Saturday, November 19, 2016

We just dove with 12-ft+ feeding nurse sharks. They don't bite, they just suck really hard and give you huge hickies.
Still, it was pretty terrifying for me. I really don't like vast open water, slimy things touching me, or large sea creatures with weird beady eyes. Also I'm a weak swimmer at best. For as much as I travel and do wild and stupid things, I'm one of the wimpiest people I know. I just do a really good job of hiding it, and an amazing job of convincing everyone around me that I'm confident and know exactly what I'm doing, until you think it too. Spoiler: I never know what the fuck I'm doing. I've realized that if I talk myself into thinking I'm brave, eventually I become, in actuality, brave. When something freaks me out now, I do my best to turn and run right into it so that the next time something frightening is looming over me, I can pull one of these experiences out of my confidence bank and be like "hey, remember when you dove with those dead-eyed sharks? You can totally speak in front of this crowd of people leering at you".
It's a really scary time right now. I'm scared to return to the US tomorrow, for the next few years in our country, and also for the future of legal cannabis under its upcoming administration. We just found a space in Boston to start classes (and an amazing teacher!), so I probably won't poop solid for a week before those sessions start. It's totally OK to be scared shitless, but you can't let it destroy you. You can't cave to those lose bowels, my friends.
In an unprecedented turn of events, I woke up in Vegas not hungover and decided to go for a run. I stepped outside into the light and closed my eyes, feeling the beauty of the bright sun on my face and the un-taintable promise of a new day... and immediately was nearly plowed over by a large madman on a Rascal. As he wildly careened past me, we made eye contact and I stared right into his dead fish eyes leading into his black rabid soul. I watched him recede into the darkness of the casino, and in two blinks, he was gone. Was he simply an apparition? I guess we'll never know. Good morning, Sin City.
Current airport status: angrily eating my emotions as I listen to the lady next to me talk about how people protesting Trump need to just "suck it up, get jobs, and stop doing things that disgust the lord". I might choke on this quesadilla. I may die here today. Get me out of Vegas. Get me more sour cream. Another drink. Force-feeding myself edibles out of my purse. *smashes wine glass and runs away shrieking, dragging luggage full of un-worn high heels*