Awesomeness by land

So a while back I was thinking to myself that I would have nothing to blog about cuz I was getting familiar with the island and the boat, which therefore meant that I wouldn't be doing anything stupid anymore. Silly me. I give myself way too much credit. We got back from Vegas Tuesday night around 9:30pm. It was supposed to be 8:30, but we sat on the runway at JFK for over an hour for no reason. Weather was absolutely fine, besides it being freezing cold. No snow, no rain. So I'm stressing out cuz we need to get back before 10 to pick up the dummies from the sitter.

Anyways, we land, get our luggage, pay $500 in duty for all the crap we brought back from the states. I run to the lot to get the car. I'm proud of myself for remembering that the driver's side is on the right. I'm pretty sure I remind myself to drive on the opposite side of the road. I had to have, right? I remembered the whole thing about the steering wheel. I hop in the car. Every thing else is a blur. I'm in a rush to pick up Sandy from arrivals. I go to pull into the first entrance, but it's an exit. Fine, I'll obey the rules. I get to the second entrance, except it's an exit too. I dunno why I didn't just pull in anyways. I NEVER obey traffic signs. There was no one around. So I keep driving. Needless to say, I'm going kinda fast.

All of a sudden I see a row of taxis flying towards me. FUCK ME HARD. I slam on the brakes. The first taxi swerves into the left lane to avoid me. Of course the second taxi doesn't notice my dumb ass til it's too late. He drives his car up the curb but not before swiping the right side of my car. SHIT! There is no worse feeling that immediately after an accident of which you are at fault. Plus there's always the fact that I couldn't drive a mere tenth of a mile without getting into an accident. Or I've become the idiot foreigner who drives on the wrong side of the road. Of course he's upset. He calls the cops. I can freaking see the arrivals area, so I run over to Sandy and get our luggage. First, I move the car back to the proper lane so cars can pass. Guy yells at me for moving the car, so I move it back.

Cops come right as we get back to the car. Cops were cool enough. They let us settle it on our own. Taxi driver wants us to call our insurance to pay for his damages. Easy enough. He goes on to tell us that he's the new mayor of St. George's, the "county" we're in, and that we need to call tomorrow. So you're the mayor but you moonlight as a taxi driver? I assume you're the only honest politician in the world and aren't taking any money under the table? I was gonna make a comment but didn't want to make the situation worse. We're the foreigners here. The driver and cop could be related for all I know. They might throw me in jail and cane me. Kick me out of the country. Who knows. Cop was really cool. At the end, he pulls us aside and tells us to be very careful when driving cuz there's been a lot of bad accidents lately. He was expecting the worst when he got the call. I prolly shoulda told him to be safe too.

Obviously, Sandy drives back home. I'm pretty upset with myself. Feeling like a total loser. Back on the island and get into an accident within 2 minutes. Who else does this happen to?! Every one always says to be careful cuz it's confusing when you're back on the island after driving in the states. I'm feeling completely useless and think I should just go back to the states where I belong.

It was better the next day after I stopped by to talk to the insurance guy. Sounds like they'll cover every thing, and our deductible is only $300. Damage wasn't nearly as bad as I thought. Side mirror is gone, and the window and door are a bit scratched up. But that's about it. And the taxi just had a scratch going along both doors. Plus I'm flying on the scooter. Definitely feel much more comfortable riding that thing. You can weave in and out of traffic, pass slow ppl and avoid traffic much easier if you're driving on the wrong side of the street. I guess the downside is you have a much better chance of being part of the 13 road fatalities this year. Mark my words: no more traffic accidents while I'm on the island.

Dear Bermuda, You suck.

Today is one of those "I hate Bermuda" days. I alternate back and forth. I wonder if this is how I'll always feel coming back from the states. Vegas was awesome, as always. We just spent time hanging with family and friends, shopping, and eating. It felt like we were only there for a day and then it was time to leave. I wish we would have stayed through New Year's :(.

