The Road to Hell is Paved With Good Intentions..

... And the road to Hana is paved with bricks from Hell. Jkjkjkjk. The road to Hana isn't paved. Jkjkjkjk. The front way into Hana is paved and basically two lanes, while the "back way" is not paved, it's between .75 and 1.25 lanes wide, and a virtual death trap. A beautifully, horrifically gorgeous, death trap. Actually, according to ChaCha.com less than one person dies on the road to Hana each year. Which can only mean one thing. About one Dolphan (a combination dolphin-human) is killed on the road yearly.

So, anyway I went to Hana this weekend. Hana is about 60 miles from where I live. It takes approximately 3 hours to get there, when taking the "Road to Hana" that I keep talking about. It is in fact very beautiful, and it was in fact my second time taking the trip. The following blog post will be about my first trip. I will begin talking about that trip... now. (Meant to be read the same way one might read THIS bit, right around the 0:33-0:36 mark).

Circa my fifth day here, I accidentally went to Hana. Up until that point, my days went something like this:
6:00-wake up in my hostel room
6:30-go to church and pray that God help me find a place to live
7:00- go to Starbucks and try not to cry
8:00- go back to the hostel cry a bit and wait for it to be 10:00/look for a place to live
10:00- go to Costco and enjoy the familiarity of it, but don't buy anything
1:00- leave Costco and head to the beach and cry
3:00- call my mom and cry like an over-tired 3 year old, refusing to take a nap
5:00- back to the hostel, look again at craigslist
6:00- take some Valerian root or Excedrin PM
6:30- fall into a listless sleep

Livin' in paradise ain't easy y'all. So after five days of this I thought I'd take a nice car trip to "help myself down off the ledge" as it were. I suppose now is a good a time as any to mention that I did absolutely no research on Maui before I moved here. On the way to the airport my mom asked me what city I was flying into, and my response was “I know there’s 3 airports, and the code for this one in OGG, but it’s like Kahunli I think”. The actual name of the city if Kahului. But you see how I offered unnecessary information to help put her mind at ease? I mean, I vaguely understood that Maui is was one of the, 7ish, Hawaiian islands. Meaning, there is no land bridge connecting it to the continental United States. AND judging by road signs, I was able to read through my tears, there is a place called Hana that is 50 miles away from Kahunli… excuse me… Kahului.

After calling my mother at 3:00, as usual, I set off for Hana. This may have been my first mistake. Apparently people leave between 5 and 8 am when going to Hana. My B, I can see that now. Just to be sure I didn’t get lost, I punched “Hana” into my GPS, and got directions for “the back way” or “death road”. The following are some picture of ”the back way” to Hana, I found on Google.com (is that good as far as non-copyright infringement goes?)

The beginning of the "unauthorized road"-a place where no rental car is to go.

One of the nicer patches of concrete

Most of the signs along the way tell you to slow down, and/or, beware of the cows on the road.

If you only watch 30 second of this, let it be the 30 seconds between 5:30 and 6:00. And I suggests this after only watching from 5:34-5:37....so....

And here are somethings I was able to scream, to myself, between terror filled sobs.

"This CANNOT be the only way to Hana!!!"
"Is there even going to be a town at the end of this road?!?!?!?!"
"I'm ABOVE the clouds right now!!!"
"PLEASE DON'T LET ME DIE, LORD!!!!!!!"
"Why didn't I turn around 2 hours ago?!?!?!?!"
"There's those cows there always talking about!!!"
"Who's the patron saint of nervous drivers!!??!!!"
"I'd LOVE to scoot past you tour bus, but we're on a HALF OF A LANE road!!"
"Why don't I turn around NOW!!!!!!!!!?????"
"I wish my radio came in better, I LOVE Club Nouveaux's version of 'Lean on Me'"
"I.AM.ABOVE.THE.CLOUDS!!!!!!"
"There's a spot to turn around. Oh, there's a spot to turn around."
"THIS CANNOT BE THE ONLY ROAD INTO HANA!!!!!!!! IF IT IS, IMMA WRITE A LETTER TO MAUI!! THAT'LL TEACH 'UM!!!!!!"

