I promise you, this isn't going to turn into a blog about the weather. Really. It isn't. But if you're local and you've watched the news, or watched a commercial about the news, or been out in public where people talk, the big news is that it's supposed to snow here. I'm sure the news people have come up with some name for this supposed snowstorm. February Snow? February Storm? February Stormy Snowy Something? All I know is that according to the tv people, it's News with a capital "N."
And then there's snow.
And believe you me, the snow is getting way more airtime than Libya (which is why I don't watch the news very often).
Most of the time, I just rely on my weather app on my Droid for temperature and a general idea of what the skies might bring me in the next five days. I've plugged a few cities into my weather app, so whenever I'm feeling curious I can see what the weather is like in, say, Glasgow.
I need to know what my sister is experiencing.
Or Providence, Rhode Island. To see if the sun is shining for my brother-in-law and his family.
Or Boise. For my Uncle Bud and Aunt Janet.
Or Orlando, Florida, just in case I decide to hop on a plane and visit Walt Disney World.
Or Honolulu, Hawaii. Because at any given moment, that's where I'd rather be.
I'm often checking the weather in Honolulu. It's usually around 80 degrees. Even at 3 am. Somehow this brings me joy.
Last year, my friend Megan and I were talking about Hawaii. How much we love it, and how much fun it would be to go there together sometime. I have family who graciously allow family to stay at their house on the big island, so it's just a matter of airfare and car. The talking between Megan and I was wishful dreaming because last year Jason didn't have a job, and I was pregnant and miserable, and life in general wasn't flexible enough to plan for a trip to Hawaii. So our familes went to Reno, Nevada, instead and had an awesome time.
Someday, we said. Someday we'll go to Hawaii together.
A few weeks ago, Megan and I were talking again about Hawaii.
"We really should go," I said.
"We really should," she said.
"I think we should," I said.
"I think we should too," she said.
And we sighed and blissfully ignored the rain pouring down outside. Someday, we said.
Later, I happened to look at airfare to Kona. Three hundred bucks. I started getting dizzy with excitement. A few giddy Facebook messages to Megan, a conversation with Jason, and some phone calls later and voila: Megan and I were going to Hawaii.
We're going for five days, and our loving and amazing husbands are staying home with the kids (except Addie, who will get to go on her first airplane ride). Our primary objective is to hang out on the beach and relax.
When I see a forecast that says it'll be 20 degree this weekend, I think of Hawaii.
When I think of having a bowl of ice cream at night, I think of Hawaii (and the swimsuit I will be wearing).
When I think of the upcoming soccer season that will have Jason gone many nights a week, I think of Hawaii.
Megan and I got lucky: our someday is coming in June.