The plan was to get McDonalds the minute we arrived in Philly for our layover on the way to Vegas. Upon arrival, we find out that the McDonald's is all the way in the other concourse and we didn't have enough time before our next flight. So we settled on eating at the food court. I chose Chick-fil-a, which was extremely disappointing. Their waffle fries rule, but their chicken sandwich is dry. Jim chose a philly cheesesteak place. Equally disappointing. The flight to Vegas felt like it took a million years. Note to self: US Air blows. No movie, nothing...for a 5 1/2 hour flight! After we arrived in Vegas, it took a while to get our rental car. Who knew that Vegas is the hot place to be for Christmas? The line for the rental car took like over an hour. Then it was off to Tammy and Victor's place for some hot pot. I usually don't like hot pot but it was delish! I guess I missed Chinese food more than I thought. Christmas day breakfast, lunch and dinner were eaten at home. They were all extremely delicious. I'm still dreaming of the rib roast and I had deep fried turkey for the first time. Yummy....

Other meals of the weekend include THE scrambled egg breakfast with croutons (compliments of Greg's parents) which is my new fav breakfast of all time; Sushi Roku - company was great but food just so so; Olives - disappointing compared to last time; In-n-out - terrific as always; Hot and Juicy – delish but a bit too spicy so I was torn between pain and food bliss; Auntie Anne’s almond pretzel – yummmm…I even finally found a McDonald’s at JFK on the way back to Bermuda but I surprisingly didn’t feel like eating McDonald’s. I just had a few of Jim’s fries and got the Chinese food instead.

The flight back to Bermuda was uneventful. After arriving with our 4 checked bags (all at right around 50 lbs) and 4 carry-ons, I had Jim go get the car from the long term parking. It’s about 0.25 miles from the airport. I waited outside in the freezing cold for over 15 minutes before I get a call from him saying he’s been in an accident with some taxi. An accident in like 0.25 miles?! Ugh. So I walk over to the accident (yes, it was that close). The police come and are like “okay, now you guys go settle this between yourselves and decide what you’d like to do.” Really?! My first thought is that we’re going to have to throw down and brawl on the side of the street. Instead we go talk to the taxi driver, who claims he’s the mayor of one of the parishes (why the mayor is also a taxi driver is beyond me). We decide I’ll call my insurance and have them handle it in the morning (since it’s like 11pm). The police write up the report and we’re off. Lessons learned from the accident: 1.Husband is not allowed to drive the car anymore. 2. Ex-pats have no rights whatsoever in Bermuda. I think that no matter whose fault the accident is, the citizen will always win. 3. Bermuda sucks.

When we get home, we notice the wind was so strong that it blew our scooter over and now it’s just laying on the road. I swear there was rust on the scooter too. Who knows if the thing will even start anymore. And the house smells like mold. And it’s like 55 degrees but the wind makes it feel like 30 degrees. Dear Bermuda, today I hate you.

Vegas!

Flying out to Vegas in a couple hours. I just ate breakfast/lunch and weighed myself afterwards. 172.4 lbs, 11.1% body fat. We'll see how much weight I gain in the next six days. The dog sitter came by this morning to pick up the dummies. I must say that I am surprisingly pretty sad. This will be the first Christmas away from them. So sad. Looks like this house husband shit's turned me into a complete pussy. I'll just hafta eat my way to happiness. We don't land until late. Flying to the west coast from Bermuda is a killer, all-day event. Hopefully there'll still be places open to eat when we land. McDonald's in PHL fo shizzle. Fish Filet with extra tartar and Quarter Pounder with cheese, here I come! Happy holidays!

The beginning of the end

We leave for Vegas tomorrow to spend Christmas with Tammy, Victor, Kira and company. This will be the first trip back to the states since we moved out here. Pretty exciting. It honestly doesn't feel like the holidays here. Sandy didn't realize it was Thanksgiving week until I suggested we buy a turkey. Christmas definitely doesn't feel like it's two days away. I guess the snow really does make a difference.

