Scuba diving, like optometry, is yet another random/quirky love of mine. When my sister went into her junior year of HS she decided to ditch the idea of becoming a "burger king giver outer" and aspired to attend college to become a nautical archeologist. My father only saw this as a minor step up. Being the practical man that he is, he insisted she take scuba diving lessons to first make sure she could handle this possible future job. He decided to join her and they spent the next two years taking trips and leaving my mother and I at home. Naturally as my sister was about to graduate and move far away (NH - the university has the best nautical archeology program in the states), my father realized he needed a new buddy (you always dive with a "buddy" as a safety precaution). He basically forced me into lessons, which I was not happy about. Although, I took them with a good friend and the best part about diving is its a good thing to pee your pants. In this case its a wetsuit, and in the chilly water, your own urine is quite warm! Lauren had me giggling in my booties every week so I blame her for my lack of hypothermia.
Anyways, diving requires a lot of learning. You can spend hours, if not days, reading about how you can die underwater and what NOT to do to get yourself into that predicament. But in the end, they overall process is quite easy... You put a hose in your mouth filled with air, jump in, and as Nemo's friends would say 'swim down!'. There is a ton of stuff to see down there most times. I prefer the warmer weather of the florida keys or some island in the carribean... Ive been to: the bahamas, turks and caicos, cayman islands, puerto rico, dom rep... I cant rememeber everywhere, but mostly fun trips.
This past year, I managed to escape residency for three trips to the keys. Its so easy to get to and there is enough to see to keep me occupied. The first two trips were with a boy I thought I was dating. After all, who in their right mind goes away on a trip with a person of the opposite sex, just as friends. The trip was tons of fun and only inspired me to get my advanced certification. This flaky guy was off and on and although I really liked him, I tried to just go MIA during the holidays so he would get the hint this was clearly not working. Needless to say we booked another trip in February. After a lot of talk, I knew he didnt want to be in a relationship, but I went anyway. This was partially in a last ditch effort to satiate my heart (big mistake) but more importantly to take time off of the hell of residency. I was crying approximatly three days a week after work at this point. I was ready for it to all be over, but I still had four months to get through. Why not get out of the snow and into a bikini?! Of course we embarked on this adventure in February... the weekend of the 13th and 14th. Not only was this Valentines, but his birthday. I was nice, I got him a little something (for being old only). The diving was horrible. My toes and lips were blue and I was shaking. I only stayed under the water long enough because above water was colder. The trip was a bit of a bust but a trip to Shell World and a Lobster/candlelight dinner wasnt too bad. Are you as confused as I am by now? Valentines morning, I woke up early and ran out to get coffee and muffins and a candle to make it like a mini bday cake... I go back to the hotel to find a box of chocolates and a tiny bear dressed in scuba gear. I have never recieved anything on valentines day, let alone from someone I liked who I thought did not feel the same way. If any of you have watched Sex and the City you know my exact feeling if you can picture Miranda seeing the "I love you" cookie cake. Clearly I couldnt shove a box of choclates into my mouth without him seeing, but I thanked him and felt uneasy the rest of the day.
In the end, many months later on a trip up to Newport (where he lives, about 2 blocks away from me right now - fantastic!) to interview for my now job... I drank a pitcher of margeritas and told him how I really felt about the whole situation. It obviously did not go well and the next day will go down in history for the worst hangover anyone has ever had, despite it not including tigers, strippers, or mike tyson. I moved up two months later and the texts and emails started and I kindly asked for them to stop. He left it with "I wish we were only every just friends" Which clearly means you are fun to hang out with, but I find you unattractive.
Yesterday I get a text, after about a month, of a picture of his new regulator (air supplier mouthpiece thingy) Ironic, since I was supposed to be diving that day and the weather threw too much surge to go out. I woke up this morning headed to the dive shop and picked up some tanks. As I was turning out of the driveway there he comes prancing with a box of dunkin donuts in his right hand and a girl in the left.She might have been an extra on the set of Gossip girl by her looks and apparent age, but Im not going to judge. Im sure she is a perfectly nice girl that actually laughs at his jokes and doesnt question his girlish fear of spiders.
I headed out to Ft. Wetherill, a small cove on the tip of Jamestown. It took approximately 20 minutes to pull 6mm thick neoprine over my not size 2 body. It was there I thought I should come home and blog about this all. I know its not that funny, and Im rambing a lot, but I just wanted to write to get it all out. Diving is like life. You scrape your knuckles and curse the sky trying to wedge your fat rolls into a thick wetsuit. You spend another 20 minutes adding more weights (to get you under the water - like I didnt have enough of my own) and tanks and BCs... you walk ten minutes with 100lbs on your back and wonder why you do this all in the first place. But that is what life is, sometimes you bear the weight weather its in equipment or emotion. But then, you slip into the water, let all the air out of your lungs and sink below. You cant hear a thing, but a dull hum of ocean life. I can scream at the top of my lungs and no one will hear me. Its amazing. I have a framed picture in my living room by an artist Brian Andreas its of an odd looking character and it says "i always like the time before dawn because there is no one around to remind me of who im supposed to be" ... its like that. And, if I could get to 100 feet, the compression of the wetsuit might at least get me to a size 4. But, my hair will always be curly and gangly. I will always just kill the damn spiders myself.
