So, happy new year and all that, hey?
Today, Ky and I booked plane tickets for a trip to Maui in April. This isn't the usual kind of trip that you'd expect the two of us to take, but our dear Shannon is getting married, and so we're going to spend almost a week there at the end of April. (I'm going without Chris, because he's teaching, and because we can only afford to send one of us.)
Ky and I decided that we should fly out at the same time, and so we booked our tickets together. Possessing plane tickets has made it all seem more real. This means that we've now spent our day calling each other, alternating between reeling from sticker shock, and marveling at the fact that we are really going to Hawaii.
Okay, I've also been making hypothetical vacation plans entirely based on TV shows that had special Hawaiian episodes in the 80s and early 90s. I've decided that Ky's going to briefly fall in love with a surfer, while I'm going to try to save an old hotel (owned by a never-before-mentioned long-lost relative) from evil developers. It's a good thing that the Cunninghams only went to California, because neither of us will be jumping a shark while we're there.
What other wacky adventures do you think we'll have? (Don't worry: we've already decided that we'll do at least the clap/jazz hands from the Very Brady Sequel when we're in the plane, if not the entire "Good Time Music" dance sequence.)