The primary focus of this trip, besides hanging out with family of course, is to stuff my face with all the food I have missed these past 7 weeks. On the list, in no particular order:

- Bellagio buffet
- Bomb ass sushi
- Barely cooked steak and foie gras
- Hot and Juicy
- Hooters
- Guacamole from that one restaurant in the Venetian
- Maybe the beef noodle soup place in the Venetian
- Taiwanese breakfast

The last two aren't that important anymore cuz we're going to Taiwan in February. Sandy's only going for a couple days, but I'll be there for almost the entire month. This is extremely bad news. While I cannot wait for all the food, I am extremely nervous about all the weight I'm going to gain. Last year, we were there for less than two weeks. I gained 12 freakin pounds! That's like a pound a day! I came back with a freaking gut. It was both shocking and disgusting. I had my hand on my belt or something, felt something weird sticking out, looked down and was shocked to see this thing protruding out of my stomach. I was seriously revolted. I've been trying to get myself into shape so that it won't be as bad when I eat my way out of shape for an entire month. It'll be March when I get back, which is when beach weather starts. And we have all our new snorkel and wakeboarding gear waiting for us at Casa de Sun. It has not been going well. I'm just too lazy out here. Have not worked out at all this week. Can't wait to eat tho!

Sandy decided today that she wants to board, so we'll be going to Vermont the second weekend in January for a lil snow. I don't think there's really much to eat out there. But we will be back in the good ol Chi the weekend of 1/29. We're only staying for two nights before we fly out to Taiwan, but we'll definitely be eating

- Wildfire
- Chicago Pizza and Oven Grinder
- Portillo's
- and if we can fit it in: gyros, deep dish pizza (surprisngly haven't really been craving it), Korean bbq, Culvers and The Works.

It's gonna be two months of gluttony! Happy holidays! Eat and be merry!

I gave the dummies baths today. That's it. That's all I did today. It's a Monday.

Cheapskate

Every one knows that I'm cheap. I don't like calling it cheap cuz it has a negative connotation to it. It's more of being frugal or thrifty. I like to say I'm a conservationist. I'll drop ridiculous money on electronics and cool stuff, but I don't like spending money on stuff we don't need or using more than what's required. Before we got the iPhone, Sandy and I both bought the same phone. It had a QWERTY keyboard. Only reason you'd need a QWERTY keyboard on your cellphone is so that you can type faster. The only time you'd need to type is to text. Well, I don't like texting. Not only does it take away the whole human element of actually talking to someone, it costs money. They want you to pay extra to buy a text plan. That's retarded. I'm not going to spend money to text people when I can just call them for no extra charge. Of course, ppl would always text me...even after I repeatedly yelled at them for costing me 5 cents. And I'd always get mad when Sandy would go over her text limit. Even when we got the iPhone, I refused to get a text plan. I don't think you can call that being cheap cuz iPhones are definitely not cheap. Nor is the data plan, but I don't mind cuz I actually use it.

I'm like this cuz I was raised this way. My mom was overly cautious when it came to money. She prolly got it from my grandmother. There was this one time, way back when you lived in Houston, we had a bag of chips. I guess it was past the "Sell by" date, cuz my mom threw it out. I was crying about how she was wasting the chips. So when she left the kitchen, I started eating the chips out of the garbage...just the ones that were still in the bag! She came in and freaked out. Now that I think about it, it doesn't make any sense cuz my mom always eats shit that's overdue or expired. Cam and I would yell at her all the time. Weird.

When my uncle lived with us, he was extremely liberal with the toilet paper. He'd wipe or blow his nose once and just chuck it. I used to go into his bathroom and see the entire garbage filled with toilet paper. So I'd freakin take them out and use them! Like, if I had a cold, I'd use his old, nasty, used toilet paper and blow my nose with it. Sandy's that way too, tho I'm not going to fish that shit outta the toilet. And she won't change her ways no matter how much I nag. You can be clean w/o using up half the roll yo. And it's the really nice and soft double layer stuff. I, myself, am a folder. I'm like origami master with that shit.

