PlazaJen: Passion Knit

Several years ago, Shelley, Meredith & I took a trip to Puerto Vallarta. It was a 4-night cheapy FunJet vacation, and it was not only exactly what we needed at the time, but man, we got some FUN-NY stories out of the trip. You can't go wrong with an all-inclusive resort & girlfriends - even if the "resort" is not top-of-the-line. I guess you CAN go wrong, but we managed to have a good time, if not a luxurious experience.

First day, we got in, and decided to immediately hit the ocean. Shelley (wisely) decided to stay under a thatched hut & fight off the peddlers, while Meredith & I grabbed foam boards & body surfed. That was all well & good, my first time doing it, and it was swell until I headed back to shore.

SLAM!

I didn't even know what had hit me, at first. A whale? A schooner? A cannonball? Oh, that's a WAVE. Well, I struggled to the surface, dimly aware that my nerve endings were SHRIEKING at me from my knee/shin area, having landed in the large shell line under the water & received numerous cuts, all of which were awash in salt water. Unfortunately, the shrieks were being obscured by the fact I had ocean water in my nose, ears, eyes, mouth & windpipe. I spluttered and coughed and shook my head & tried to spot Shelley on the shore, to walk towards her. As I finally regained my balance, struggling against the receding water -

SLAM!

And we're under water again, and again into the sharp little shells. OK. Now I am PISSED. PISSED OFF. My sunglasses are gone, I have sand packed up my ass, cuts on my legs, salt in my eyes, and this fucking ocean isn't letting go of me. I felt a surge of anger and furious determination pour out of me (along with some bits of the ocean), and I remember thinking, "WELL! This is NOT FUN, motherfuckin' ocean, I am getting OUT." And I did, and found my sunglasses, and yet, I know I never quite got ALL the sand out of my nooks and crannies on that trip.