I step out of the water after an hour of swimming around. Peel off that wetsuit and head home. Its been a good day, none-the-less. I spent a year wondering what I could do to be good enough. I dont believe its anything other than plastic surgery can fix. I dont really know where to go from here... other than submerge myself in the ocean to forget all my problems. I know I dont want to spend another year being reminded of what I am not. So fingers crossed for new dive buddies!
That was a morbid ending to a would be humoros blog... so Ill end on this... I had it wrong. Peeling a label off a catus is nothing... compare to knocking that cactus over and trying to replant it! Thank goodness for neoprin scuba gloves!
Anyways, diving requires a lot of learning. You can spend hours, if not days, reading about how you can die underwater and what NOT to do to get yourself into that predicament. But in the end, they overall process is quite easy... You put a hose in your mouth filled with air, jump in, and as Nemo's friends would say 'swim down!'. There is a ton of stuff to see down there most times. I prefer the warmer weather of the florida keys or some island in the carribean... Ive been to: the bahamas, turks and caicos, cayman islands, puerto rico, dom rep... I cant rememeber everywhere, but mostly fun trips.
This past year, I managed to escape residency for three trips to the keys. Its so easy to get to and there is enough to see to keep me occupied. The first two trips were with a boy I thought I was dating. After all, who in their right mind goes away on a trip with a person of the opposite sex, just as friends. The trip was tons of fun and only inspired me to get my advanced certification. This flaky guy was off and on and although I really liked him, I tried to just go MIA during the holidays so he would get the hint this was clearly not working. Needless to say we booked another trip in February. After a lot of talk, I knew he didnt want to be in a relationship, but I went anyway. This was partially in a last ditch effort to satiate my heart (big mistake) but more importantly to take time off of the hell of residency. I was crying approximatly three days a week after work at this point. I was ready for it to all be over, but I still had four months to get through. Why not get out of the snow and into a bikini?! Of course we embarked on this adventure in February... the weekend of the 13th and 14th. Not only was this Valentines, but his birthday. I was nice, I got him a little something (for being old only). The diving was horrible. My toes and lips were blue and I was shaking. I only stayed under the water long enough because above water was colder. The trip was a bit of a bust but a trip to Shell World and a Lobster/candlelight dinner wasnt too bad. Are you as confused as I am by now? Valentines morning, I woke up early and ran out to get coffee and muffins and a candle to make it like a mini bday cake... I go back to the hotel to find a box of chocolates and a tiny bear dressed in scuba gear. I have never recieved anything on valentines day, let alone from someone I liked who I thought did not feel the same way. If any of you have watched Sex and the City you know my exact feeling if you can picture Miranda seeing the "I love you" cookie cake. Clearly I couldnt shove a box of choclates into my mouth without him seeing, but I thanked him and felt uneasy the rest of the day.
In the end, many months later on a trip up to Newport (where he lives, about 2 blocks away from me right now - fantastic!) to interview for my now job... I drank a pitcher of margeritas and told him how I really felt about the whole situation. It obviously did not go well and the next day will go down in history for the worst hangover anyone has ever had, despite it not including tigers, strippers, or mike tyson. I moved up two months later and the texts and emails started and I kindly asked for them to stop. He left it with "I wish we were only every just friends" Which clearly means you are fun to hang out with, but I find you unattractive.
Yesterday I get a text, after about a month, of a picture of his new regulator (air supplier mouthpiece thingy) Ironic, since I was supposed to be diving that day and the weather threw too much surge to go out. I woke up this morning headed to the dive shop and picked up some tanks. As I was turning out of the driveway there he comes prancing with a box of dunkin donuts in his right hand and a girl in the left.She might have been an extra on the set of Gossip girl by her looks and apparent age, but Im not going to judge. Im sure she is a perfectly nice girl that actually laughs at his jokes and doesnt question his girlish fear of spiders.
I headed out to Ft. Wetherill, a small cove on the tip of Jamestown. It took approximately 20 minutes to pull 6mm thick neoprine over my not size 2 body. It was there I thought I should come home and blog about this all. I know its not that funny, and Im rambing a lot, but I just wanted to write to get it all out. Diving is like life. You scrape your knuckles and curse the sky trying to wedge your fat rolls into a thick wetsuit. You spend another 20 minutes adding more weights (to get you under the water - like I didnt have enough of my own) and tanks and BCs... you walk ten minutes with 100lbs on your back and wonder why you do this all in the first place. But that is what life is, sometimes you bear the weight weather its in equipment or emotion. But then, you slip into the water, let all the air out of your lungs and sink below. You cant hear a thing, but a dull hum of ocean life. I can scream at the top of my lungs and no one will hear me. Its amazing. I have a framed picture in my living room by an artist Brian Andreas its of an odd looking character and it says "i always like the time before dawn because there is no one around to remind me of who im supposed to be" ... its like that. And, if I could get to 100 feet, the compression of the wetsuit might at least get me to a size 4. But, my hair will always be curly and gangly. I will always just kill the damn spiders myself.
I step out of the water after an hour of swimming around. Peel off that wetsuit and head home. Its been a good day, none-the-less. I spent a year wondering what I could do to be good enough. I dont believe its anything other than plastic surgery can fix. I dont really know where to go from here... other than submerge myself in the ocean to forget all my problems. I know I dont want to spend another year being reminded of what I am not. So fingers crossed for new dive buddies!
That was a morbid ending to a would be humoros blog... so Ill end on this... I had it wrong. Peeling a label off a catus is nothing... compare to knocking that cactus over and trying to replant it! Thank goodness for neoprin scuba gloves!
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