I turn off the water in the shower when I'm putting on shampoo and soap. I definitely don't leave the water running when I'm brushing my teeth, washing my hands or doing the dishes. Drives me crazy when I see ppl doing it. If it were my choice, we wouldn't eat out unless there was no food in the fridge. But of course Sandy would cry. She thinks she's above leftovers. I definitely didn't think we needed all new furniture for Bermuda, but I didn't mind buying a new TV. It's weird. I'm the exact opposite when it comes to big purchases. I want the biggest and best. I cut my own hair, but that's also cuz I do a better job. Who cares what the back looks like...I don't hafta look at it. I'm a recycling superfreak. I chase after Sandy, unplugging all the chargers she's not using. To this day, I don't wash my clothes after each time I wear them. I won't wash them until they start to smell. I go thru and smell all my clothes in the closet when it's laundry day. In high school, I didn't want the ass of my jeans to get worn out, so, when I was at home, I'd pull my pants down and only sit in my underwear. Family prolly thought I was a freak. When I was in high school, I'd write down what shirt I wore to school every day on a calendar so I wouldn't repeat until I'd worn every thing else in my closet. That might be more cuz I happened to wear the same tshirt from Kohl's as this super popular kid one day. People were making comments and he said, "That's cuz he wears the same clothes every day." So sad.

There's a famous story of when I was in kindergarten. We had gone out to buy groceries the night before. I specifically remember my mom buying Kraft cheese slices for my lunch the next day. Back then I'd eat the cheese by itself. Fold it up a couple times. We ate out on the deck at school. That day, I got into a fight with a kid. That bastard took my slice of cheese and dropped it thru the cracks in the deck! I freaked out and started crying. Teachers ran over, thinking something crazy had happened. "My mom bought me that cheese!" was all I could say. I cried the entire lunch period and prolly the rest of the day. Don't worry tho, I got my revenge. The next day, I snuck into the cubbies, found that punk's lunch box, took his granola bar and threw that shit down the deck too. At lunch, he was like..."I know my mom packed me a granola bar. I don't know what happened to it." Now that was awesome. I while later, I took his stormtrooper too. Payback with interest.

My point? We bought some yogurt a while back. It was a ways back cuz they say "Sell by Dec 5". Guess what I've been eating these past two days for breakfast? We had 4 in the fridge. Sandy obviously won't touch them. I've never worked at a processing plant or grocery store, but I'm pretty sure you have no more than a week from that "sell by" date before it goes bad. When we first got to the island, we bought some oranges. This is the first week of November. Sandy asked me to clean out the fridge on Monday and throw out all the old food. Well, the oranges were still there. Yes, I moved them from the hotel to the house. They weren't powdery black or anything (we've had those many times back in the states), but there some black spots. Definitely very soft. I huddled over the sink like an Ethiopian and ate all four of those bad boys. Wasn't sour or anything. If you saw how expensive groceries here were, you'd do the same. Each yogurt was like $1.36. That's over $5 I saved. My stomach wasn't feeling so hot afterwards, but I dunno if it was from the food or the pepperoni pizza layered with crushed red peppers. Either way, it was worth it.

Inspired

After finding out that Julie and Julia was already out on DVD (thanks Mark! Jim thanks you too), I went and rented it. She has inspired me to keep the blog alive despite the lack of acknowledgement of the blog on the part of the readers. Perhaps I'll make the blog searchable by google so that I can make some new friends :)

I've been hearing about all this cold weather that you've been getting back in the states. We're getting some of that too! Instead of the 78 degrees I'm used to, it was like 65 over the weekend. Talk about cold front! I was told before I moved here not to become one of those people that rubs in the fact that I live on an island. So I've decided to devote this entry to the top 10 reasons that Chicago is cooler than Bermuda.

1. Chicago really is cooler. Literally. Like 75 degrees cooler.

2. I'll occasionally see "68 degrees" on the forecast and freak out because it's not the 75 degrees I'm used to seeing every single day. Then I realize that 68 degrees is actually the low. This small swing in temperature can be quite confusing at first glance. This was never an issue in Chicago when the high and low for the day could be separated by 20+ degrees.

3. Enough about the weather, Bermuda stinks. Everything has a nasty, stinky, pungent mold smell. Sometimes you won't realize it because you get used to it. Then you'll get a wiff of the stink as you turn your head and want to throw up. This is particularly hazardous when you are at a restaurant. Although, it could be seen as a positive if you are trying to lose weight since you will lose your appetite.

4. Snowboarding is impossible. When in Chicago, you can hop in the car and drive up to scenic Wisconsin. In Bermuda, you can scatter some cotton all over the backyard and throw your board on top of it. It doesn't quite have the same effect though.

