Late Night Visit

Last night, I was laying in bed, flat on my back, listening to “Transatlanticism” by Death Cab for Cutie, the song that will be the closing death scene in the indie rock tribute musical I started writing two years ago… I'm going to mash it up with the chorus of “Welcome to the Black Parade” by My Chemical Romance, which is the song around which the entire musical is based… why am I sharing this?   I guess to say that I was completely zoned out in thoughts of choreography and costume design, just reaching the brink of “half-asleep,” when something dropped lightly onto my shoulder.  

Immediately, I scrambled frantically out of bed, tore my headphones out of my ears, ripped off my pajamas (in my panic, it seemed logical that I would be safer if I were naked… clothes provide too many folds and footholds for creepy-crawlers), and pawed the wall looking for the light switch.  Eventually I found the switch and the room lit up… but I saw nothing on my bed other than tangled blankets and an ear bud that had somehow detached from my headphones during my battle with the sheets.  With my heart pounding, I shook out my pajamas and put them back on.  Slowly, trembling, I crept over to my bed and mustered the courage to quickly rustle the twisted sheets, then cowered in the corner.  

And out from my bedcovers crawled a gecko about the size of my middle finger.  I stared at it; it cocked its head and stared at me.  In relief, I flopped down on my bed and decided to make friends with the little guy.  He wandered around on my bed for awhile, always just barely escaping my fingers when I tried to catch him, craning his neck right then left, looking all around, flicking his tiny tongue.  Eventually I got tired enough that I shooed him off the bed and went to sleep, but it was fun to have a little visitor… even though he did scare me half to death.  

Luckily, I haven’t had any spider incidents since my employer killed the one in my office a couple weeks ago (knock on freaking wood.)  Neither have I seen any of the monstrous centipedes that every here seems to be so afraid of (evidently they like to hide in bedcovers.)  Oh, I’ve been meaning to share that Harry, the spider that had made it’s home in a web on my patio, has moved away.  The morning after Mark killed the cane spider in my office, I awoke to find that Harry had abandoned his web, which is still hanging where he left it.  I never felt threatened by Harry because he was so stationery… but his webwork was impressive and I respected him more than any spider I’ve ever met.  I was kind of disappointed that he left.  But!  He came back a few days ago… this time to a large potted plant just outside the front entrance hall.  Reasonably, it could be a different spider… but it has all the same markings as Harry, and the potted plant is just around the corner from my patio.  So I’m saying it’s Harry, and I’m welcoming him back.  I might be brave enough to take some close-up shots of his new web.  We’ll see.

As I was leaving the house a few days ago, I saw a huge brown beetle running up the garage door.  I summoned Mark (the landscaper, if you remember) and asked if it was a cockroach.  He looked at my out of the corner of his eye and said, “No… that’s just a plantation bug.”  I was a little relieved… I’ve never seen a cockroach, and although I don’t think I’d be particularly scared, I’m not sure I would be excited to come across one.  But as Mark walked away, he called out over his shoulder, “I mean, most people call them cockroaches… but ‘plantation bug’ doesn’t sound nearly as scary.”  So I encountered my first cockroach—thank God it was outside. 

Other than bugs, spiders, and geckos, the only other wildlife I’ve really come in contact with are the humongous toads.  Mark and his crew have been working to dig up all the weeds, put down layers of red dirt, and lay squares of grass.  Now that the grass is down, toads cover the lawn at night.  This evening I pulled into the driveway, turned on my handy-dandy iPhone flashlight app, shined it into a patch of grass—there were six softball-sized toads all sitting within inches of each other.  So cute. 

Tonight I walked around the (very few) shops in Kilauea before eating dinner at Lighthouse Bistro.  I got the grilled petite sirloin (marinated in soy sauce and pineapple juice), and for dessert I had bananas foster.  It was a pleasant atmosphere, and I have no problem traveling, dining, shopping, and living alone… but I’m ready to be not-alone.  Now that it’s less than a week before I fly home for Julie’s wedding and the holidays, I’m antsy to be home.  I should try to enjoy my last week of warm weather, ocean lullabies, and tropical sunrises… but eh… it will all still be here in January.  I’m ready to see my family… my friends… play with my band… play my recently-tuned piano… pet my cat!!!  I’m actually sort of looking forward to wearing sweaters and curling up under blankets.  I’ve never felt so much pure excitement for Thanksgiving… it’s borderline childhood Christmas Eve syndrome. 

I’ve been blessed with a life that is wonderful in every way.  It’s wonderful to be here in Hawaii.  It will be wonderful to go home.  It will be wonderful to come back to Hawaii in January.  And speaking of wonderful… I’ll leave you with a picture of the glorious sunset I stopped to admire on my way to Kilauea this evening.  Aloha. :)