Carribbean Conversation

I think coming back from vacation is the closest we'll ever come to knowing what our own birth was like. There we were, all happy and warm and content and then, it's all gone. And we're shoved into (or back into) a world with cold air, loud people and responsibility.

Not that there was doubt beforehand, but the gods were on my side on this one. I had busy times, quiet times, times with friends and alone time. That was probably what I needed most, though I frequently have a hard time admitting it.

Everything I might have been worried about in the beginning was nothing more than a distant thought once I stepped off the plane. It's so easy, when you leave so much of your little world behind, to just be here. To just be in a place where there are no measures, no expectations and very few people to care who you are or what you're doing. Of course, there are those there to see and be seen. There are always those. But they don't take anything from you, from your experience.

The sailing was great, even with uncooperative wind.

"I don't know," said our Captain, "I think the mountains are calling me again."
"I understand," I told him. "Just remember, Doug, it gets cold up there."

A day on White Bay. Or was it two?

"How long were you there?"

"Just for the day."

"Really?"

"I think so... I'm pretty sure. You get sucked into some kind of Live Slow vortex over there."


Some time spent snorkeling... never a disappointment on St. John.

"Did you see the shark?"

"WHAT?! What shark?"

"Oh... ummm, nothing. Turtle. I meant turtle."


In come the waves, out go your cares.

"It is a known fact that all troubles and cares dissolve in sea water."

"All of them?"

"Yes, but as a Plan B, we have rum."


Palms growing any way they choose.

"This is supposedly the nude beach."

"Like all year round?"

What else would you rather see when you walked over a hill?

"Doing a head stand in salt water hurts."

" Honey, I think doing a head stand always hurts."


One of the billion photos I took of boats.

"One day, I promise, I will have my own boat down here."

"Cool, can I be your first mate?"

"Sure. But the first mate does all the work, you know?"

"Never mind. Who drinks all the rum? I want to be that guy."

Chick Magnet

Thanks to Margo for the photo.

Not a Moment Too Soon

If last week were, say, part of a contest- a really not fun contest where a family could compete with other families, or a twenty-seven-year-old woman could compete with other twenty-seven-year-old women- to see who could have the worst week ever, my family and I would have been fierce competitors. Or maybe, if there were a television show called Worst Week Ever and they featured people that were really having a really bad week, we might have been one of the top stories.
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The loss of a family member started the week. Then, a much beloved couple close the family have decided to separate. Then, a family member attended and then, subsequently, was stranded at a wedding-gone-wrong. In Kentucky. Kentucky, where none of us is right now. And we thought that was it; we thought we had our Unfortunate Things Happen in Threes trifecta. But then someone had a heart attack and all my theories of threes just went out the window, along with the cake I'd tried to bake but couldn't because the middle kept sinking. Twice. Thank you. (The upside to that is, you have to do something with all that icing you made. I opted to eat it, rather than slapping it directly onto my thighs. Yes, thank you, again.)
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So many times in the last week, I've found myself just shaking my head, trying to think but not really being able to get anywhere. I've written a thousand things, most of which make no sense now and the rest of which will probably make very little sense in the days to come. I've gone for countless runs (yes, more than once per day), thrown myself into work only to come out feeling drained and guilty, and tried passing the time with friends and drinks and catching a little bit of sunlight. It's incredibly challenging to catch sunlight in between all the clouds, by the way.
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While I know this is not the worst plight in life (I'm well aware more people than me could be on the Worst Week Ever) I'd be a complete fraud if I didn't admit to what I'm thinking right now: I have a break coming in seven days and my gosh, I feel like I've earned it.

Re:

It's list time.

Re: Sailing trip
Still working out the details. There's a little more cost involved than I thought but something's still telling me I need to do it. So what's the best way to tell people you're skipping Christmas [gifts] this year?

