I received a text from a friend yesterday that makes it ever so clear you have been misdirected in your thinking. The text: “Relax, Wen! Nothing in the ocean wants to eat a skinny girl!”
Uh huh. Let us examine history, shall we?
20 or so odd years ago I went to Cancun with Jennifer W. In an effort to rid myself of my shark fears, I went into a “protected” area with a shark dude and a nurse shark. Nurse sharks have no teeth. Plus they’re nurses. What could go wrong? Just as the photo of me holding the shark was being snapped, the shark freaked the heck out, swam off, did that horrifying circle thing, and then RAMMED ME. I was bruised from my knee to my hip for the rest of that rum soaked trip.
7 years ago (and no longer rum soaked because of that whole sobriety thing that gets in the way of such things), I went to Cape Cod with Shawn. After a solid hour of him convincing me I would be fine, I stomped on into the ocean. Where I was promptly stung by a jellyfish.
And so it is that we have come to today. And for my last act of fun I shall hike to a waterfall, reflect upon the beauty of Hawaii, tell my husband that I love him and then hike down to my doom. But not before being all badass and eating a dessert. Because I have promised my husband to snorkel this afternoon. And I may be skinny, but trust me, the ocean thinks I’m a delectable little morsel. I have loved you all.