Well, I eventually got to Hana. And by that time I was fairly convinced that there had to be another way out of Hana. Although I was mentally preparing myself for the possibility of having to sell my car and fly back to Kahului (Hana-one of Maui's 3 airports. Take that research and being well prepared!). Thankfully the nice 11 year old working at the gas station pointed me to the other road. He instructed me, that although it was longer and windier, it was also much safer. Especially since it was getting dark and starting to rain. "Thanks, Kid" I said, as I flung a nickle his way, for his trouble. Jkjkjkjk. I was focusing too much on NOT crying in front of him, to do anything that classy (?).

So, anyway, after all that, I rolled back into the hostel around 10:00. Vowing never to return to Hana. That was a vow I kept for nearly 6 weeks. Which is longer than Kim's marriage to Kris. OOOOOOO. I went there.

Love you all,
Kate
P.S.
Any one wanna be a guest blogger on this thing?

Kirkland Washington, USA. Where Dreams are Born

It's also where I was born. Ok, well technically I was born in the neighboring city of Redmond, but that's just cause Anne and Steve found that Group Health Cooperative best suited their overall health care needs. Y'all know I'm 425 till the day I die! The neighborhood I was raised in was AWESOME!! There's a Sandbo Family home video, in which my sister Robyn is forcing us three little girls (Me, Emily and Brittany) to give a tour of the neighborhood. She instructed us to tell a little about each house and its inhabitants, and finally to inform the viewers if said inhabitants were friends or foes. As we're walking along, I can be heard asking why we can't just talk about how we feel. My questions, of course, go unanswered.

My Neighborhood according to Google Earth. It'd be easier to see if all those gorgeous trees would die.

The best thing about growing up on my street was the amount of children there were to play with! Aside from my siblings there must have been at least 5,000 other kids in our neighborhood (ever notice how, occasionally, memories from your youth can be skewed?). This fact pretty much made up for the absence of street cred. from which I suffer, due to being born and raised in Kirkland. We would make clubhouses in people's yards (unbeknownst to them), we run through any sprinkler that happened to be going whether we had permission to or not, and if a family was busy eating dinner we'd go ahead and play in their backyard. Oh, and there was all the ABC gum you could ever hope for!

AleadyBeenChewed Gum.
I accidentally typed "chewed bum" into the Google search bar. And you do NOT wanna know the results I got. Ok, I'll tell you. Google asked me if I meant "chewed gum" and this picture showed up.

Although most of the neighborhood kids were my friends, I did have a few foes. One young man quickly springs to mind. His real name is Michael, so I'll go ahead and call him Matthew (wouldn't want to embarrass him, by calling him out for picking on a little girl). Matthew falls somewhere between me and my brother, in age. Probably closer in age to my brother. So, in his defense, the laws of nature dictate that I would be the one who bears the brunt of his cruelty (I'm just being EVER so slightly dramatic about the whole thing). I distinctly remember during street-wide games of hide-and-seek, Matthew would ALWAYS get me. I was an easy target, my stubby legs (I'm really all trunk) and pigeoned toes made running quickly and efficiently difficult for me. Inevitably, after Matthew tagged me some bigger kid would let me tag them, then that big kid would tag Matthew. This would go on until I started crying. At which point, one of my siblings would let me hit them until I bad feelings were forgotten, so I wouldn't go crying to the 'rents. It's a trick they learned from our cousin Joby. An all around healthy way of dealing with things, if you ask me.

From the above illustration, you may be able to surmise that Matthew and I had a hate-hate relationship. One day, I was minding my own business in my front yard, pretending to clip and sort items in a plastics factory (the television show Roseanne had just recently debuted), when along came Matthew. I can't remember EXACTLY what he did, but I do remember it was the greatest injustice of my life. I was so frustrated! I yelled at him to get off my property (he must have been on my property at the time), and when he wouldn't I screamed "YOU BENCH!!!"... only I didn't say bench. I said one of THE words, the queen of dirty words. The B-I-DASH-DASH-DASH word. I knew it was a mean word, that's why I said it. But I certainly didn't want any grown-up to know I'd said it. It was right then that I heard those two words that'll turn your blood to ice while causing you to evacuate your bowels and bladder... "I'm. Telling". I was scared, but you see Matthew was in an awkward situation. He couldn't tell either of our parents, because then he'd have to admit he was tormenting me. His only option was to tell the resident drug addict. And that's just what he did.

