Sunday, May 23, 2010

I'm on a Boat!

In exactly a month, I'm going to be on a fast train to StruggleTown, which will make stops in Take-20-Minutes-To-Put-On-Your-Underwear-With-A-Grabber-Ville, I-Can't-Make-Friends-In-Vancouver-Because-Everyone-There-Is-Too-Cool-For-Me-Town, and Morphine-Makes-Me-Sick-And-Itchy-Opolis. All aboard!

For that reason, I am making the month until my surgery count. Beers will be consumed! 80s hipster rock will be air-guitar-ed to! Ice cream and whipped cream will be eaten inappropriately on campus grounds! (Don't judge. Whipped cream is nature's perfect food). My goal is to do a million different awesome things so that when I'm injecting bloodthinners into my stomach, I won't think, "Damn, my life sucks," but "Hey, remember that time when I rode a freaking jet ski? How cool was that?" Yesterday's offering: I went on a boat.

How I got on this boat, I'm not entirely sure (friend of a friend of a friend), but the bottom line is that I spent all yesterday on Clinton Lake (turns out that there actually are bodies of water in Illinois, which was news to me) in a little speed-boat-y number with Shelley, Bridie and Donnie. The Aussies are going back to Aussie-land soon, so it was a good opportunity to spend time with them before everyone gets deported. (Somewhere some Homeland Security computer program is picking up the word 'foreigner' and 'on a boat.' Just kidding, Homeland Security! My visa is too legit to quit...until July 15th).

Clinton Lake is a warm lake, which apparently is due to the fact that there's a power plant that churns hot water into it (why is my life like something out of the Simpson's?). It's like a bathtub made of energy waste! Come on, nuclear power. Let's see some of those mutations we've heard so much about. Mama needs a new gluteus medius.

Anyhow, you really can't go wrong when you combine a gorgeous day, awesome people, water and alcohol. (Well, I guess water and alcohol can go terribly wrong, but bear with me). The highlight of the day was when I rode a jet ski. A jet ski! Like I was on freaking Baywatch! Or one of those girls in the James Bond movies! This, actually, is progress. Before the hip replacement, I could not physically sit on jet skis/motorcycles/bicycles etc. and I was so excited about being able to do so, that I couldn't help but exclaim, "I can straddle things now!" Turns out that, yeah, sound carries pretty well over water, and I'm sure that the men of East-Central Illinois really appreciated the update. I'm a classy, classy girl. (At least I didn't pass around the cheat sheet of acceptable post-surgical sex positions).

Do I have bruises all over my legs? Yes. Did I wear all the skin off my tailbone from the bumping of the jet ski? Yes. Am I sunburned because even though I applied sunscreen three times throughout the day, I am too white to be allowed near the water and I still have an incredibly red face? Yes. Was it completely worth it? Yes, yes, yes. Not to brag or anything, but sometimes it's good to be me.

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