flatfoot floozie on the fly fly

every once in a while i pause and thank my forgetful and somewhat scattered nature for encouraging humility in me, and a sense of humour. this morning, for what was certainly not the first time, and most likely will not be the last, either, i found myself woken up by the garbage truck, and the subsequent bleary-eyed, half-dressed dash after it, holding a big, stinky, drippy bag of trash. this experience, and the solitary giggles enjoyed shortly afterwards upon private reflection, are surely lost on those of us who are mindful/diligent/organised/rhythmical enough to find a way to remember garbage dates -- or, at least, to write them down and then remember to look at them.

i figure that organisation is a small price to pay for ongoing subjective hilarity.

(yes, that's it: it's not that i'm allergic to mundane details, it's that i've sacrificed my attention to worldly matters at the alter of The Absurd, and her twin, The Goofy.)

it's now 7:45am on my last day in hawaii. i'm alone, after my mad garbage truck chasing jump-start to the day, packing and doing laundry before we leave for home. the boys have gone off to try to squeeze in one more flight before we leave, and
i found a lizard in the dish cupboard. it was outrageously cute and i took a ridiculous number of pictures of it (with the flash on, poor thing). it is very lovely here, but i have to say, that it hasn't tugged at my heartstrings at all. i would come back, if it was easy and made sense. it's quite agreeable and very pleasant and pretty, but is somehow lost on me. i don't know why.

anyway, time to get packing....