As the kind of person who likes to watch scary movies with friends over the weekends, I hear a lot of "ghost stories."  75% of them are from my bored Internet explorations, and I shan't lie.  They creep me out.  Even if I'm not totally sure if any of them are legit.  But whether they're real or not, usually it's just fun to look into for the heck of it.
  Except...sometimes I get to wondering about the side of these things that's more than just silly campfire aspect.  I mean, just think about the prospect of beings we can't see... there.  Around you.  If you believe in a life after this one, that leaves how many billions of departed souls wandering around the earth?  Believe what you wish, but my family has had some bizarre psychic experiences that can leave anyone up to pondering about.  And these, I know, are not made up.

• When my mom Cheri was probably ten, she lived on a farm in Texas.  She had a cow she was planning to take to the fair for competition, but her horse kept eating the cow's food so that the cow was getting skinny.  One day my mom was trying to shoo the horse away from the food, and he got upset. He kicked my mom in the heart area of her chest {a force that led to still-existing cardiac issues} and knocked her unconscious, face down in the mud.  From the house a few acres away, my grandma heard my mom screaming for help-- despite the fact that my mom was definitely passed out.  So my grandma ran to help her and immediately called 911.  As she was being loaded into the ambulance, the phone rang.  It was my great-grandma calling from California.

                          "What happened to Cheri?" she asked frantically.
                          My grandma paused, confused.  "How do you know there's something wrong?"
                          "Because the clocks are ticking backwards and Cheri's picture is upside down."
            As it turned out, my great-grandma lived in one of the oldest homes in Sacramento-- a former          carriage house, where all the deceased were taken before burial.

• When my mom was in college, she had a nightmare that she was driving with her radio up loud and wasn't paying attention when a siren-blaring ambulance came at full speed and wasn't able to stop before crashing into her car-- a horrific wreck.  The dream disturbed her, but she had forgotten about it by the next week.  She had stuff to do, and one day she was driving around the BYU Provo area.  Her radio was up loud for the heck of it.  To her luck {she thought distractedly}, all of the cars started merging to the opposite lane, so she just figured Sweet, I'll get there faster in a clear lane.  She didn't hear the ambulance wailing towards her and with shocked horror she realized this was an exact replica of the previous dream she had totally pushed aside as nothing.  How fortunate the both vehicles barely managed to swerve away on time.  
• Around my house, there have been a number of bizarre occurrences for the past nine years since my grandma passed away.  We all adored her and my mom says she was always the type of person who was crazy and trying to have fun.  I'm not saying all or even any of these things were her, but...  When she died, we kept her old printer.  I remember every night around midnight, though not at a specific time, the printer would always go off.  It would make those loud mechanical whirring sounds as if it were going to print something, then didn't.  My mom even tried to turn it off before going to bed, yet it would still go off like always.  This went on for about a year.
• We have an antique replica of a Spanish colonial ship named "Fragata Española: Año1790."  It's something my grandpa on the other side of the family found decades ago and always admired, a very pretty collection piece. Anyway, one time in the middle of the night we heard a huge crash.  We discovered that the shelf the ship was displayed on had somehow fallen completely off the wall, despite being bulky enough to support the ship and never having issues before.  Partly beneath the shelf, there was a sofa.  The shelf landed completely diagonal and scewampous over the side over the couch arm, which could only be expected after a five-and-a-half-foot fall.  That's the sad physics of gravity for yah.  But the ship?  Despite it's bearer crashing hard and wrong on the edge of the sofa, the ship managed to fall to the side, away from the shelf and the sofa, completely upright on the floor. 

•   One time in junior high, I was the last one up, still doing homework at 11:30.  My room then was over the garage, and like always when the garage opened, my floor rumbled loudly to announce it.  At first I passed it off as nothing-- my dad must've remembered to take out the trash or something and gotten up to do that.  But then I got these chills, and I decided I wasn't so sure about that theory.  Panicked, I raced across the house and tried to open my parents' door-- but it was locked.  I banged on it till they finally got out of bed and opened the door.  Both of them, there.  

                   "That wasn't you who just opened the garage."  I gasped. 
                  "The garage opened?" they said, confused.  My dad shrugged and went downstairs to check.  Sure enough, the garage was wide open.  I still to this day don't know how.

• Before getting into high school required one of those $100 T-84s, I had a pretty crappy calculator.  It was one of those old sun-powered things my dad let me use when he decided it would do him no good.  Half the time the numbers wouldn't show up, or I'd have to press buttons super hard, and sometimes the dang thing would turn on and produce numbers for no reason, though probably half the time just having been bounced around in my backpack.   But one time, after not touching it for several days in a secluded corner of my room, I discovered the calculator on with the numbers 666 across the top.

