I was paddling into a little wave with the midday sun directly overhead creating blinding reflections when I looked over and saw that I was sharing my break with a shark, about five or seven feet, an arm’s length – or a bite’s length – away and I thought, “Awesome.  This is what I have been waiting for.”

This was my premeditated moment of glory, sink or swim, if you will.

As the wave began to crack I looked to the beach, popped up and cut away.  I glided back and forth with a plastic smile of terror gracing my face, the way that I listen to my favorite songs only on airplanes in case of a crash; if this was going to be my last ride in, I wanted it to be splendid.

I pump-pumped to milk the last bit of distance out of the ride, let my hip bones hit the board and paddled in.  Once to the beach, I turned to look out, took a deep breath, sighed, and projectile vomited where I stood.

See, I began surfing because I was afraid of sharks not because I was hunting adrenaline…or boys.

They say, and so do I, that consciousness has no climax.  Once one is aware of something there is no going back, likewise, there is no heightened awareness.

I’m aware of how loud Americans are and embarrassed by it.  I’m mortified… like a teenage girl of her mother’s fanny pack… of how little foreign language I know.  I’m a self-loathing blonde.  But every day is a battle for what mark I would like to leave v. people’s assumptions about me.

Yesterday:  Me – 5, World – 2.  I am winning.

It would be so easy to write stories at home.  I could fill my life with the religion I grew up with, the friends I already know, late nights at Burger King and early mornings with, comparably, really mediocre coffee.

It’s so easy to surf when the waters are calm.

So, if I have to fill that hole, let my vice be discomfort…and Lucky Strikes, no filters, even if it means saying pene when I mean penne.

Discomfort, where I live, where I love, and without which I wouldn’t know a thing about me, or you, or the world at small.

I’ll get comfortable when I get in my coffin.

I implore myself and others to find peace and acceptance in a state of discomfort.  Sharks may be anywhere.  See for yourself.

But il surf va su, the surf goes on.