of Duke and the surrounding beach here. Duke is the original surfer dude.

Waikiki belongs to the tourists for the most part. But you still see locals strolling the sidewalks and enjoying the views. Sometimes they even bring their pets:

I’ve seen these people before, once in front of the Hilton Hawaiian with the cat in a sling, riding like a baby strapped to its mother’s chest. I didn’t have the camera with me that day. That picture was a hundred times better than this one. The kitty is on a leash, though you can’t see that here. He didn’t seem to mind the crowds or the noise in the least bit. The best pet sight I ever saw, though, was in Paris. Mind you, I was eighteen, lit up on Beaujolais and the joy of being sans parents in the City of Light when my college friend and I saw a dog in a diaper strolling along past the Louvre. If you’ve ever been to Paris, and had to dodge the piles of dog shit on the sidewalks, you’ll know how extraordinary this sight was. I didn’t know that Parisiens let their dogs crap everywhere that day, but it didn’t matter. A dog in a diaper is hysterical to a tipsy teenager no matter what. It was almost as good as the old pervert in the trench coat who wanted to pay my friend and me to take pictures of him naked. Perhaps he wanted to take pictures of us and just got his translation wrong, but it was amusing nonetheless. He assured us he had a “very large p*nis” but, alas, we refused. (No, I am not afraid to use the word, but I’d hate to see the hits I’d get with that particular search phrase.) 😉

As for writing? None accomplished this past week. I feel sort of like the sting ray here, pressed against the glass and wondering why I can’t move forward. I haven’t found the mindset again. The muse is gamboling in a forest far, far away. This weekend is RWA. No guest speakers, though. We’re having a Maui Writers’ Conference report from the members who attended. Should be fun, I think. Next month is Steve Goldsberry, UH professor, multi-published author, and author of a new title from Writer’s Digest called The Writer’s Book of Wisdom.