Three of the four of us changed around our sleeping arrangements, yesterday — my brother’s still in the master bedroom but it became obvious the we could optimize everyone else’s experience a little more by reconfiguring.  So Nick and I slept in what was previously the spare room, last night, which happens to be on the side of the house closest to the roosters (although they are everywhere around us).  This morning was a real crow off.  We laid in bed, in the dark, listening to them.  They sound like they might be the stupidest animal god ever made — I say this lovingly.  They sound like someone imitating how they sound.  “Bro, bro — this is straight up how you sound, look: UR-ur-UR-ur-URRRRRGH!”  Nick fantasizes about thunking them further away from the house with a harmless whiffle ball bat, mid-crow, mostly because of how that would sound.  Ur-ur-UR-ur-[thwop].

We’re not annoyed by them per se.  It’s more like a case of external hiccups.  You know, with the hiccups, you just can’t get over how silly this thing is, that is happening to you.  We were going about our business in the early am kitchen, making our coffees etc. — Nick’s been doing some spiritual reading first thing, filling the world with a little more consciousness, while I fill the world with a little more awareness of exactly what these roosters are like.  Important, both things.  And our kitchen is incredible, by the way, separated from the rest of the central area only by an L-shaped bar, but otherwise simply occupying one large corner of the big, nice, open area.  This whole area used to be a sugar cane plantation, and our house was at one time the community or worker HQ, something along those lines.  Anyway, thanks to the arrival and unpacking of the U-Box, which was bad enough, but then the further mess we created yesterday by switching all the rooms around, the kitchen represents a neat corner in an otherwise chaotic scene.  Oh, and Happy Thanksgiving, by the way.  As soon as Nick and I are done with our early am meditations, we’ll get to work on the mess.

Anyway, so we were just trying to live our lives, in the kitchen, and the surround-sound effect of these roosters was almost like one of those military hearing tests, you know?  Where sounds come into both headphones alternately, sometimes very faint, sometimes in the foreground, sometimes in the middle.  And we can mostly just continue talking about whatever we’re talking about — Amy Coney Barrett was the decisive vote, for instance, 5 to 4 preventing Cuomo from capping attendance on Catholic churches and synagogues that sued him during the lockdown.  Justice Roberts joined the Liberals in dissent; Justice Roberts’ name is on the Epstein flight logs, too.  A great test run of the Supreme Court.

But you know, it’s impossible to maintain any sense of gravity for long, when you have the hiccups, and it’s even harder with these roosters.  They have signature crows — some are reasonably relaxed, and some are like, UR-ur-UR-ur-URRRRGGGHHHAAAGHHHHRRR!!  It sounds like the lil guy’s gonna crow itself into orbit, smh, or just like spontaneously combust.  It’s so much!

I don’t know what I would be blogging about, this am, if the roosters weren’t so mesmerizing.

I do want to mention, this climate is already improving my skin and hair, most noticeably with my complexion.  Hawaii, I mean — for any new readers, I came from basically Arizona to definitely Hawaii, on Nov. 1.  I’d love, but hate, to see a ten year time lapse of what I’d look like if I stayed in the Southwest, in a decade, vs what I’ll look like here.  I’ll be back on the mainland obviously for fire season stuff, who knows.  But I think getting some land here on the Big Island is going to be a smart, smart move.  This place is much less “discovered” than the rest of Hawaii, it seems, or from what I hear anyway — more rural, not many tourists.  There is a place on the west coast above Kona named Waikiloa that everyone here calls White-kiloa, because that’s where the white people move to.  Nick and I stopped in the other day on our way down to Kona.  A big outdoor shopping Mecca, just like you’d see in Scottsdale.  I’ve gotten to the point, driving around here, that I can read out loud to Nick.  At first, it was too much beauty to miss by even blinking, let along looking down at something else.  It still is.  But, I also like to read out loud sometimes, so compromises have to be made.  I’m so happy every time I remember I live here, and this is not a vacation where I have to run around and soak up as much as I can in a limited time.  I can absorb this over months and years.

