So, here I sit, eating donuts (fat, ding!) at Krispy Kreme (chain franchise, ding!) in Maui on vacation (misuse of time, ding!) going online (misuse of vacation, ding!) to play World of Warcraft (not sure how to categorize, ding!) and then reading a bit of Noonday Demon (total downer, ding!). I think I’ve fulfilled my quota of geek evil today. I should do some work as well, that’d be another ding at least. According to my bf’s sister, this is the only Krispy Kreme on the entire Hawaiian archipelago. Since it’s conveniently located next to the airport, islanders will fly in just for their sugar fix and then jet home. Again, I must say to the bf, “You fucked up again, wrong business!” I know this concept is a little flawed considering that 60% of the workforce here are clinically obese. The Chocolate Flings are pure sin, though.

More notes from Paradise later…

No, it wasn’t a depressive bout. Just trying to get work caught up. And yes, I have to resort to affirmations, but here goes: Yeh me! Caught up on all my billing! Let the money flow! It is insane how much pleasure I derive by having a desktop screenshot of my online character Vorthus dancing under a byline of “You are the Billing Queen!”. If those are the tricks that I rely on to get me through the drudgery, so be it.

Despite my best efforts and a modest portion of sturm and drang, we made it. On the plane. Both of us did our arias on how we weren’t going to go, but I am going to totally jinx the vacation and state that we might actually enjoy it. Some work crises imminently threatened our plans but the help took care of things. I know, I know, it’s almost queer. As a red-blooded depressive I usually anticipate the violin strings of impending doom, such is the soundtrack of my life, but everyone keeps assuring me that I can and will — if I choose — have a nice time in Hawaii. We’ll see. It is also fashionable to be skeptical.

I’m not a fan of aerial travel, but my iPod Mr. Mistoffelees has been extremely helpful. Caught up on six episodes of Ugly Betty. I adore the show, the entire cast, the writing, everything! Giggling in flight, I’m sure, is gauche, but the show is just so well done. Mr. M has also behooved my Ms. Amos addiction. I finally downloaded Sleeps With Butterflies (very appropriate considering the flight references) and have been happily looping for days. I literally was lulled to sleep by the song a bit ago. Still, four hours logged to Seattle and another six? seven to Maui. Ugh.

Might go to Kuai for the sites, grand canyon? and “Movie Tour”. Some private time with the bf on V-day. Will return to the site of the near-drowning. See if it bears up to memory and lore.

I will return to The Noonday Demon soon. It will be an appropriate counterbalance to all the bliss of Paradise.

It went pretty well last night. A whole group of us went to see Pan’s Labyrinth. I enjoyed it, but thought it mostly forgettable. Foreign films seem less invested in the dictate that the Americans’ are brainwashed to hold: The Audience Must Be Defined and Entertained. So, I thought it was a little slow, a little grotesque, a little over-the-top, but it didn’t stop me from enjoying it. It was acted well enough. I’m just struggling to find incomparables and I’m coming up short. Maybe some will come later.

Didn’t have a chance to read yesterday. Still am getting adjusted to the new MS Office. I also downloaded Quicken 2007. I will remain in charge of my money! I swear it. It is my project to become totally organized in 2007. It’s a lofty goal, but I’m going to try to chronicle the foibles as they transpire. I’ve read and/or bought so many time management and organizing books over the last year that I am just stuffed with organizing witticisms. I also know this is easy fodder for my own noonday demon. Perfection does whore with depression. I sometimes think of perfectionism, procrastination, and depression as guilty fuck-buddies. For example, I told myself that I wouldn’t go to the gym until I got myself in order: meal plans, set up a schedule, etc. The idea was to begin only when I’m REALLY ready, so that I don’t let the bodybuilding commitment become a ruse to avoid doing the housework that seemed to fall behind in the past. Case in point: my good friend N– has one of the best workout routines and a very nice body, but his house: A DISASTER. I love him dearly, but I stand by that attribution. He also has one of the tightest schedules I know. So, my depression, who for the purposes of my story I’ll name Monty, pointed out that I couldn’t bear his schedule and his house, ergo don’t do any athletic work until you have completely planned for it. The practical result has been never to go. The lack of balance that perfectionism adjures is quite astounding once you get a longer look at it. I can see why Monty would resort to it.

Speaking of depression, I did have a relatively good time with my old friend last night. I forgot to use a line that I’ve been using on myself: Since you really only get this life to get what you want, when are you going to start claiming your life—your time—for yourself? Do you really think yourself worth so little as to abdicate securing some happiness for yourself? (Please note: The sentiment here is meant to entice my utterly prideful, royal persona.) She’s in a pretty dark place right now and has been for some time. I miss the woman whose sharp wit could be paradoxically conveyed so kindly. She seems so tired and deflated. I also wanted to ask her if she was really strong enough to take on her bf’s depression in addition to her own. Perhaps, her answer would have been the same as it was when I questioned her choices in helping bf, “What choice do I have?” Of course, if one can cut out gods that are viewed to be unhelpful (which she has done), why not cut out bf’s that aren’t helpful either?