Written July 19th. I’m so miserable. As a result of marinating in sweat 24 hours a day, I’m one big rash. I cut my leg shaving in the shower this morning and didn’t realize it until after I sat down on my bed and left a blood stain on the sheet the size of my head. Housekeeping will no doubt think we’ve been slaughtering hogs in here. Also, the spud is asleep, laying on her bed facing me, sending the nastiest morning breath EVER my way. She spent a good part of yesterday farting the most noxious gas and then laughing, making me want to fucking throttle her. My face is red and hot and itchy. The Priority boxes the post office has aren’t nearly big enough to hold the stuff I want to mail home, which means I need to find a place to buy boxes, and then haul a big-ass box to the post office. But we’re doing a bus tour of the island and seeing a bunch of cool stuff and sitting on an air-conditioned bus, so that should be really damn cool. I hope like hell I don’t run out of space on the memory stick. I’ve been a picture taking fool. But I went through the pictures and deleted a bunch of blurry pictures, which freed up a lot of space. Hopefully I’ll be okay.

7:12 am
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So, that was a LONG fucking day. We left my parents’ hotel at about 8:30 and got back at 4:30ish. In between, we spent most of the day on a small, packed bus with pretty much nonexistent air conditioning, ass cheek to ass cheek with the fidgety spud who has very sharp elbows and no concept of staying in her own space. We ate lunch at The Crouching Lion Inn, which had horribly slow service. Now, I KNOW that there’s this thing called “Hawaii Time”, where everything moves a whole lot slower and you shouldn’t expect to get your food quickly because everyone’s moving at a slower, more relaxed pace. HOWEVER, when the bus driver (Cousin Dave – “If I cut my wrist and you cut your wrist, the blood that comes out is the same color, and so that means we are family. So for today I will call you Cousin, and you can call me Cousin Dave.”) tells you that you have an hour to eat and it takes 45 minutes to get your food (and you’re hot and cranky to begin with), and you’re a spaz about being on time and not making other people wait for you, Hawaii Time can kiss my butt. Also, Cousin Dave highly recommended the Kalua (?) Pork sandwich, which was pulled pork, and while it wasn’t bad, it sure didn’t live up to Southern BBQ standards, either. [REDACTED]
10:03 pm