5. Why is Bermuda so expensive? A 40 pint dehumidifier should not cost $500. A used dehumidifier from the 1800s should not cost $150. A Chevy Spark should not cost as much as a BMW. Simple economics.

6. I miss chicken nuggets from McDonalds. Those of you that know how much I love chicken nuggets understand the enormity of this situation.

7. Full service gas station pumps means that someone must pump your gas for you. This means you are left with roughly 3-5 minutes where you are obligated to talk to the guy pumping the gas. Particularly awkward when the guy doesn't understand how you can possibly not have an accent and speak perfect English, even if you spent your entire life in the US.

8. Tree frogs dying on your screen door and getting stuck on the screen = bad. Enough said.

9. You know that feeling in the summer time when you are looking out of the window wishing that you were outside instead of wasting your life away at your desk? Now imagine having that feeling every single day.

10. Target. Even though I went there maybe once every 2 months back home, I want to cry when the commercials come on (yes, we get Target commercials because I'm pretty sure they just steal the TV signal from the states). The other day I went to pick up a filing cabinet from some guy that is moving back to the states. I asked why he was moving back. His exact words..."I miss Walmart."

So there you have it folks...living on an island is not just fun and games. In other news, I can't believe that Christmas has snuck up on us so soon! I didn't even realize it was coming up until Jim told me we were leaving for Vegas in 1 1/2 weeks.  We have no Christmas decorations up and the only Christmas-y thing we've done this year is go to the Christmas boat parade. Our first trip off the island! We'll also be back in Chicago at the end of January, then off to Taiwan. Hope we get to see you when we're back!

Lobster Diving

For those of you wondering why Sandy doesn't post anymore, she's boycotting cuz she doesn't think anyone reads her blogs cuz no one comments. Yes, she is very sensitive like that. I think she's emailing her new blog directly to X and Giraffe, whose niceness extends to commenting. If you're gonna take the time to read the blog, would it kill you to spend an extra 10 seconds acknowledging the fact that you read it?

One of the many things I was exciting about when coming here was lobster diving. Sandy would tell me how her boss did it all the time and was really good. He'd catch so many that his family is now sick of lobsters and he just gives them away. How cool is that? Catching your own lobster. So last Sunday, after a month of being on the island, Sandy's boss finally invites me out. Sweet! One problem: my body's starting to grow a rash. Putting on a tight wetsuit is probably not the best thing for a new, developing rash. But I don't want to wait another month or more to lobster dive. If you know me, my skin is like rash city. Whenever I get a rash, it's no joke. We're talking massive creep (Starcraft reference) throughout my entire body. I noticed it Saturday after we got back from the holiday party. My right torso had big red chunks, but it wasn't crazy bad. Not the normal small, red dots. By the time I woke up Sunday tho, it had spread along my side and up to my shoulder. Oh well, whatever. Can't pass up a chance to go lobster diving. It's going to be wicked fun.

Sandy's boss picks me and this other guy up at the dock. I borrow his mask, snorkel, gloves, fins and lobster catcher thing. It's basically a metal stick with rope at the end. You get the rope thru the lobster's tail and pull. Easy enuff. We drive out to this reef he says is money. Aight, we all jump in. I haven't snorkeled in years, especially not when there's waves. I'm freaking swallowing salt water left and right. I start freaking out and flailing my arms like Sandy without a life jacket. Luckily the two other guys are already out doing their thing, so they don't see the side show I got going on over here. Her boss is a seasoned pro and the other guy has gone out 9 times and caught a lobster his first time. Plus he's got all this fancy equipment. I'm a noob who's about to drown. Breathing underwater isn't normal. It just feels weird. Every time I put my head down, the waves basically fill my snorkel with water, I choke on sea water, panic cuz I can't breathe and throw my head up out of the water and fling off my mask. I dunno how I'm able to hold onto my lobster catcher thing through all this. To make matters worse, the strap to one of my fins is broken, so my fin keeps falling off. It takes all my focus just to catch it before it sinks to the bottom of the ocean. So for the first 30 minutes, I'm pretty much just trying not to drown and see if I can get drunk off salt water. Instead of lobster diving, I'm fin diving. Loads of fun. In between trying not to die, I try putting my head underwater so I don't look like the total ass that I am, in case these two guys happen to look up and see my two legs (one with a fin) helplessly kicking around. It's like hide and go seek, snorkel style. Any time I see one of them come to the surface, I immediately put my head down and pretend like I'm doing something productive. I see him come up with a lobster. Sweet. Turns out it was just smaller than requirement. If I knew him better, I woulda just told him to take it.

