Tuesday, December 19, 2006

In which I write about nothing

Hi!
I realize that probably no one will read this (with such an exciting title, how could you not?), especially since my most devoted readers are either with me or will be very shortly (yaay!). But for some reason I feel the need to update the random friends who occasionally tell me that they read what I write. Hi guys!

So, after I think 21 total hours in the air in like four days, I'm in Atlanta. (That was Cairns to Sydney, Sydney to LA, and LA to Atlanta.) And it's warm! I mean not like Cairns oh-my-god-it's-three-in-the-morning, -how-is-the-kitchen-this-hot warm, but hey-it's-december-and-i-don't-mind -being-outside-in-a-long-sleeved-t-shirt warm. Which I think converts to about 72 farenheit. Also, farenheit is hard to spell. Is that right? I should look it up, since I am (clearly) on my computer right now. Also, this is turning out to be a very weird post. But I was tired of looking at the picture of Nathan grabbing Al's nipple, and, as previously stated, no one will read this anyway.

Yeah. So. Sydney was nice, the weather was terrible as always because Sydney hates us. But we did some shopping and got some massages, which were Jon and my Christmas presents to each other. I have now introduced him to the wonderful world of spas and massages. I was reflecting during my massage, because they asked me if I had ever had one before, on how many massages I've actually had. The answer is dozens. Not sure quite how many dozens, but a lot. Seriously. My family is just a massage family. Some families hike on vacation. Some golf. Some ski. We get massages. Pretty much anywhere. I've had massages in obvious places like Atlanta and LA, but also less obvious ones like Tahiti and Africa. It's also a favorite gift if we run out of ideas. I decided during my masssage that I've probably averaged at least two a year since I was like eight. Seriously, Jenny and I would split an hour massage between the two of us, because how much eight-year-old is really there for them to rub? And how much tension could we possibly have had? And over the last few years, it's been way more than that. I think I had four in 2006. Not counting physical therapy. Wait, no. Five.

Anyway, important stuff.

So I made it back, saw some friends in LA, and arrived just in time to sing Handel's Messiah at Westminster, which was... a little weak. But fun. And the Ensemble reunion concert, which is also fun, and almost made me cry when George directed And So it Goes. (Now all the random people I talked about earlier are wishing they hadn't actually read this post.) So friends are good, seeing some family has been good, seeing other family has been lots of drama, but overall it's been fun. I taught about forty Trinity 6th graders 45-minutes worth of the coolest marine biology stuff I could think of, which was actually a lot of fun. Looking forward to leaving for Key West on the 25th.

Okay, that's it! Sorry! I'll try to stay coherent in the future. (And include pictures.) Merry Christmas eve eve eve eve eve eve!

Friday, December 08, 2006

What I'll miss


They're obnoxious and obscene and give me a hard time all day long, but I will definitely miss the crazy boys that I work with.



And the diving. I'll miss that too.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Don't ever stop working for Tusa

Seriously. Don't ever stop working for Tusa, if you start. Because it is horribly unpleasant.

So today was my last day of work. Which was great! (mostly.) Ben almost let me do whatever I want, which means he told me I was taking certified divers, then asked me what I wanted to do (which was taking certified divers), then told me I was doing snorkellers, which kind of annoyed me. I mean it was my last day working as a dive instructor, so I wanted to dive. So he let me take a few intros, which was not my favorite idea, but it was alright. Anyway, the day went alright (aside from my intros not swimming for themselves, so I had to swim for them, and one of the boat's engines dying, which really had nothing to do with me, but meant that we were late getting in.)

So at the end of your last day with Tusa, it is customary to be thrown into the marina. The marina is where we (and the other 50 or so boats that run out of Cairns) dump all of our nasty vacuum cleaner water, and our soapy scrubbing water, and pretty much anything gross from the boat that is somewhere near biodegradable. So I tried to argue that since I'm coming back, it wasn't really my last day (which, if I haven't said it officially, we are coming back. Probably in mid-February.) Ben said that didn't count, so I knew I was going in. Last week, Miho was thrown in from the dock, which is what I was expecting. But no, at the end of cleaning, Ben called me up to the upper deck, which is probably eight feet above the lower deck, which is a good six or seven feet above the water, so lets call it a zillion feet up, and he and Al threw me off. Unfortunately, I landed on my face. It looked something like this:


Notice all the people laughing at me. So there would be a picture, and lots of pictures of me and people I work with, if my camera wasn't out of batteries. Oh well. Good thing I'm such an amazing artist. So yes, face first into the water. Everything went white, then everything went nasty brown. My contacts got washed out. I came up and apparently had a nosebleed. I hit the water hard! (Note for concerned family members: it wasn't that hard. I'm totally okay.) Seriously, I am alright. It kind of knocked the wind out of me, and was definitely embarrassing, and the contacts and nosebleed stuff is true, but I'll live. People bought me beers and took good care of me afterwards. And now I know, come April when I quit again, that I should just jump into the marina myself and spare everyone the trouble.