 I don't know how these things work.  People will be skeptical as they will, but I for one at least know these stories weren't fictional.  Some I believe were the influence of God trying to protect, others....  I don't know.  I'll admit we have other stories forbidden to be told. But they leave you wondering.

  Our second leg of the journey was in Oahu on the North Shore.  This time, instead of staying in another resort, we lodged in an adorable three-room beach house.   The backyard was literally the beach, which meant every morning we got to wake up to the sight of the ocean through the windows.  We decided to chill more than run around, so we'd spend a lot of time relaxing by reading, kayaking, tanning, eating dried pineapple. I found that I was able to break through a mental block and begin writing a new novel, which was really exciting for me.  At night, we flicked on flashlights and crab-hunted. 
Our parents spoil us when we vacation.  At least food-wise.  They cooked up Spam {since apparently that's a Hawaiian thing to do} and Kalua pork and hooked us up with plenty of shaved ice, friend bananas and macadamia nut ice cream.  Oh, and we found out that birds like food a lot too when this little duo would not leave us alone and even snatched a bag of Doritos.
  We were only five minutes away, so we visited both BYU campus and the temple.  Man, would I love to go to college here.  Us older people had the opportunity to do baptisms for the dead; the design is beautiful and as always the Spirit could be felt.
Snorkeling and scuba diving were most definitely amazing experiences.  Like I've said, it was magnificent catching a glimpse of some exotic sea animal, even if sea urchins crowed the rocks and we had to swim carefully.  But look!  I never thought I was a good swimmer till I swam all the way to that cove in the photo below and back, probably a distance of 1-1.5 miles altogether.  Angel fish, sea turtles, sea stars, unicorn fish, ten dozen creatures I can't name... I've definitely never experienced anything like that. 
  On the last morning, Mom and I decided to get up early and watch the sunrise.  Boy was it worth it.

  One of the days we sailed away on a catamaran.  Maybe it's just because I'm from the desert, but I didn't get over the gorgeousness of the blue seas, the refreshment of the salty breeze, the loveliness of the jungle mountains the entire time.  We snorkeled, fighting over frozen peas to feed swarms of enthusiastic and not-so-shy fish.  I've never seen so many aquatic creatures in my life, but they were all fascinating in their beautiful or just plain bizarre shapes, colors, and habits.

  Another time we took a hike.  Japanese influence embellished the lands before the trail, as did strange types of plants-- lots of gruava trees-- and streams.  Even though we accidentily left our bag of tennis shoes at the hotel and had to hike in flipflops, the air was so pure that it was much more exhilerating than difficult.  Now see, I was smart and wore a swimsuit underneath.  Sure enough we encountered water, and even though my siblings could only stick their feet in, I plunged into the gurgling stream with no regrets.
  Now I must dedicate a photo section to the flowers.  Because they were lovely.

For our first full day of the trip, we got up early, ate some Costco muffins {such a delicious vacation delicacy}, and jammed ourselves in the minivan.  Anyone vacationing to Maui knows that they can't skip out of the Road to Hana, so that's precisely what we spent the day doing.
  People are always singing about how life is "about the journey," and this was a perfect example to make that true.  Although Hana itself was small and simply, it was the drive itself-- looking out the window, listening to Selena Gomez's Star Dance album-- and taking the little stops along the road that made the experience one of the best of the entire trip.
  It started with the city melting into more wilderness.  On one side lay the sapphire sea and on the other the emerald land, which then scrunched up into densely-forested mountains.  We all took medicine beforehand to prevent carsickness {except Rachel, who refuses to swallow pills} because the road was extremely windy and pathetically-railed and often one-lane.  After an hour, hour first stop was a tiny village with a centuries-old church and black volcanic rock strewn with crabs and sea snails.
We kept driving.  On vacation you are always hungry for something exotic, so we stopped at a rustic shack for coconut-pineapple bread, Cuban bananas and dried coconut candy.   The shack filled with hundreds of pictures on every wall of tourists who had stopped by.  The lady was sweet like the treats she sold, even if her kitten jumped up and snatched Eric's bread.
  While driving through another village, all of a sudden one of the kids shouted "Look! A HORSE!" The other kids all got excited, until someone older moaned, "Are you kidding me?  That's a dog."  And as if this wasn't enough, a few hours later Adam gasped, "A bear!  Look!  A bear!"  Olivia chimed in, "Oh my goodness it's a bear!"  All the kids started shouting, despite mom trying to tell them that bears don't live on the island.  They ignored that fact.  Until one of the older people once again pointed out the flaw in their argument:  "Uhhh... That would be a cow."  We didn't let that one go the rest of trip, yelling out "Look!  A herd of bears!" every time we saw some cows.