Our friendly neighborhood crackhead, was/is named Shelly, and lived with her parents at the end of the cul-de-sac. You can read a little bit more about her here. As I mention in that post, drug addicts were so much more predictable in the days of my youth, and Shelly was seen more as an oddity than someone to fear. She was a bit of a liability however, because people were constantly robbing her. Probably because of the drugs, but I'm not one to assume things. Anyway, after a while she got a life-sized cardboard cut out of Mel Gibson, that she would prop in front of the door, when she was out. That way, anyone looking to rob the joint would look in the window and think that Martin Riggs was going to shoot them.



Matthew picked up his bike and started toward Shelly's house. I can still hear his spokey-dokes announcing his movement, and signalling my demise.



After a quick pow-wow, Shelly called me over. I mentally prepared myself for what might be in store. I decided that if things got too intense, I would sucker punch everyone and run away to one of the many clubhouses. From there I'd get a job, and just start over. Sure I'd miss my family, but what else could I do?!?!? I was 6, and the 9 year old neighbor boy just told on me to the cracked out neighbor!!!!!!! Shelly looked in my general direction, with glassy blood-shot eyes. She said, and I'll never forget this, "Matthew's not a 'bench'. THIS is a 'bench'" (only she didn't say bench either) at that she pointed to one of the countless dogs that always seemed to be wandering around her yard. "Okay" I said. And that was it! Shelly cracked open a Natty Ice and the whole thing was over! Haha! Take that Michael, if that IS your real name (if you'll remember, it is in fact his real name).

I want to end this post by saying something along the lines of "Justice, like a crackhead, is blind". However, I would like for it to make sense, and be very very funny. Ah, well y'all have the ingredients and know my intentions. Go ahead and think up a saucy end for this post!

Regards,
Kate

You Say You Want Pictures?

Here's a picture I call "Side By Side On My Piano Keyboard". Name THAT tune, and you'll know why it's so called... And no using Google, or Alta Vista or anything!!!



As you can deduce by my tuh-too, this is a pic of my palm and the back of my hand. And I'm not just making excuses, but this computer-cam picture doesn't even do it full justice. I'm getting very tan here! But don't you worry your pretty little brains, I still wear 45 on the body and 50 on the face... when I remember...
XOXOXO
K.L.L.S

And the Winner is....

SARAH!!!!

By becoming a follower, Sarah was entered in the drawing, and WON!!! And what did she win, you may want to know... ONE 16 oz. BAG OF MAUI MADE POI!!!!



Here you can see I've kind of draped it over a railing, so you can see the consistency. It's kind of fantastic Sarah won, because she has a food blog (foodyearsresolution.wordpress.com)!!!! I can't wait to see what she does with this poi!

For those of you who don't know, poi is a disgusting combination of taro and water . I once told a Hawaiian that I didn't like poi, and she told me I wasn't eating it right. I was all like 'excuse me, I've been eating since I was darn near 6 months old! Don't tell me how to eat!'. Turns out she just meant, poi isn't meant to be eaten plain. It's generally served atop fish or steak. Or mixed with sugar and eaten like a pudding. A sticky, sour, pudding. Anyway, Sarah and her husband like all kinds of weird things, so I've no doubt they enjoy the poi (that rhymes).

Thank you, thank you, thank you, to all of you who became followers and/or left comments. It did wonders for my self-esteem, and gave me a good many things to consider as I move forward with this blog. However, most of the GREAT (not meant to be read sarcastically) suggestions do sound a lot like work. I was really hoping someone would say 'Kate, my wealthy eccentric uncle has a mind reading device, and he wants to mind-read and record your life stories, and give you $10,000 a post. You never have to work again!!" or even just "Kate, I'm David Remnick and I want to pay you $10,000 a post. You never have to work again!!" or maybe even "Kate, here's a winning lottery ticket. You never have to work again!!". Most of the best case scenarios I worked out in my head ended with "you never have to work again", but this is really good too!!!!!1

I think I'll do a sweepstakes every month or so, cause this was really fun for me, and honestly I want each and every one of you to be able to win!!! I will warn you, I have several ideas for giveaway items, and they kind of weird, so you might not like them. But they WILL be Hawaiian for as long as I live here! Also, is that the proper use of the word sweepstake?