I'm ecstatic when I see these guys finally get back on the boat. But we just head on to the next reef. Sweet. I finally start to get a hang of the whole breathing with the snorkel thing. Too bad that's not the point of lobster diving. Lobster diving sounds easy enough. You dive down, find a lobster, catch it and eat. Well, if you can't dive down, you really aren't gonna catch any lobster. Each time I try diving, I get about 3 feet before the pressure makes it feels like my head is about to explode. Normally when you're in an airplane or going up an elevator, you just swallow or something. Doesn't quite work for me when I'm underwater. It does absolutely nothing. Not to mention the fact that I can't even dive. It's not like you're jumping from the boat. You're already in the water. Every time I try and dive, my head basically goes underwater and my legs go in the air. I can only imagine how this looks. It's like that mercury chicken thing back in chemistry class. We end up going to 4 or 5 reefs. The whole time I'm just swimming around, trying to act like I'm doing anything but just swimming around. I don't see a single lobster. Don't really know how you can when you're just up on the surface of the water. Sandy's boss catches a big enuff lobster, which I don't even see cuz I'm off in my own world.

So last post, I was talking about how my rash spread after lobster diving. When I got home, it was pretty much all over my thighs. I'm pretty sure it's cuz I peed in my wetsuit when I was out in the water. I tried going back on the boat and letting it out thru my pant leg, but I guess it had already swirled around and did its thing by then. Seriously tho, what do divers do when they hafta pee?! Astronauts do it! So out of the three times I've used my wetsuit, it's kept out water and kept in sweat and urine. I'm assuming that's why they call it a wetsuit. Anyways, so that I'm much more prepared next time I go out, I've bought all this nifty gear online. Cuz, like golf, new and expensive equipment will automatically guarantee positive results.

More awesomeness

My boating skillz are awesome. Pure awesome. I may write a book. So we planned to take some of Sandy's coworkers out on the boat last Saturday. This means I hafta get the boat first, which has been moored. I have Sandy drive me and the kayak out to the marina by our place. I'm sitting in the passenger seat, holding onto the kayak handle for dear life as it's hanging halfway out the back of our Chevy Spark. We get to the marina, and I decide to take a shortcut down the hill to the water instead of walking all the way around to the dock. I kayak out to the boat easily enough. I tie the kayak to the boat, cuz I don't want the kayak to drift away, and undo the mooring. I reach into my pocket for the key to star the boat...except the boat key's sitting back on the kitchen counter AT FUGGIN HOME! Awesome. What good does it do to tie the kayak to the boat if the freakin boat floats away!? At least I'll know where my kayak is if I ever get my boat back. Now I understand why the guy we bought the boat from said to never undo the mooring unless the boat was on. Makes sense...as a couple tons of dead weight starts to drift. So now I'm freaking out cuz I'm on a kayak, trying to hold onto a boat that's about to play pinball with the other hundred boats in the harbor. I try putting the mooring back on the boat, which doesn't exactly work cuz the mooring's so heavy that it fills my kayak up with water. Awesome, now I'm going to drown in a kayak while my boat drifts off to sea. I wonder, if I float to the bottom of the harbor while still holding on to the boat, would that be enough weight to keep the boat still? Lots of thoughts are running through my head, one being the fact that they're gonna confiscate the boat cuz I'm too awesome. By the time I gather my senses, the boat has already drifted 20+ yards from the mooring and awfully close to another boat. What the hell do I do now?! Do I yell at the guy with the boat at the marina to come help me out? Do I just jump off and pretend like it's not my boat? Did Sandy buy enough idiot insurance? I think quick, which isn't quick at all cuz the boat has already drifted 20+ yards! I have no choice but to take off my shirt, jump in the water and try and push the boat back to the mooring. Pushing obviously isn't going to do jack, so I start pulling it. And of course a marina is busy, so there's people on land looking, pointing, and I'm sure laughing. Luckily I worked out during the week cuz I'm able to get the boat back to the mooring. Sandy drops off the keys and all is well. The actual boat ride was pretty nice. Thank gawd her coworkers weren't around to watch me demonstrate my mooring expertise. We saw a shipwreck, fed Doritos to fish and anchored by this lil island beach and drank Sandy's extremely potent black and cokes. And I dropped off our guests and re-moor the boat with no more drama.

