I have a HUGE perma-grin on my saltified face, and I keep making hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee-hee sounds. 7 hees each outburst. and then replant the permagrin. I had to find a computer to tell you. I may never come back at all. I'm already in heaven without any of the trouble of dying.
Which is to say, HOLY CRAP. A life without surfing is no life at all.
I just spent the better part of this sunny warm beautiful day falling off a 9' longboard "foamie" (designed not to hurt newbies) with a pro instructor. Seriously. She is even in the magazines!! I got better and better consistently, so I actually rode (in a fashion) a few waves in without falling -for some number of seconds.
I just kicked my own butt this morning, and made the appointment before thinking too hard. Yup, hand hurt, yup, leg hurt, but- it wasn't even cold with the super 5mm wetsuit on. I didn't feel the cold water at all. HA.
My instructor told me (and I seriously quote), "dude, you're lak, defin-ahtely the most stoked student Ah've ever had!" Which does not equal talent, but it does indicate fun level. I'm doing this 'til I run out of money or get eaten by a shark.
No- there are no pics of me surfing (hard to do...), but here are some of the scenery, and my feet:
In better attitude about locals news- I met some cool folks on yesterday's kayak trip (Meares island is humbling in the ancientness and quiet of the old-growth), and some fun girl-gang members who I will hook up with for tonight's film-fest movie- What the #$*! do We (K)now?, and I don't know- maybe it just takes a few days to get into the groove of a place.
Here are the Meare's Island pics:
On a more reflective note, I just finished Miriam Toews A Complicated Kindness this morning, as my coffee cooled down and the last embers of my morning fire died. It starts out very high-school note/13 year old cynic style, but morphs into a work of real beauty. Totally recommended for those of us who have ever felt like an oddball with crazy urges and who may still possibly feel like a goofy adolescent.