God is Love,
Rev. Run
jkjkjkjkjk, it's me Kate

Great Idea...

...Anna! Anna left me a comment, suggesting how I might get more traffic to this baby. Which is wonderful, because that's what the post was all about. So, Anna (if that's her name. Should I change names to protect people. Nah, but I should DEFINITELY stop stealing pictures off Google) suggested I give stuff away. Give HAWAIIAN stuff away. How great is that?!?! People love free stuff!!!

So, here's what we're gonna do. If you want this Hawaiian thing (it's a REALLY cool Hawaiian thing, I'm looking at it now. Now I'm holding it. Jamie and Judi if you want to tell your dad about it, so he can get in on it, feel free) leave me a comment, telling me your favorite post of mine and why. Or, give me ways to improve and excel, in blogging or life. No, just blogging. OH, OH and maybe you have to follow my blog too. But maybe not. Hard to say. I'll just change the rules as I go. Then on Monday, I guess, I'll randomly pick one using an online number,or letter, generator. Or I'll pick my favorite one, I'll keep you posted!

Do I think this will make me the next William Shakespeare? Or even the next William Shakespeare of blogging? No, probably not, but I think I might get some compliments/constructive criticism out of it, and one of you might get a coconut! Might, who knows, maybe that's not even the giveaway item. So, friends let's take a chance, just like Celine Dion said!

Time to Step it Up.. Gotta Step it Up?... Gotta Step it Up part 2?

This morning, after ridding my kitchen of maggots (no explanation necessary, I don't think), I found I was in need of some soothing. So, I set about copying and pasting myself into people's Facebook photos.

Example One:Seamless. Yes, I think so too.

Example Two:

What I've done here is pasted my face on to the body of an adorable little baby, being held by a friend of mine. We'll call this friend Jess. We'll call her that because that's her name. I gave Jess this picture as birthday present (oh, yeah Jess. That was you birthday present). I was a little worried that my coloring ruined the whole picture, but Jess has nothing but kind words. She mentioned that my clone was about 8 months old, so this picture wasn't too far off (me and her "joke" about cloning one another). She also said something that really struck a chord with me. She said, and I quote:

" i insist you not work any more than you absolutely need to while in hawaii so you have the time necessary to create masterpieces like this and to blog about the happenings there."

Well, I don't want to work more than I have to either. I mean, I don't want to not work to the point where I'm squandering my God-given talents, because that's how a body gets struck by lightning. Or maybe, just maybe, this blog could become my money-maker. Not completely unlike Liberace's fingers, palms and, by association, his forearms! This reminds me of a conversation I had with a friend of mine, named... Tori Mueller. Not her real name. I'm serious. Check her birth certificate. Anyway, I asked her what she thought I would have to do to be a successful blogger. She suggested that I blog every couple months, and just let word-of-mouth take over.

That brings us to today, ladies and gentlemen. I have CLEARLY done my part. And some of you have gone above and beyond, and I thank you so much (you know who you are, Anna). However, I am open to suggestions as to how to make this blog something that more than just my mom, my 5 followers, Tori and Martha read. And don't say join Twitter, cause I've already joined Twitter (tweets under: katesandbo). But maybe I could constantly tweet Alec Mapa, until he takes notice. You guys remember Alec Mapa.
Looks like he may, or may not have won 1-2 Emmys.

What do y'all think? Is that a good idea? I am open to other suggestions. Those two people in Russia who occasionally look as my blog, I'd be very interested to hear what you have to say. Ready.... GO!!!

I REALLY Don't Want This to Become the Kind of Blog...

