on clowns

The other day I went to look for my colleague Melissa. When I turned the corner of her cube, instead of Melissa, I found this:  

I can't really adequately describe the terror I felt at that moment I saw this. I don't think it's often you're looking for one person and, not only have they been moved from their cube, it's been newly tenanted by an incarnation of your worst nightmare. In the moment I saw it, I felt a full spectrum of emotion. I would have stood there forever if Laura hadn't piped up that "it was way cooler before the balloon deflated and we had to tape it to the wall." I bet it was.  

I never did find Melissa. I'm wondering if the pumpkin had something to do with it.  

cray for surf

I'm crazy for surfing. 

My friend and I discovered we both wanted to become surfers while we were bouldering in Everett in April. Now we've surfed ten times in Massachusetts and we're planning to surf through the winter.  

People think we're crazy. Our coworkers, our family, our friends. 

"You can surf in New England?" they ask.  

Yep, we say, and we refuse to admit there's anything odd about it. There really isn't, actually--once you're a surfer, you look at a puddle and you wonder if you can surf it.  Here in Mass, we have a whole coast to play with.  

It's not like we're in Montana. And now that I'm crazy for surf and I watch every movie, YouTube and web clip about surfing ever, I've discovered you CAN surf in Montana. River surfing. But I'm really more of a coastal surfer right now. 

My husband thinks I'm crazy. I walk around quoting a .99 cent Trader Joe's card I gave him last year: Nothing else matters when surf's up! I holler it out then I throw out my hands and wiggle my hips like I'm on a board.   

He thinks it's a phase, like the flower farm I was going to start (which I still plan on starting someday!) but I tell him, "It's not a phase, it's a lifestyle."

stay wild moon child

I went surfing with my friend Amber on Sunday in Narragansett Beach in RI. For months, I'd been nervous about this--I worried sharks would eat me. So I spent some time researching shark attacks in New England before our trip and was relieved to see that the last shark attack was reported in 1955 in RI, according to Shark Attack Data. Plus, the great white shark sightings for that week had all been clustered around the forearm of Cape Cod.

But what really gave me peace of mind was just accepting that it was happening--that I was doing it, and talking to myself positively about it. I am a strong and brave person, I repeated to myself, in the days leading up to surfing. Surfing is going to be fun.

And it was. It was f-ing amazing.

Our instructor Kerry was soulful and positive. Before getting into the water, we sat on the beach with him and he walked us through how a wave is the embodiment of all the elements--earth, wind, fire and water. And how when we ride a wave that breaks on the shore, we are the only ones to have ever experienced that particular wave. And we should say thank you for that.

Suddenly my mind was clear, and I was just excited. After a brief dry lesson on the shore, we walked into the water and it was on. I popped up on my first wave and rode it in, exhilarated.

Surfing is being in the now. There's no time for thinking of anything else--you are there, riding a board on the water, and focused. We need this in our lives.

I fell in love again with surfing, and feel like anything is possible.