eating mac & cheese oh yes i'm eating mac & cheese i think i like it!

I backed out of a camping trip with Ben and the Boys (more on them later), and while I've enjoyed watching "Real Simple" and "Everyday Food" (two PBS shows to which I have an inexplicable and nerdy devotion) without Ben's derisive snorts at the segments on organizing your gift wrap, I'm mulling a plan to show up for the second night at the cabin.

But that probably won't happen because I don't have a reliable car. Plus, it's good to have a night alone once in a while that gives me a taste of what I'd be doing if I were single. So what am I doing?

Poring over my husband's profile on Facebook.

Funny how it gives me the same giddy, nervous feeling I once had when we started our courtship over Friendster, as I pondered the tone of my next message - flirty or informational, revealing of the fact that I had memorized his profile or full of calculated ignorance?

Or maybe I'm just thrilled by the fact that I'm eating Stouffer's macaroni and cheese and not a steaming bowl of lentils for the first time in two weeks, and am about to watch last week's episode of LOST, this time without human interruption.

If I ever write a novel, I am going to have to weave in the weird things certain kinds of people say here in Hawaii. They're not pidgin--it's something more subtle than that. Maybe local-ese?

Example:

Instead of saying "You may turn in the same paper for this class and another, so it will count twice," a professor who speaks thusly said, "This paper can double count."

Or yesterday, my principal was describing a new program for managing student data. One glitch, he told us, is that you can't merge the data from another program--so you have to "double enter" it.

I've never heard this use of double anywhere else but here. I can trace it as far back as playing Chinese jump rope, when depending on who was the boss of the game, you may or may not be allowed to "double jump."

Another, more grating, quirk is the prissy Japanese schoolmarmish one of over-enunciating T's. A certain school administrator does this when s/he (see how I'm leaving it totally anonymous?) is obviously wishing to flex his/her authoritative muscle. S/he'll be like, "We must base our instruction on day-TAH," or "We must all be on time to tomorrow's meet-TING." To achieve this super-effective (if you're trying to alienate your inferiors) speech pat-TERN, simply pull the corners of your mouth as close to your ears as you can, keep your teeth close together, and pronounce the word slowly, as if trying to teach a child to say a new word, or as if dislodging a pesky sesame seed from between your front teeth.


Who am I kidding--novel? Time to get back to my work of describing the "best shave ice in Kona!" and "best bar for music" in 250 words apiece, without coming across as the bitter, judgmental misanthrope that I am.