... where I complain about my living situation. So, I promise after today to slow, such posts, way down, and get back to better things. Such as my inability to interact with others in a normal way. HOWEVER, I just wanted y'all to know there may be a flaw in my plan to help my roommates grow up. You see, eventually all the dishes are going to be neatly stacked in the sink, I just know it! Because they'll keep using the dishes and not washing them. I suppose I'll just have to assemble myself a chow kit, and squirrel it away in my room. I hope to create one, not too different from this one:

Define Passive Aggressive

I think if you were to look up passive aggressive on Urban Dictionary, it might read "The way in which K.L Sandbo solves all of life's problems". It MIGHT read that, I don't know, I didn't check before starting to write this. Anyoo, I'm incredibly uncomfortable with confrontation, so if something ticks me off I generally pretend not to be bothered, then run crying to any one and every one who will listen (enter y'all). However, I think I may be growing up, and I have the I.Cs (so called, so that Anna can read this post out loud with her baby boy in the room. I mean, who wants their baby's first word to be I-D-I-O-T. Am I right Anna?!?!) to thank! You see, I don't think I'm being passive aggressive to them, I think I'm teaching them to be grown ups.

Take the dishes for example:
I refuse to do the I.Cs dishes. And apparently they feel the very same way. So, to teach them that in order to be a grown up they need to do their own dishes, I neatly stack them on one side of the sink. I also hand wash them, cause well, you can't expect perfection on the first go round, and I have to eat off the stuff too!!! But the kids don't know that, to them it just looks like a pile of their dirty dishes waiting to get put in the dishwasher. Thankfully they usually heat up some Dino Nuggets on a paper plate for breakfast, lunch and dinner, so this actually like 2 weeks of dishes! Or to put it another way, these dishes have been piled in the sink for 2 weeks. But that is SUCH a glass-half-empty way of looking at things.

So see, that's not passive aggressive is it? No, I should say not. Especially since I don't really feel negatively about the process, it's just how things are done here in Kihei... apparently.

Hugs and Kisses,
Kate

P.S.
Here is what UrbanDictionary.com has to say about passive aggression:
passive aggressive
A defense mechanism that allows people who aren't comfortable being openly aggressive
get what they want under the guise of still trying to please others.

I guess I expected something funnier and more snarky from U.D. This seems kind of Webstery, to me.

I know this girl...

Let's call her, oh I don't know, Rachel. We're about the same amount of awkward. Actually, she might be a little less awkward than me. She's pretty good at making small talk with strangers. I usually just sit quietly, over-blinking, until someone asks if anyone's ever heard of the Thanksgiving squirrel, or ever suffered a Christmas tree fire.

Anyway, I met "Rachel" while working at summer camp. I have two vivid memories of her from that summer. One, was when she was impersonating a "runner" (aka a camper, who's had ENOUGH of this camp, and is going home to play video games). It was the middle of the night, but her headlamp accentuated the fact that the camper would be looking back every few seconds to ensure you were still following them. The other memory is of her, is when she stormed through the staff lounge, crying. Now, readers (Mom... maybe Jess?) please don't think she's a rotten little cry baby just because of this. Creating magical, life-long memories in the woods for hundreds of children, day after day, can be VERY stressful. I myself, spent countless hours sobbing in bathroom stalls, my first summer working. The kids were all like "Kate, come on, we're gonna be late for swimming" and "Oh, Kate I know you're feeling a little tense. How about we just go back to the cabin so you can take a nap." and "Kate, here's a cell phone. Feel free to call your mom, I think she could be very helpful to you right now". Kids can be surprisingly understanding, when the "adult" in charge has a break down.

Rachel on the right as Dorthy Zbornak, me on the left as Rose Nylund. I think the one in the middle should actually read, Sophia Petrillo. My apologies.

Rachel now lives in New York, and I think our cross-continental text messages are sometimes sorta hilarious, and I want to share them with y'all. Also, I would like to state for the record that I had this idea LONG before that blog Texts from Bennett, or whatever.

