catheroominations

Today we met with a travel agent. She is a specialist in Hawaii vacations. Or not.

Matte and I have some ideas on where we want to go in Hawaii and one place is Hana. We found an awesome place to stay that was ranked the #2 spa in all of Hawaii by some magazine that ranks that sort of thing.

The problem with Hana (not a problem for us, really, we kind of like that “problem”) is that it’s basically in the middle of nowhere, very secluded. To get there by car, you travel the Hana Highway, which is beautiful and offers gorgeous scenery. We definitely want to cruise along that road, but neither of us is too excited about sitting in a car for three hours right after we get off the plane, so we figure we’ll stay in Kaanapali for the first night, and then hit the road to Hana the next morning. Because there’s not much to do in Hana, we want to go somewhere else after just a couple of days, either spend more time on the other side of Maui, or head off to the Big Island. But then again, it’s a three-hour drive back to the Kahului airport.

I suggested to the travel agent that we depart from the Hana airport when we’re ready island hop, rather than trek all the way back to the main airport on the other side of Maui. I mean, it’s right there. We can even return our Kahului airport-rented car there, in Hana.

The agent said, “There isn’t an airport in Hana.”

Uhm…yes. Yes, there is. And you can take inter-island flights for as low as $30 each way even.

But the Hawaii specialist had never heard of an airport in Hana.

Uh-oh.

Also? When she recommended a place for us to stay on the first night in Maui, she put us at a hotel that caters to families, where Kids Stay Free!

Uhm…what about the part where I said we want more seclusion, and to try and avoid the family-oriented places?

Guess she missed that part.

So yeah. I’m thinking we can book this honeymoon on our own, or go with a second recommendation I received. This is for a great travel agent that does actually specialize in Hawaii vacations, and mainly luxury Hawaiian vacations. My friend Lisa used them for her first anniversary and had a spectacular time, complete with room upgrades and welcome champagne.

So tell me: do you usually use an agent to book big important trips like this? Or do you do all the research and planning on your own? Do I want to take on additional planning when I’m already planning a wedding? I know I don’t want an agent I have to second-guess.

Suggestions and recommendations are welcome, both for travel planning in general and Hawaii specifically (Maui and the Big Island on this trip). Tell me what we shouldn’t miss.

My engagement ring is back on my finger. For two weeks, it was not. I left it in Wisconsin. No, I’m not a forgetful idiot, I left it there on purpose so that a jeweler there could design a wedding band to go with it. But last week, we got it back, along with a wax version of a possible band design.

While my finger was naked, I was more focused in general, not having the shiny thing to distract me. But I missed the constant reminder of what it symbolizes because when I look at it, the “oooh! sparkly!” reaction is instantly replaced by a sense of calm.

keep reading Back where it belongs

When we picked up Jasper and Daphne from the cat hospital where they stayed while we were on our Disney World vacation (WHERE WE GOT ENGAGED) the vet told us that Little Daph had lost some weight and caught a cold during her stay. I had heard that catching a cold during boarding was common, so I wasn’t too concerned. Plus, I was so happy to see my kitties, I was focusing on getting them home where they’d be more comfortable. I only had a couple of hours to visit with them and get my share of headbutts and purrs before I flew off to Calgary for work.

But when I saw Daphne in the carrier, she didn’t look like herself. At all. Her eyes were squinty, her mouth was slightly open, she was sneezing, and she looked miserable. When I got her home, she didn’t fight me when I held her (and she HATES being held). Her body was scrawny. I gave her her 2 antibiotics so Matte could see how to give them to her while I was gone. I didn’t want to be away from home so soon after returning, but I had to make this trip for work, so I left Daph and her brother Jasper in my fiance’s tender loving care.

Tonight when I talked to Matte, he said Daphne was making some strange noises. He couldn’t really describe them, and I couldn’t hear them through the phone. He mentioned that he didn’t think she’d been eating and I was concerned because she needs to eat in order to have the strength to get over this cold or whatever it is (she’s all skinny now). I suggested he take her in to the emergency vet and get her on an IV or something. I know the after-hours vet is expensive, but money is not an object when it comes to these things.

Daph is now spending the night in isolation at the emergency pet hospital because she is contagious. It looks like she has a respiratory infection, and possibly pneumonia, although the vet couldn’t hear anything in her lungs tonight. She’s getting an IV and more antibiotics and they’re running a blood panel to see if there’s any liver damage. Apparently this can be caused when cats have gone without eating for just a few days and since we haven’t been around her lately, we don’t know if she ate while we were gone. Tomorrow morning, Matte will pick her up (kitty catheter and all) and take her to the regular-hours cat hospital (where we take Jasper) and she’ll stay there for a few days. They’ll do chest x-rays to hopefully rule out pneumonia, and continue administering her IV and meds.