However, somewhere along the way that day, I ended up getting a rash. It started out as a lil speck on my chest and proceeded to spread all over my entire body by Sunday night. Awesome. The doctor says it could be poison ivy, which I probably got from that shortcut at the marina. Or it could have been from the nasty chain on the mooring as I was clutching it for dear life. I have a theory on how the rash spread so quickly, but I'll save that gem for another day.

Awesomeness

Yesterday was the defining day of my month-long adventure in Bermuda. So we bought the boat last week, but we didn't have a mooring yet to keep it. The guy took us out on Sunday to show us the ropes, and we left it on his mooring, which is not close to our house or harbor. Finally found and decided on a mooring. Sandy's been nagging me about being useless and not doing anything, so I decided I needed to get this boat thing taken care of pronto. Incidentally, I haven't been doing nothing. We got a gym membership this week, so I've worked out two days in a row now. I actually run to the gym, work out and try to run back. Got my scooter license on Monday too, so I finally got rid of that stupid $16/day scooter.

So yesterday afternoon, after flip-flopping between playing Arkham Asylum and getting the boat, I finally decide I need to do something productive before the week's over. The thing about moorings is you hafta get to your boat, which is out in the water already. How do you get to your boat? Normally you'd use a boat or kayak, but since the boat's not at our mooring...I hafta swim. Water's not ice-cold or anything, but still. So I go put on X's (this isn't to protect his identity. His name really is X. He's just that awesome.) wicked wetsuit. Why not? Thing is a lil uncomfortable. I'm adjusting this thing like a baseball player. I dunno how gymnasts and anyone else who has to wear tight stuff in that area does it. So I was gonna take the scooter, until I go outside and notice that the scooter isn't there! Awesome. Sandy took it to the ferry. I apparently didn't notice the two times I passed by the area. The ferry is just up the road from where I worked out, so I coulda just grabbed it after I worked out...if I wasn't such an idiot. I debate whether to run and go get it, but I'm too tired. So let's go catch the bus to get to the boat. I've used this bus before, but apparently I'm a bigger idiot than I thought cuz it took the wrong route. So I get off at the fork in the road. At this point I'm halfway between home and boat....in a freaking wetsuit but not in the water! You must realize that every thing I'm doing is so that I'm not a useless househusband. So of course I'm going to go get the boat. How am I going to explain my day to the wife if I don't have a boat to show for it? "Yeah, I was just trying to start my wetsuit modeling career." It's already past 3, and it gets dark around 5:30 here. I decide to run, even tho I'm already really tired. Again, I'm in a freaking wetsuit! And I have sandals on! Of course I don't bother to tighten my sandals (cuz that would take up valuable time), so my feet are going in one direction and my sandals are going in another. If you've never experienced the joy of running in a wetsuit, let me try and paint a picture for you: it sucks. I dunno what idiot invented tampons or how girls can use them cuz I was feeling extremely awkward...and there wasn't even any significant penetration. I'm on the freaking street in my freaking wetsuit, trying to run in loose sandals, trying to look serious (again, in a freaking wetsuit), not knowing whether to laugh cuz I'm getting my balls tickled and salad tossed AT THE SAME TIME, cry cuz I am the biggest moron on the island or hide somewhere and enjoy these sensations lost on a married man. Let's not forget that I've already worked out today, so I'm toggling back and forth between running and walking, which I'm sure looks mad cool to other people on the street. Another perk of having a wetsuit is that it keeps water out. By whatever mathematical theory, that also means it'll keep water in! In this case, it's sweat. Perfect. Also realize that I have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA WHERE I AM OR WHERE THE BOAT IS! I could be miles away. Finally I see the harbor and the boat. I take a shortcut down the embankment. Of course I slip and land on my ass. And I just happened to pick out the primo spot next to some sewer pipe that's spitting out water that I'm sure isn't drinkable. I get in the water. Before I get in the water, I decide I need to tighten my sandals so I don't lose them in the water. Awesome. It's not that cold. The boat's maybe 50 yards out? I can swim this man. I start swimming. I make it maybe...10 yards? Holy shit, swimming is no joke! Before you all crack jokes, remember that I worked out two days in a row after having been off almost a year. And I woke up at like 6:30. I'm sore and tired. So am I gonna drown 40 yards from my boat?! I end up on my back, staring up at God, asking him what I've done to deserve such an awesome experience. I'm too tired to even backstroke. It's like making midget snow angels. I end up maybe 10 yards from the boat. Surely I can swim to it now, end strong. Nope. Finally reach the boat. I start it fine, but of course I end up finding the only shallow water in the entire harbor. If you're familiar with boats, how bad is it if your motor stops cuz you run it aground...twice? That's your queue, X.

