Yesterday, I received some tragic news about a member of my extended family. It was a sobering moment, during which I thought to myself, a post about all the fun and frivolity of my 27th birthday now seems so insignificant. But during a long drive home from our road trip — post on that coming up — I thought about how lucky I am to be living this life. So though I know there are things in life more important than birthday cake, I also know that lives are meant to be cherished. And this particular birthday reinforced just how lucky I am to have special people in my life.
I used to be the girl that sent out her own Evite — remember those? — about celebrating her birthday at some raging Chicago club. Well, gone are those days. It’s a feat to even get me into a club now. These days, I’d much rather spend time with my closest friends over a delicious meal and call it a day.
But I also had a light bulb moment when I realized: I understand celebrating special moments like a wedding or graduation, but why celebrate the day I was born? What kind of accomplishment is that? So I didn’t want to make a big deal of my birthday this year. I mean, I’m living in Hawaii, isn’t that a birthday celebration in and of itself?
Apparently, Eaman had other ideas.
Unbeknownst to me, with help from Pratt and Craig, he had been planning a surprise birthday party for me since mid-March. They hatched a plan to get me ready for an ordinary day at the beach last Saturday, but when we stopped at Pratt’s apartment for a hot second, I got my extraordinary surprise!
I knew Eaman was up to something because he had been texting incessantly as of late — and he hates, I mean, hates texting. But I figured it’d happen this weekend, just a couple days after my actual birthday. I was so caught off guard that when I saw the above “happy birthday” sign hanging in Pratt and Craig’s living room, I even remarked, “Did you guys have a birthday party here recently or something?”
Sharp, I am not.
The surprise involved mango cake (yum!), cookies, a lei, a sick new surf hat c/o Pratt and Craig and tubing out to Popoia a.k.a. Flat Island. We pumped air into nearly a dozen tubes and drove out to Kailua, where we then floated with ease paddled intensely with flip-flops in our hands to get to the limestone rock island.
Thanks to Naomi, who snapped some pictures while we were out on the water:
Eaman and me:
Doug’s a trooper and took the awkward-size pirate ship tube that I was supposed to ride:
Once we got to Flat Island, we walked around to this natural pool, where we drank beer and shivered — it was cloudy and chilly!
Once we got back to Honolulu, we BBQed at P&C’s apartment complex, which was the perfect end to such an outdoorsy day. There are few things finer in life than a nicely charred hot dog eaten in the sea-salted air. All in all though, I was so deeply touched that all these people went out of their way to plan and be a part of a fun day in my name. I’ve planned a few surprises for my friends, and I love that rush of the intrigue and sneaking around, but I also thought to myself, “All this for moi?” It was just so nice. Again, I’m a very lucky girl.
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For my actual birthday this past Thursday, I was off from work after a string of 6am shifts, so I told Eaman I just wanted to CHILL. That meant brunch at Sweet E’s Cafe…
… beach time at Kaimana…
…pizza at J.J. Dolan’s (awesome pizza can be found in Honolulu!)…
(note the “Joisey, City, NJ” sign)
…and ice cream at Bubbies. Mochi ice cream here:
and brownie a la mode here because I don’t think I’ve had a birthday in the last 7 years where I haven’t had this dessert.
The menu at Bubbies:
But perhaps the greatest gift of my birthday was that the public buses we took to get around — to Sweet’s E’s, the beach, pizza and ice cream — were on time. If you’ve used Honolulu’s public transit system, then you know how nightmarishly late the buses can be. (We once waited 50 minutes!!!!) I feel like I’ve chilled out quite a bit since traveling, but these buses bring out my New York City rage. Anger, dirty looks and lots of cursing.
And yet, we were shocked to catch one bus after another — even in the dicey nighttime hour — on time. So thank you TheBus, for making this journey into year 27 oh so smooth.
Work hours have been painfully long since I got back from New Jersey last week. Eaman has been home in Oklahoma for the past two weeks. I’ve been getting into a bad habit of eating dinner on the couch, changing the channel to classic Friends episodes, falling asleep and waking up at 2 a.m. (I admit, I am definitely a grandmother by 20-something nightlife standards, but I owe this particularly sad turn of events to long hours on my feet at the smoothie shop and the relative isolation of living up a mountain. Am I less sad to you now? Hopefully.)
What I’m trying to say is, I was very much in need of an outing. During pau hana (happy hour) and subsequent dinner at the fantastic Vietnamese restaurant Super Pho last week, my cousin Pratt suggested we take a road trip somewhere on Saturday. Details weren’t necessary; I was ready to go anywhere.
Like I said, I’m starting to feel a little isolated living on this here mountain, which calls for a 15-minute downhill walk to a bus stop and the far worse 20-minute steep ascent back up the mountain. I was getting bogged down in Honolulu and knew there’s so much more to see in Oahu. But without a car, it’s hard. What a buzzkill it is to think: “Sweet! Let’s go to Kailua Beach. The bus comes in 27 minutes and then it’ll take us approximately 1 hour and 14 minutes to get there. And let’s pray it doesn’t take forever and a half to come back by bus. Can’t wait!”
But Pratt has a car, and she and her husband, Craig, have wanted to take us somewhere outside Honolulu for a while. (Unfortunately, Eaman wasn’t here for this excursion.) So on Friday night, she emailed me to be ready by noon for an adventure and to bring my bathing suit. That was one vague proposition I could get behind!
Where did we go? Well, a lot of places. Here, a little photo diary of our trip:
Stopped for lunch at Kalapawai Market in Kailua, a somewhat ritzy seaside town that boasts one of the best beaches on Oahu (called Kailua Beach) and ate lunch – a veggie-feta sandwich in my case — at a nearby park:
The weather was grim, but I believe that sometimes, a little fog and grey is quite beautiful.
A few bites shy of finishing my sandwich, this happened:
But onward, we said!
Pit-stop at a macadamia nut shop to jack free samples, like these honey-roasted treats, and macadamia nut-flavored coffee:
Con: The tourist crowd outside the nut shop.
Pro: The scene behind the tourists.
At “the hole in the rock” along the drive to the North Shore:
Our friend Suzanne had a particular fruit stand in mind that she wanted to show us:
Rambutan:
Suzanne bought us all coconut drinks…
…and they were the best I’ve ever had. They blew the Colombia ones out of the water!
When I said we went to a lot of places, I meant it. We even made a quick stop at the Waimea Arboretum to check out the two resident peacocks:
And finally, we made it to the North Shore, known to many as the surfing mecca of the world. Much of Lost was filmed here, and as well as one of my favorite movies ever, Forgetting Sarah Marshall.
People cliff-dove; I did not. But Craig and I did get in the water. To say it was powerful is a gross understatement. I could barely stand straight as the tide pulled back out. And though I managed, let me put it this way: It’s best to wear a one-piece bathing suit with those kind of waves.
On our drive out, we stopped the car to check out some ridiculously talented surfers from afar. I would’ve taken pictures but was too busy picking my jaw up from off the floor.
And as we wound our way back home, we came full circle with dinner at Peace Cafe, a tranquil vegan spot in Honolulu. I’ve gotta say: I’m so impressed with vegan food in Hawaii. In New York, I always found it bland. But here, everything is so fresh and well-flavored. And I just loved the vibe at this place. It was like a yoga studio with really good food.
Popeye sandwich at Peace Cafe — spinach, tofu, sprouts, pesto and Italian dressing.
