Top 13 of 2013, Day #6: notfunnotfunnotfun

Day #6: May 3, 2013

"NotfunnotfunnotfunnotfunnotfunNOTFUNNOTFUNNOTFUNnotfunNOTfunNOTfunNOTfun..."

I think you get the picture.

Calm before the storm

For the most part, May 3, 2013 actually WAS fun. For the most part, I spent it on a beach, reading a favorite classic, actually RELAXING for the first time in months.

For the most part.

But there was one part, one part in which I was positive I was both going to die and SUFFER doing it. That part wasn't fun.

And it was my MOTHER'S fault.

You know, the same mom that I toasted to just a few blogs ago for sharing my birthday in Disney World with me? Yeah, that one.

The woman flat out tried to drown me.

Picture this: We - my sister Tracey, my mom, and I - are in Aruba, enjoying the sun and the sand. It's Aruba. It's paradise. The sun is high, the water is clear, and the sand is warm. But do you think that was enough for my mother? Do you think she could be content just napping in the sun? Do you think she could enjoy letting the waves gently splash against her legs? Do you think she could just let ME read in peace?

The answer is no. No, she could not.

No, MY mother, who doesn't like ANYTHING that moves quickly that isn't a car, who hasn't stuck more than a toe in our pool since the 80's, who doesn't even take showers because she doesn't like water on her head (she washes her hair in the sink), decides that she wants to go on the SUPER MARBLE.

We watched people bounce around the sea for an entire day, figuring she'd change her mind.

She didn't. She wanted to do it, and, because we are obedient children, Tracey and I agreed. Well, not so much agreed. We just didn't feel like there was much of a choice.

Now, there are some things you should know about me if you don't already.

First, I don't like open water. Actually, I have this...thing. With fish. I hate them. I don't like looking at them, I certainly don't like touching them, and I will panic if there's one trying to touch me, even by accident. I don't know what it is, but if I see a fish in the water, I just won't go back in. There have been very rare circumstances that I have been able to overcome this phobia for the sake of snorkeling and tropical adventures, but those are few, very far between, and require extensive therapy afterwards. So that's the first thing. I don't like fish.

The SECOND thing is that I don't like open water. It's because of the fish thing I guess, but I hate not being able to see to the bottom of the water. Even deep pools make me nervous. I saw Jaws when I was little, and I am convinced that shark was living in my pool when I was nine.

The SUPER MARBLE itself is the third problem. It's a giant tube. And it bounces you around the damn water so much, you've got to clutch the damn handles for dear life if you want to survive. Which I did. But I also wanted my $300 Tiffany sunglasses to survive with me.

There's still a chance this ends well.

Yes, fine, it was irresponsible for me to be wearing the damn things, but I felt like it would've been more irresponsible for me to leave them on the beach. Better falling off my face than being on someone else's.

We climbed on to that SUPER MARBLE, Tracey and I on either side of my mother, and it was all fun and games. Until the boat started moving, towing our bouncing death trap behind it. It started off choppy but manageable, like speeding down a highway full of potholes, but then they hit the gas.

And I started alternating between praying and yelling obscenities. I could see my mother's legs flopping all around the surface of the stupid tube. I could hear Tracey hooting and hollering. I felt my sunglasses shifting a little more than I was comfortable with, but I couldn't let go of the tube. I was sure if I loosened my grip on the handle even a little, even if just for a second, I'd be cast away, floating away from Aruba, never to be seen again.

So I just screamed instead. It was NOT fun. I thought maybe if I yelled long enough, they'd slow down or take us back. They did not. The screaming, in fact, seemed to encourage them to go even faster, to take the turns even tighter, to actually aim for the surf with the highest waves.

And then this happened and I almost died.

I'll tell you what I thought. I thought that we were going to hit one of those waves and one of two things was going to fly off that tube: me or my Tiffany sunglasses. And either way, I would've been in the water, because there was no way in hell I'd sacrifice those sunglasses. Once I was in the water, I knew already that that tube would be on top of me, and I'd likely drown or suffocate. Maybe both, one by the other. So yeah. That was for sure going to happen.

It was the longest 15 minutes of my life. I'm not even sure they kept us out there for 15 minutes. It might've been 10 minutes, it might've been six hours, and I'm pretty sure it was closer to A LIFETIME. Maybe two, because I'm SURE I saw my life flash in front of my eyes at least twice.

And "notfun"? Yep, I repeated that a couple hundred times. All I wanted was for them to slow down enough for me to swim back to shore, no matter how far away we were when the boat stopped. Which it eventually did. I checked to make sure my sunglasses were still on my face, ripped off that life jacket, and kneeled to kiss the ground.

Not amused. My mother later said that she didn't get worried until she saw the look on my face and realized there might actually be a chance we were going to die out there.

Meanwhile, she still won't ride Big Thunder Mountain. 

It wasn't fun. But it was a memory, and one that we have not hesitated to remind my mother about regularly since it was made. Sometimes people will surprise you.

I think I appreciated every moment of the rest of that trip even more because of the trauma of my mom's choice to surprise us.

Back to my happy place.