Re: Half marathon
I'm doing one in a couple weeks. Or didn't I mention that? Yeah, I plan to bring my little camera and make it a "fun run." If I thought this were anywhere near a PR opportunity, I'd need a psychiatric evaluation. Immediately.

Re: Dating
It is less fun than it used to be. I don't like the dragging out of it all. But hey, I'm okay with that. It could be worse, I could be an astronaut.

Re: George Strait
Remains one of my favorite things in music. He was in Denver last weekend. Leave your smoke and mirrors at home, kids, this guy doesn't need any of that, and that's just the way I like it. And if I'm being totally honest, the guy could walk out on stage and sing names from the phone book and I'd love it.

Re: Weather
It has been beautiful here. Spring is coming, I need not whine any longer about hating Winter. I am not sure who's more relieved, you or me.

Re: Caffeine
I haven't had any in three weeks. Some might say I gave it up for Lent, but just started early. I might say I just wanted to see if I could. So far, I can and against all my prior beliefs, I'm not dead yet. I also feel better, I can't explain how. More calm, maybe? I don't know. I'm sure it won't last forever, though. I love chai tea too much.

Caring for caring's sake

Somewhere, sometime, who knows when, my sister and I have switched roles. She's less often inclined to play the free-spirited adventurer role and I'm more inclined to seek experiences out. She used to be the one that would take risks while I'd be the one carefully calculating every move, lest I arrive somewhere five minutes late and end the very world as we know it.

I like to think, for the most part, we are equally there for each other on the advice front though. It's nice to have that dependable, caring voice of reason. Then again, sometimes that voice of reason is less than reasonable (albeit never less caring).

"So you just sail, out on the water with nothing around you for days and days?"

"Yes, that's partially the point."

"But what if something happens? What if the boat tips over?"

"The boats don't often 'tip over.' I mean, it could happen but they're generally made to not tip over."

"Well they have to rock back and forth to sail. They practically tip sideways, that's how they go."

"That is not how they go. They sail, with sails. And wind. It's not like the ski boat out on the lake like when we were kids, you know?"

"Of course not. But what about sharks? Have you seen that movie where a boat leaves those people out in the ocean and they drown or get eaten by sharks and die?"

"No, I didn't see that. But that was different, those people we diving and under water and... why am I even explaining this? It's completely different."

"What about whales? What if a whale jumps on the boat?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"Whales are big."

"When is the last time you picked up the paper and read about a boat sunken by an incredible jumping whale?"

"Alright, but I'm still skeptical."

"Obviously."


You have to admit, having someone who loves you enough to fear things that aren't even possible, well that's pretty special.

Carpe Diem?

I have an opportunity to seize the day. Fourteen of them, actually.

Over the next few years (or so), a friend of a friend of a friend will be circumnavigating the globe on a 65' Ketch he just purchased in early 2006. He's an accomplished skipper, has already got about the first two years planned out and is looking for friends to help crew. Not your standard "barefoot cruise," my friend. You have to participate.

Most of the legs are three or four weeks long but he's got a couple two week legs in there, too. Do I need to say it? Probably not. But there's one leg that works out quite perfectly for my calendar in early 2008. It's approximately a year from now. Sure, there was this other thing I'd like to do but sailing for two weeks at minimal cost (seriously affordable) might just have to take precedent.

The thing is, I just don't know. A year in advance is tough to plan. Jumping on a boat with people I've never met before is a little scary- okay, I've done it before but two weeks is a little more than your standard island hop. I'm trying to be logical. Last year, though, I read this book and when I finished it, I promised myself if I ever had the opportunity to do something even remotely close, I would take it.

I'm also overwhelmed with the thought of how great it could be and the amazing opportunity. Think of the experience, and learning about sailing; my gosh how I've wanted to do that! And the leg? It's perfect, it's one of the Caribbean legs (go ahead, act like you're not surprised I'd choose that one). It feels like a "sign" or something that this particular leg, in my preferred season, in my preferred sea, is being put in front of me right now.

I have some thinking to do.