I hope we can buy some land, and then not really install roosters on it?  Or, roosters and chickens, but further away.  They are everywhere, here.  Even when we go to town, there are chickens just hanging out underneath people’s vehicles, in the parking lot.

A guy at Nick’s AA meeting gave him some Ulu fruits.  They look like the dragon eggs Danaerys carried into the funeral pyre, which hatched in the flames and became her dragons.  Yesterday I cut one open, and trimmed away the seed and rind.  It was pale yellow, somewhat shreddy-firm like jackfruit, but very starchy.  I tried to eat it and it wasn’t good at all.  Then Nick’s friend said it should be fried, like a plantain.  So I fried it up with salt and pepper, and squeezed lime juice on top, and it was simply fantastic!  Looking forward to more dragon eggs.

The high rep, every-lift-every-day program is going well — it was easier yesterday.  We’ll have our third in a row today, take Friday off, and then resume the 3-day cycle on Saturday.  Nick thinks this programming might do some pretty dramatically positive things with our bodies, but only because we achieved enough of a base of strength before, with the high-weight/low-rep approach, to have something to work with.  We’ll increase the weight (on everything) by like a pound each 3 day cycle. It’s a really fun experiment.

Nick is the person I obviously funnel friends toward, who are interested in lifting.  But I’m finding this trend more and more, where — how do I put this.  Women I know are frustrated about x y z, as they age or just with their bodies generally, or whatever, and I’m like, Oh, I know how to fix that!  Or, I know how to get into a paradigm where time is working for you and not against you, in a sense?  I mean, it’s basically all three things: plant-based diet, barbell lifting, and this amazing cosmetic surgeon in Cancun who can do things like remove saggy skin around your eyes or whatever — the things that you can’t fix with diet or exercise.  And as we age, there are those things.  I try to go see that guy once a year, in an attempt to stay ahead of it, rather than getting behind the 8 ball.

So I just love using myself as a guinea pig to figure things out, because I’m highly motivated to look and feel my best, obviously, and then whenever I encounter women who are feeling the same way but maybe stuck in a paradigm that I don’t think is serving them as well as another could, I just want to zap them with the holy trinity: plant-based, barbell, Cancun cosmetic surgeon.  Like, here.  We all have a lot of shit to figure out in our lives, and certainly there are things I’m remedial in, but nobody has to dread age, or weight, or body stuff generally.  And I’m on the side of the fence where it’s like: I respect that you are comfortable with your hair turning gray, and many women look gorgeous with their silver.  And I respect women who embrace the signs of gravity and childbirth and x y z.  People have different priorities.

For me, though, if it can be fixed, it’s gonna get fixed.  Not so I can love myself or “keep my man” or whatever; I’ve been this way since I was a little kid.  If I can figure out how to look good, I’m not gonna willingly look bad.  And I think a lot of women feel the same way I do, but I’ve been willing to experiment a little more radically.  I think what I need to do is write a blog that I can then share, whenever this comes up.

I think I’ve wanted to for a while — the Flagstaff thought climate, which affected me for so long and sometimes continues to affect me, is so oppressive in my experience.  It’s like, how dare you look good on purpose — the patriarchy is winning!  My god.  I got so much shade for even just wearing nice clothes there.  So, the thought of writing a really honest blog about my aging-lady beauty discoveries has been kind of intimidating, just because my mental “community” is theoretically judging me every moment of every day.

But here in Hawaii, in my HOUSE that I LIVE IN, not just a vacation, and new friends and plans and resonances kicking in, I’m feeling more and more freed from that.  And one thing that’s emerging, oddly, is how much I love helping women see past their frustrations and limitations, whatever it is they don’t like when they look in the mirror, and see it as an opportunity to get into a new paradigm.

So yes, I think a blog dedicated to that is a good next step.  A blog dedicated to anything would be good — I can’t help but create these rambling, enjoyable messes, sometimes!  That’s okay too.

Well, probably about time to wrap this up and get this house more put together, so we can enjoy our space instead of just coping with it.  Good vibes, everyone.