All the time we were on vacation, I worried about how Jasper would handle being boarded. With his kidney tumor and weight loss, I thought this might be too stressful on him, and I even thought the worst at one point. (I’m a worrywart by nature, could you tell?) I didn’t worry about Daphne much because as long as she had my hoodie to snuggle into, and her brother in the same cage as her, she’d be fine.

But now she’s sick, and I know there is nothing I can do for her. Even if I was at home, there’d still be nothing I could do. She’s getting the best care she can, but I still feel helpless.

And I’m homesick for my fiance. If he was just my boyfriend, that’d be one thing, but now he’s my fiance and I miss him more. (And I really like saying fiance but I like to pronounce it so that it rhymes with finance.)

So, if you have kitties, or doggies, or any kind of furball, give them some extra love tonight on my behalf, eh? And if you have a fiance, or partner/significant other/boyfriend/girlfriend/wife/husband/poolboy, give them an extra sumpthin’-sumpthin’ for those of us who are missing ours.

Is Walt Disney World’s Magic Kingdom the happiest place on earth? Matte and I sure think so!

Those of you who read Four Feet More, my friend Jenni’s blog, may know that she and her family are also here at Disney World. I was so happy to learn they’d be here at the same time as we are because I told Jenni long ago that I wanted to witness Vika and Eamon’s first trip to Disneyland. But Disney World is even better! We had plans to meet up with them near Cinderella’s castle around 5 p.m. Since both Matte and Jenni’s husband Jeff are photogs, the plan was to have a little photo shoot at the Rose Garden, with the famous princess’ humble abode as our backdrop. Jeff would take shots of Matte and me, and Matte would take shots of Jenni, Jeff, Vika, and Eamon.

keep reading YES!

Once upon a time, I had a really good first date. As with most first dates, I was nervous as I anticipated his arrival. Well, not nervous as much as anxious. For some reason though, this one was different. As soon as he picked me up, the anxiety subsided. The unfamiliarity was still there, but it was so easy to be around this guy. Before he picked me up, I remembered that he was cute, but I kept wanting to look over as he drove, to make sure I was right in my initial impression. I didn’t need to stare too long and come across as some freaky gawking girl. I was right. He was cute.

He took me to Palo Alto for dinner at a cute little Italian place, the kind of place where the tables are placed close together. Thankfully we were practically the only ones there, so we didn’t have the eyes of other diners upon us, hanging on our every first-date word. “Do you have any siblings?” “Where did you go to school?” “What kinds of things do you like to do?” and other fascinating questions that make up the conversation. Honestly, I don’t remember what we talked about. All I remember was he was easy to talk to. And he held the door open for me. And he liked good wine and chewed with his mouth closed. These are all plusses in my book.

After dinner, we walked over to the Stanford Theatre to see a classic starring Katharine Hepburn, Jimmy Stewart, and Cary Grant. Before the show, I excused myself to visit the ladies room and have some interior dialogue on how I felt the dinner went. And I probably freshened my lipgloss or something girlie like that. He was waiting for me outside the entrance to the plush theatre. As I started to follow behind him to find seats, he stopped, and maybe backed up a bit. He said he wanted to walk side-by-side. I thought that was cute, and for a split second thought something about walking side-by-side down a different aisle someday. Then I mentally told myself “Shut up! It’s a first date for Pete’s sake!”

Part of the Stanford Theatre’s charm is the pipe organ onstage, offering pre-show entertainment that you just don’t get at the large cineplexes. The organist was playing Someone to Watch Over Me when we walked in. I remember this.

The movie was very sweet, as only classics like that can be, and I decided then and there to pay more attention to AMC and to add Cary Grant to my TiVo wishlist.

I don’t recall the conversation on the ride home, but I knew I wanted to see him again, and soon. I mentioned something to that effect, without sounding like some sort of desperate loser, and I gave him a hug good-bye. Yes, I sound like a prude, but this night was just too sweet to ruin it with a botched attempt at a first kiss. Besides, Mom always taught me to play hard-to-get.

That date was one year ago. And tonight I’m going back. Same restaurant. Same movie theatre. Same cute guy.

I love this guy.

When he went out, it looked somewhat like this. Boxes, clutter, general state of angst-inducing unsettledness:

When he came home, it looked like this. A place for everything and everything in its place:

And I didn’t just hide everything in the garage. I actually PUT IT AWAY. When he walked in, the only light was the one emitting from the TV. As he flipped the switch to see the big reveal, he said “do we live here?”