Monday Called...And I Hung Up

So. Tired. Must. Nap

Woowee kiddos. What a weekend of fun and excitement. First, Friday night we went star gazing on Pensacola Beach. The local college, or someone with big telescopes brings them out to the beach for the public to view. Once the clouds cleared, we did manage to see the moon...and Saturn.

Saturday I went to the Zumbathon with Miss Vickie. I also stole these pictures from her blog.
Here we are pre-2 hour Zumba event. And here we are after.
We are moist and beautiful yes?

After Zumba I headed to the beach, where I thought I would try my hand at windsurfing. I should have known better. If I can't paddle it, or if it doesnt have a motor...historically...that spells disaster. One should never have to rely on the wind. Or their own brain. Both are totally overrated.

Here is what windsurfing looks like done properly. I do not know this fellow...I found him on Google.

Here's what happened. Inside of my head lives a Rockstar Voice. Sometimes this Rockstar Voice tells me I am a legend. A star. And that I should just do it....whatever it is. So my Rockstar Voice said:

"Ride the windsurfer Amy. BEEEEE the Windsurfer."

Heather on the other hand said "Don't get hurt jackass. I won't be able to save you". Aw...young love.

So I got on that sucker, pulled the sail up and started to actually move. I was squatting down, flexing my muscles, hair blowing in the breeze. I sailed down the coast. And then I realized...it was time to turn around. At this point Rockstar Voice said:

"Yeah. You're screwed".

The wind was gone. I dropped the sail. I fell in the water. Not to be deterred, I hoped back up on the board and heaved that humongous sucker of a sail out of the water. I repeated this sad dance of shame for about 15 minutes. Finally, as I saw myself blowing out to sea...I had to decide to sink or swim. Literally. So I gave up and started swimming that heavy bastard...sail dragging in the water...back to shore. At one point, with impending doom lurking in my heart and soul...I almost gave myself back to the sea. As a mermaid, it would have been poetic. But I finally made it to shore...and trudged the long shameful walk back to my audience and girlfriend. My poor body bruised...fitting because so was my ego.

I managed to rally though! At least I tried! Damn you, your Rockstar Voice in my head!

Today I wore a little dress I have been hanging onto for at least 6 months. Mommy likes.

And I just wanted to give you a close up of my right leg. Do you see in that picture above how it looks there is a large shadow? Yeah. That's a bruise. I am sporting a dress with hillbilly tomboy legs.

I am even bruised on my other leg as well! Would you like to hear that story? Real quick like?

WELL, last weekend boating with Heather, while most of her family was off in the bass boat, her and her cousin Clint and I were hanging out on shore. Down the way was a beach house with a pier that just happened to have a hammock on it. Surely, I reckoned to myself, the owners of mister beach house wouldn't mind if I swung in their hammock. SO, guess what happened?

Rockstar Voice piped up and said "Amy...you should TOTALLY walk down that rocky and wet shoreline to get to the pier. You can do it and you will look like a total badass."

So off I went. Perilous were those rocks. They were slippery, but I am a graceful dancer and thought I could navigate them. Well, about halfway to the pier, I stepped on a mossy stone, slipped, managed to ram one foot in a pile of rocks and then face planted (and shin planted) into the other rocks. I pulled my foot out of the hole...blood...lots of blood. Thought I lost a toe. My shin took the brunt of the fall though.

At this point I could have turned around. BUT NO...If I was going to lose two perfectly healthy toes and crack a femur...I was making it to that damn hammock.

So I kept going.

And I made it.

And then I realized the people were actually home.

So I panicked. Crouched like a little barnacle on the end of the pier...and waited in humiliation for the bass boat to come pick me up.

So that's where I originally got the bruise. THEN, after the windsurfing debacle this weekend, everytime I would get back up on the board, I would land on my bruise.

It's hard being me ya know?

But someone has to do it!

Merry Monday lovies!