If you're not a fan of the ellipsis (or a thousand of them), avoid this blog like the plague. Maybe it was all those years reading Herb Caen, who knows? All I know is that I love to use them. I don't even think about it...they just appear. So if you're annoyed by them, stop reading! 'Cause they're not going away. My old sportswriter friend refers to his occasional use of them in his column as the "3 Dot Lounge." This is more like the 3 Dot Closet...I'm not nearly hip enough yet to have my own lounge.

You might wonder why a woman living in the tropics would feature a link to a drum company in Portland, Oregon. Well, those are the drums that my live-in boyfriend plays and he not only endorses them, he sells 'em, too. So if you reside anywhere in the Caribbean basin and are in dire need of some fab-u-lo-so custom drums, e-mail me and I'll put you in touch with him. (Really, they're great drums...the snare alone will bring a smile to your percussive face.)

Living with your love...is it ever easy? Is it always rewarding? Is it a constant juggling act between love and extreme annoyance? Can I possibly stop speaking in cliches? All I know after eight years in my current (and hopefully, last) relationship is that it seems to me that the recipe for making it work (especially when you're sharing a very small living space on a small island in the middle of the ocean...don't ever underestimate the power of being able to get in the car and just drive the hell out of town to clear your head...an impossibility here) is equal parts: How can I still be so smitten by him after all these years? -- and -- I can't stand him right now and must immediately bury my nose in a book behind a closed door and "escape." I guess yin's only rockin' when yang comes a-knockin'.

These very early morning hours are some of my favorite ones of the day. Total darkness outside...very few homes in our sightline and the few that are are across a small vally and up on a ridge. All I hear are the crickets...the occasional tree frog...and the gentle whir of the box fan that I've aimed right at me. I think I've always been in love with the wee hours of the night/morning. So even though my life-long insomnia has been a cause of extreme annoyance (and my occasional lack of get-up-and-go), it's always made me feel like I'm getting an extra dose of something...I don't know what...but something. And for someone who spent her childhood constantly fearing she was "missing out" on something, I guess that became an important, comforting feeling. It's the very rare night that I sleep straight through till morning. But that's okay. As a kid, I'd put my transistor radio under the covers and listen to powerful AM stations in San Francisco, L.A. or Portland...and fantasize about life in the big city. And I still do that. You can fill my house with CD players or Walkmans or clock/radios or any number of items that include a radio...I'll always choose my little $5 transistor. Because I'll take my childhood comforts where I can get 'em. My beau adopted my transistor habit years ago. So think of us, in the chirping, quiet, gentle, warm tropics...lulling ourselves back to sleep...by the tinny AM sound of life in the big city.