I wanna be a Seal
I went surfing for the first time in yesterday. I’ve honestly tried to express my feeling about the entire experience several times already and just found myself at a loss of words, rewriting. I’m going o give up trying to be eloquent and just write it out. First, some background. I am afraid of water and it doesn’t help that I’m a poor swimmer. I haven’t let this stop me from jumping in, but I’ve always thought about how far I was from shore, about how tired my arms were, where the current was pulling me, etc. So yesterday I decided against by better instincts that I should join Jason (who can surf) Ginevra, Dr Jill (all of who can’t surf) and just rent the gear and hit the water.
But before we get there, can I just say that there is nothing hotter than a wet suit both figuratively and literally. Is there anything sexier than a woman in a wetsuit not only for what it shows, but also for what it implies whether falsely or not about her of her coolness? Is there anything hotter than a surfer chick? Also, I looked damn sexy.
There we were at Linda del Mar (the spot where Harold of the duo Harold and Maude drove his car off the cliff). The sky was grey with a storm approaching, the sea grey and choppy, and the sea filled with an invasion force of neoprene clad ninjas on boards. All looking back, waiting to the order to rise and ride to the beach. We grabbed our boards and paddled out to join them. And the first shock of that beautiful day was the warmth. The warm, warm, frigid water. I have found myself shivering so uncontrollably in the waters off Catalina in the middle of summer in southern California with tropical fish swimming about that I couldn’t speak much less swim. I’m ultimately from LA, and I handle the cold poorly. On a chilly day you’ll probably be right as often as not if you guessed I was wearing long underwear and here I was in water colder the a witches tit just south of SF with a storm form Alaska approaching and perfectly comfortable, toasty in fact.
We paddled out and were dragged in, fell off our boards, were pulled down the coastline by the current, tasted the water and basically did everything that a true surfer never does. And through the whole while there was Jason with his patient hand always beckoning us closer. If asked what I learned that day about surfing I would have to say that it was to follow Jason as if he was a siren and you a lonely sailor.
The rain started not too soon after we got out and I hope against hope that whatever happens to me in life that this memory will forever remain as vivid as it is for me now. The grey sea, white caps whipping to and fro, spray rising here and there, grey rain clouds dimpling the swells all about with raindrops. the smell and taste of sea water, being exhausted but warm and content half in the sea on a board and all about me, friends smiling, playful and happy.
But before we get there, can I just say that there is nothing hotter than a wet suit both figuratively and literally. Is there anything sexier than a woman in a wetsuit not only for what it shows, but also for what it implies whether falsely or not about her of her coolness? Is there anything hotter than a surfer chick? Also, I looked damn sexy.
There we were at Linda del Mar (the spot where Harold of the duo Harold and Maude drove his car off the cliff). The sky was grey with a storm approaching, the sea grey and choppy, and the sea filled with an invasion force of neoprene clad ninjas on boards. All looking back, waiting to the order to rise and ride to the beach. We grabbed our boards and paddled out to join them. And the first shock of that beautiful day was the warmth. The warm, warm, frigid water. I have found myself shivering so uncontrollably in the waters off Catalina in the middle of summer in southern California with tropical fish swimming about that I couldn’t speak much less swim. I’m ultimately from LA, and I handle the cold poorly. On a chilly day you’ll probably be right as often as not if you guessed I was wearing long underwear and here I was in water colder the a witches tit just south of SF with a storm form Alaska approaching and perfectly comfortable, toasty in fact.
We paddled out and were dragged in, fell off our boards, were pulled down the coastline by the current, tasted the water and basically did everything that a true surfer never does. And through the whole while there was Jason with his patient hand always beckoning us closer. If asked what I learned that day about surfing I would have to say that it was to follow Jason as if he was a siren and you a lonely sailor.
The rain started not too soon after we got out and I hope against hope that whatever happens to me in life that this memory will forever remain as vivid as it is for me now. The grey sea, white caps whipping to and fro, spray rising here and there, grey rain clouds dimpling the swells all about with raindrops. the smell and taste of sea water, being exhausted but warm and content half in the sea on a board and all about me, friends smiling, playful and happy.
posted by Yen at
12:17 PM
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