Ahhh...the wind in your face, the slap of the waves breaking on the hull, the continuous yelling coming from the cockpit--how I've missed it so. Sailing is a "gentlemen's sport" wherein you spend hours of peaceful tranquility (staring at nothing but water and sky) punctuated by short periods of sheer adrenaline and madness. Basically, it's like my life, but with a better view and more chances for skin cancer. (If you gotta go, you might as well go having fun)

I was cataloging my injuries in the shower when I got home last night, and I realized I have a list that would make any pimp proud:

2 incredibly bruised knees, 1 bruised shin, an elbow to the eye (it's not black or anything, but it's a wee bit tender), 3 broken nails, and aching palms from all the ropework we do. Add the random bruising from other unknowns that look like odd fingerprints, and it's a pretty apt picture of what my summer look is. Summer--when other girls wear skirts to show off their tan and toned legs, but I wear 'em because they don't touch the bruises/contusions/scrapes that I wear thru Labor Day. They're a badge of honor, er, something.

Hey, *you* try jibing and tacking for 3 hours as railmeat and tell me if you don't have some bruises.

I'll be at it all weekend as well, so Monday I should have some incredibly-colored subdural hematomas on display. Long live the crew of Ozy IV!

~~~~~

Do you know what's out in the theaters today? That's right! Finding Nemo!!!! I'm totally excited. You need to go see it. Right now.

Shoo.

And don't pay full-price for The Italian Job. Remember? It's not that good. It's *fun*, but not good. Just so we're clear.

Happy Weekend!