Tuesday, July 26, 2005

H2Oh the horror!

My coach informed me last night, after an hour and a half of swimming painful laps of freestyle (the "crawl" for you non-swimmers) and backstroke ("blind crawl resulting in bruises and slight concussion" for non-swimmers like myself) that I am an aquaphobe. I thought this was a compliment, like "You are a natural and swim like a fish!" until my Vocab 101 kicked in and I realized what she was telling me.

Aquaphobia: An abnormal and persistent fear of water. Sufferers of aquaphobia experience anxiety even though they realize the water in an ocean, a river, a lake, a creek or even a bathtub may pose no imminent threat.

Now come on Mr. Webster, of COURSE I realize that the water in my bathtub poses no imminent threat to my person. I just prefer to take showers. Quick showers. Showers where the water runs immediately down the drain and straight into the pipes which will eventually transport it all the way back to its home in the Pacific Ocean. That big, dark, cold, waves-crashing, jellyfish-hiding-in-seaweed, hungry-shark-dwelling ocean. *shiver*

I think my aquaphobia (not medically diagnosed) stems from the time I watched "Jaws" at the Lake cabin then proceeded to go tubing. My mom was driving, her friend Cheryl was spotting. So our tube ride went something like this: Michelle and I getting whipped around the frothy wake of our turquoise '68 Bayliner, screaming bloody murder, while Cheryl and my mom are chatting away in the boat impervious to our shouts of "For the love of GOD, SLOWER!" Suffice it to say, after one donut hole too many, I was flipped off the tube and skipped like a rock for 40 feet, landing squarely in a thick bed of kelp. The boat kept going with petrified Michelle in tow, and the chatty Moms still oblivious behind the wheel. Da nuh, da nuh, danuh danuh danuh danuh AHHHHHHH!

As I got older, I quickly traded in my inner tube for a slalom ski. I still get behind the boat every chance I get (well, every time Hayden has anything resembling flat water), but I still hate the thought of falling in seaweed. Easy solution? I don't fall. I've gotten very good at waterskiing by using this technique. You should try it; it is guaranteed to improve your form.

Saturday, July 23, 2005

July Club Race

Doing my part to feed the hungry racers. 700m/13.5mile/3.7mile

Monday, February 14, 2005

Dear Valentine,

Sitting in a coffee franchise, drinking water because I am already caffeinated. Killing time until my noon business lunch, which hopefully will not include business talk at all. The barista here is nice—he didn’t make me pay to enjoy the sunshine at this corner table. And for Beverly Hills, that is a rare treat.

In my suit I fit right in, but they don’t know that my 3-day bed head smells of smoke and bars and a comedy club where Chris Rock stopped in to practice his Oscar routine. For West Hollywood, I guess it is a common occurrence to be graced with celebrity. But after paying a measly $17 cover, I was thrilled. Cheap thrills baby, that’s what I like.

I really feel like calling you lately. Probably to tell you all the little meaningless details of my everyday. And to tell you that I keep dreaming of you coming home early, catching you waiting for my surprised gaze and amazed grin. I miss slowly wandering with you through crowded market stalls in search of fresh bread. I miss those rare moments when I could reach inside of you and pull out exactly what I came to you longing for.

I miss you, Valentine.