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Monday, November 01, 2004

Excuse Me While I Sleep In...

It's been a little crazy around here. In the midst of the craziness, I discovered just what a lousy hostess I am. I'm thoroughly embarassed.

Now, just so you know; my sister doesn't think I'm a bad hostess. She's extended that "Oh don't worry about it" allowance that you extend to family and close friends when things don't go according to plan. As they say, and as I'm completely reminded; "the best laid plans of mice and men..." Still, I can't help but feel that I suck, and as is usual with me, I'm harder on myself than anyone else can possibly be.

To be fair, I did spent the first part of the week waiting for inept painters and carpenters to come and give estimates on the house repairs we needed done. Out of the five that were scheduled to come, only two actually showed up. Of those two, only one showed up when he said he was going to show up. The other showed up on a motorcycle. With his girlfriend. Two days late. I missed doing all the things that I usually do, like grocery shopping, because I was sitting around waiting for people to show up. So, when my sister arrived, I felt like Old Mother Hubbard because the cupboards were bare. No problem; we went out to eat. A lot. Bless her heart; Loke never complained. Not once. Even when she slept on the couch. Or tried to, I should say.

So, about the class. We both signed up to take a Notary Public class. A six hour course followed by the certification test administered by the State of California. Remember when I was a proctor for the kids SATs a few weeks ago? Well, let's just say that I'm one SEXY proctor. These women were the ones that volunteer at the polls on voting day. Yes, the very ones you'll see tomorrow. Blue-haired, sweet, grandmas. One difference. These grannies were on speed. I think they were from Pasadena. They talked a mile a minute while giving the instructions. One never breathed in between sentences. She just barked out the orders in run-on sentences and if you turned your attention away for even one nano-second, you literally trembled with fear that you missed something really important. I thought for a minute we were dealing with the Granny Gestapo. They made you feel that if you were caught cheating, some sort of archaic torture methods would be administered. My sister and I hugged each other and wished one another good luck. When I opened my book to the first page, I looked down at my hand and saw that my No. 2 pencil was shaking. All I could think was, "Oh shit."

An hour later, after Loke and I left the test room, we met outside to talk about the test.

Lokelani: How'd you do, Sis?

Pua: I think I did ok.

Lokelani: I think I failed.

Pua: No, you did fine.

Lokelani: What did you get for number 6?

Pua: (confident) I said A on that one.

Lokelani: Oh. What did you get for number 15?

Pua: (a little less confident) I think I said D on that one.

Lokelani: Oh. What did you get for number 23?

Pua: (not confident at all) B..? I think.

Loke and Me in unison: We're screwed.

On the drive home, Loke wanted to go drink. I wanted to too. But I was exhausted. The day completely wore me out. Both of us looked like we had been through the ringer. Charlie had called and left me a voicemail that my brother Skip was in town from up north and would be at the house in an hour. Oh great. I already know there's no food or drink in the house and I'm about to introduce my "new" sister to my "old" brother. I'm silently trying to stir up zen-like thoughts in my head to calm myself. My zen-like thoughts led me to call Papa John's. When all else fails, call for pizza.

Skip arrived minutes after Loke and I got home. The introductions were easy. I explained to Skip how Lokelani and I were 11 months apart and how our birth parents had already promised her adoptive parents a girl. They had already given them a boy, my brother Lono, and now they wanted a girl. So, Loke and my brother Lono, both grew up together in the same adoptive family. Their relationship is very much like my relationship with Skip. Though Skip and I don't share a common gene or the same bloodline like Loke and Lono, he's my big brother and he's always looked out for me. Skip was amazed at how much Loke and I looked alike. We smiled and said that we're getting that a lot these days. It feels nice to know you look like someone. When Skip and his wife left for the evening (they were staying at a hotel), he hugged me and said, "I'm really really happy for you Sis. Really happy you found your sister." Then he hugged Loke and said; "Nice to meet you Sis." I smiled. It was a good moment in my life.

I couldn't offer anyone a home cooked meal. I didn't have anything in the house to drink other than white and red wine. But everyone seemed to do alright despite my awful hostessing skills. Hey, at least I made sure that there was a supply of toilet paper in the bathroom. And two of my favorite people in the world got to meet each other. I'd call it a success. Now all Loke and I need to hear from the Secretary of State is that we passed our Notary test. THAT is what is known as a happy ending.


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