I have always loved reading old diaries of distant lives. Here you can read my ongoing story, a log of riding a log (if you will) with musings, tales, poetry, jargon, secrets, cliches, whatnots and whatever else might pop into my head. So next time you are stuck indoors, pull up a warm chair and read about the simple happenings of my life in the Pacific Ocean.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Those Old Ways

Sometimes, I just want to be cool. Wasn't Junior High, like, forever ago? It has morphed and evolved, become more refined, dignified and nuanced, but it's still there: the the truth-or-dare secret desire to be just plain cool. When I go surfing, I often feel like I'm in Junior High. Sometimes, I am the sixth-grader who can never be good enough or sometimes, I am the eighth-grader, on top of the whole wide world, with dominion over as far as the safety officer will let you go. I have moved past friendship bracelets and tomagotchis (well kinda) on to single fins and surf reports. I don't have to be the best at tetherball but I do have to be the best at crossstepping. I don't chase boys around anymore, but I do cut them off from time to time. Competition, comparison, judgement, stratification, and playground elitism: from homeroom to homebreak. When I get in the water, it is as if I put on my old Adidas with sharpied harts and slip back into being 12. Except now I am supposed to be all grown up.

2 Entries from Amigos:

  1. I hear when you turn 40 you stop caring what people think. I will let you know in 6 years if it is true. The closer I get, the more I can understand why people say that. All I can do is pray that I won't get so wrapped up in what other people think....and wait 6 years.

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  2. It's crazy how lucky we are to be able to escape to a place like the ocean whenever we need to

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