Ok, here ya go:
Rachel: How is student teaching going? (pardon the facebook stalking)
Me: I love it! The stalking and the student teaching! I'm just in charge of early work right now, but the other day there was a sub and I rocked a math lesson on the fly!
Me: How are things with the 3 year old who likes your booty? That's a bit of a dated fb reference
Rachel: Ha! She's fine. She's being a little punk right now. Into everything, lyring and testing everything. But it keeps it interesting.
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! I love/hate it when kids lie.... badly
Rachel: Have you dance for them yet? (*obviously, she was done talking about the lying 3 year old, and wanted to know if I had danced for my students... like you do)
Rachel: Badly?
Me: No, I haven't danced for them. But I stole a story from Bussy about an encounter with a cougar, to impress them. Yeah, I like it when kids lie poorly
Rachel: She tells the dumbest lies. Example: Did you sing frere Jacques in school today. -no I don't know that song.
Me: Yeah, one time my niece told me she hit her brother, because he kicked Barrack Obama.


A quicky text, I never responded to:
Rachel: Can I post that video of you rapping on fb? It's ok if you say no.

HERE'S THE EVIDENCE THAT I THOUGHT TO DO THIS BEFORE THAT BENNETT BLOG...KINDA:
Me: I just re-read our all our texts, we're pretty funny.
Rachel: Oh fun!! You should make a book of your texts. Or just some good texts in general. You could call it "My life in texts: The Kate Sandbo Story" or something.
Me: That's a great! Idea! (*see what I did there. For emphasis)
Rachel: It's all yours! You might need to tweak the title.
That was on Sept. 18th, y'all!!!!

Rachel: I'm trying to teach this kid to walk. She's being lazy.

Me: Merry Christmas! Lemme know how the sandwich thing goes!! (*she went to a gift exchange where all participants were to make something that was then to be given away "white elephant/yankee swap" style... Rachel made a sandwich.)
Rachel: God. Everyone else made really cool stuff. DARNIT!!!! (*censored)
Me: But did they think it was funny?
Rachel: It got a few laughs from people who made heartfelt baked goods.
Me: I'm skyping with the fam and there's like a minute delay.
Rachel: Haha! You should slip in extra weird words and see if they notice! Like "squeeze bottle"
Me: I just had to call them cause they all moved into a different room and forgot about me
Rachel: I HATE when that happens. Ok, now make them view your screen and make it a fireplace?!?!?!?
Me: How?!?!?!?!
Rachel: Ok. One of the icons on the bottom is "share screen view" and it makes them see yours. Then just navigate youtube and get a fire.
Me: I'm trying it!
Rachel: Good Luck!
Me: Hahaha! I'm doing it!
Rachel: Tell me what they say!
Me: As soon as they notice I will!
25 or so minutes later
Me: My sister said 'look kate turned into a fireplace', then Winnie said 'what's that?' my sister 'it's a fireplace. you hear Kate giggling?'
Rachel: Ha! yay! Good job Kate!!
Me: Thanks
Rachel: Were you giggling?

Me: I don't think I ever told you just how cool that lightning bug video you made is! Don't think I didn't notice how cool it was at the end when the bug lit up as a soft tone sounded.
Rachel: Thanks. My first foray into iMovie, and also I'm using it as my application to film school. Sooooo.
Me: Imma make a blog post of our text..... and send it to my editor.....so.....
Rachel: You have an editor!?!?!?!?!
Me: No (*but A. Smith, once promised to edit some of my posts for me. Just say-ing!). Are you applying to film school!?!?!?!?!?! I thought this was just light-hearted fun!!!!
Rachel: It was lighthearted fun. I thought maybe you had a real editor. Texts can be hard to interpret sometimes.

That they can Rachel, that they can.

Those are shells. Not her real teeth.

You know, I have a lot of funny/awkward friends, so many MANY texts from my phone could be fuel for a good blog post. Thank you, ALL of you for reading this. And if this is one of those "funnier/only funny to those involved". Please don't tell me. Because, well, I am involved, so it is funny to me. Oh goodness, I don't want to sound ungrateful. I really do appreciate y'all's blog traffic!!! And I'm formulating a Hawaiian post that will, hopefully, be more inclusively funny.

Love to each and everyone of you!!!!!
Kate


*Not actually included in original text.