I get out of the harbor and I'm cruising. Having a boat is nice. Then saltwater starts splashing all up in my face. I dunno if I was driving too fast or in the wrong direction of the waves cuz water was slapping me left and right. It's getting into my eyes. I can't see. I can't even wipe my face off cuz my hands and arms are wet too and, anytime you're able to clear your eyes, more water splashes. Landmarks when you're on a boat look nothing like when you're on land. Nothing looks familiar. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that there's more than one row of buildings along a road. I dunno. I'm trying to find our house, or anything within a 5 mile radius of our house. NOTHING LOOKS FAMILIAR! I have absolutely no idea where I am. This wouldn't be a huge problem...except for the fact that the boat is out of gas and the sun is setting. Yes, the guy left as little gas in the tank as possible. Kinda like when you're renting a car and pre-paid for gas. Or when you're selling a car, except if you're Sandy. Then you turn down the $200 they offer you for driving out of your way to meet them. I've gone pretty far, the gas gauge stick is down at the very bottom and I have no idea where I am. I figure I should be pretty close, but seriously recognize NOTHING! I'm freaking lost in the middle of the ocean, with no boats around. I pass a beach resort, which I think is past our house. WTF?! Did I somehow miss it? I do not wanna die. So I turn around, and cruise along the coast, looking for absolutely anybody I can ask for directions. Not a soul in sight. I decide I should double back and make sure I'm not going in the wrong direction and die. Of course I see nobody and I run aground again! I end up having to jump out of the boat and pushing it back to deeper waters. I'm sure no one's around to talk to but every one's at their windows or safe enough distance away to laugh at me without me hearing. Or I just can't hear it above my own head repeatedly telling myself how awesome I am. After circling around a lil bit, I decide I haven't passed our house again. Let's trek on. This entire time I"m staring at the gas gauge, praying I don't run out of gas. Finally after what feels like forever, I find our house and harbor. Time to go get gas. That part was actually not difficult, if you don't count me panicking in the harbor in the middle of dozens of boats. I gotta find enough space to put the boat in neutral, tie the floaty things to the side of the boat, put the boat back into gear cuz I'm drifting too close to a boat and repeat. While I'm fumbling around, this guy in a lil fishing boat cruises right by me. He's nice enuff to wave. I'm able to dock fine. I thought the attendants help you tie up and stuff, but I guess they want me to enjoy my awesome day. I'm sure they enjoyed watching me helplessly try to wrap the rope around those peg things on land. Filling up the tank cost $177, which I don't think is that bad at all. If I'm able to go 100 miles on empty, a full tank should last quite a while. The mooring we want is right by the gas station, but we haven't paid for the mooring yet. And I don't have a boat to get to shore, which means I'd hafta swim again...this time in front of a lot of people. No thanks. So I take the boat to the pier by our house. That was a lil more difficult. I park fine the first time, but as I'm tying to front of the boat to the pier, the back drifts away, to the point where the boat is perpendicular to the pier. I'm good enough at math to know this is no bueno. Untie the rope and try it again. It takes like 5 tries. I'm either too close or too far. Finally able to tie the boat up, just before it gets completely dark. The awesomeness continues today when I get the boat on the mooring and figure out how to get me back on land without having to swim in front of every one.