  One stop we knew would be pretty important was the black sand beach.  One of my first memories was when I was two, picking up a handful of the strange black substance and not being able to get it off my hands {apparently I resorted to sticking it in my mouth, though I don't remember that}.  It was a lovely place-- the sand that sifted between our toes was the product of thousands of years of volcanic rock being dashed to bits by stunningly blue waves.  We hiked around and found a gorgeous view where the water tumbled into the side of the black cliff and exploded in a high spray of blue mist, where distant mountains faded into the background.  The kids couldn't get enough of the water and were delighted at the sight of crabs camouflaged in the rocks.  By chance I even found a huge cavern; though it looked like just a little hole in the side of a hill, when you ducked inside the ceiling rose and the place extended to the water out the other side.
   One of my mom's favorite stops from our last trip was the Seven Sacred Pools, so we crossed our fingers we could visit.  Crossed fingers doesn't work though-- this famous landmark was still victim of the stupid government shutdown.  Ughhhh.  The ironic thing was, despite the fact that almost no one supervises the place when it's open, there were several people being paid to make sure no one got it.  Oh well.  We stopped for a picnic at the side of a little church and also visited the grave of Charles Lindbergh, a man revolutionary in the aviary world.
  Then we saw a little path from a tiny opening in a fence and decided to be adventurous explorers.  We squeezed through and found people cliffjumping.  Jackpot!  I felt like such a wuss having to be lured into jumping, but my brother was jumping from 45 feet with this guy we found out was a trapese artist.  Crazy right?  I did jump 35 feet after a while and it turned out fun and didn't kill me by hitting rocks or something as my brain expected.  The kids did flips and yelled animal noises such as "Cockadoodle-meow!" {???}

We didn't get to the hotel till dark.  The way back seemed longer despite the fact that we didn't take any stops like the way up, but maybe that's just because we were so sad to leave.  But seriously, even though my lame descriptions must have dulled the heck out of the story, it was honestly one of the most fun days my family has ever spent together.

We didn't get a lot of sleep that night.
  First off, trying to get eight people ready for a week-and-a-half long trip kept us up late enough.  But the plane was scheduled to leave at 4:45 AM, which meant we had to get up at 3.  Not as if we minded.
  I love airports.  There is something about the suitcases, the smell of coffee {even if I don't drink it}, the vast types of people scattered through pricey gift shops and exciteable boarding lines.  Maybe it's just nostalgic for me.  Whatever it is, I could hardly contain my excitement, especially when we took our seats aboard the plane and opened up the windows.  With our luggage stored overhead and seatbelts fastened, we listened to the sound of the pilot on the intercom and braced ourselves for the takeoff.   Whoosh!  Our stomachs lurched with that beautiful feeling of leaving ground and then we were soaring.

  Several hours later, the plane touched ground.    When we stepped outside the airport... well, our jaws dropped.  The air was cool with a breeze {if slightly humid} and the world was green.  We certainly weren't in Phoenix anymore.
  Hawaii is as tropical island as any tropical island in the movies-- but better.  Even in the many urban areas, you just get that sense of exotic.  It's jungly with an abundance of thriving trees, lots of coconuts and passion fruits strewn about, and a bouquet of rainbows.  Little fruit stands are scattered along the roads and you get to eat lots of seafood and macadamia nuts.  The water is so blue that it literally looked like someone had photoshopped it, post-card perfect.    
  The resort?  Oh my freaking gosh am I ruined.  It was seriously the most beautiful little hotel in the world, a Westin in Maui to just make you feel tropical and romantic and relaxed and like you never ever want to leave.  I fear I've been too spoiled to ever be able to stay in another hotel again.
  The top two picutres are the views from different sides of the hotel.  We stayed on the tenth floor, so it was gorgeous.  The back of the resort included five pools, a slide, a waterfall, three or four restaurants, venders, a connected mall and whale museum, and not to mention the beach.  Oh, and the flamingos.
When we weren't exploring the hotel, we were enjoying the hotel proudly.  We slept in beyond-comfortable beds, read/tanned next to the pool {we were all arguing over The House of Hades}, ate Hawaiian donuts and tropical smoothies, talked to birds that said "Aloha" when you said "Hello" and "Hello" when you said "Aloha," got tossed by the waves, meandered around the lovely place barefoot.  Etc.  At night I'd sit on the tiny balcony and chat with Bryan till my phone locked.  Oh man the painful irony... We were in Hawaii at the SAME FRIGGEN time but went to Oahu on different legs of our trips!  


People ask me what my favorite vacation has been.  Here's my response to that question:  Are you stupid?  I am absolutely in love with the East Coast, with California, with Colorado, with Escalante, with Peru, with Hawaii.  To have to choose a favorite between so many amazing moments of my life is simply impossible because they were all unique.  I have a passion for travel because setting foot in some place new emerges me in new knowlege, new adventure, new soul.  Hawaii was very  breathtaking though, I will give you that.