After three days at the swanky Stoneleigh Hotel in uptown Dallas (or is it Dallas Uptown?), I had to leave for a five-day business trip on the big island of Hawaii."Come with me," I cajoled, winningly.
"You'll be working. I have to work, too," he replied, matter-of-factly.
"All we have to pay for is your air fare. The hotel's paid for, the rent car is paid for, my air fare is paid for, my food is paid for. Come on." So much for my winning ways, now I was whining.
"I can't take another five days off work." He was firm.
"I can't go. You love Hawaii--you'll have a blast. And besides, you went to Hawaii for your FIRST TWO HONEYMOONS. Let's not tempt fate."
"Hey, I wore a round ring on the fourth finger of my left hand on my first two honeymoons, too, but you don't seem worried about that karma."
"Well, you could stay home and cancel the trip."
"ALOHA!" Aloha means hello and love--but it also means good-bye!
So I went to Hawaii on my honeymoon. Again. But this time by myself. And I DID have a blast! I snorkeled at night with manta rays and spent a day taking a circle island tour with 52 new best friends on a rainbow-painted bus. I posed for one-armed photos of myself in front of waterfalls, palm trees, sea turtles, volcanoes, and black sand beaches which I emailed instantly home to my absent husband.
The picture I sent before I swam with manta rays
The "after" picture. I DID IT!
I ate my way around the island, reliving my past through shave ice, arare, li hing mui, and plate lunches of shoyu chicken and teriyaki beef with rice and macaroni salad, pictures of which I also sent homeward, mostly to my brother who was texting me regularly about da kine.
But the best part about the trip was having someone to come home to!
