You Bet I Did!
I consider myself a Type-B person. Laid back. Relaxed. Too cool for school.
In my dreams.
But when I wake up, I am a nervous, anxious, middle-aged lady always trying too hard.
And full of fears.
Among the things I fear (and you can find more here):
Firecrackers (I like fireworks though – but not the kind that are just horrid ear-splitting noise, that you also know will blow someone’s fingers off)
Eating weird food – and I define ‘weird’ broadly, like sushi and calamari (and jello – it’s a texture thing)
Dobermans (with good reason)
The part of flying where you hit the ground and scream down the runway
Talking to strangers
Watching my husband (or anyone) use a chainsaw
But when I go on vacation, I find my brain calming down, my nerves unjangling.
And all those billions of little fears falling away.
And I get brave. Really brave.
We just came back from six days in Jamaica.
The last time we vacationed, I did incredibly brave things. Like standing up in a Land Rover and riding a jet-ski. And I had a beer at ten in the morning. And I almost touched a snake.
I rode a horse!
This may be totally unexciting to you, but I only rode a horse once before, and it was not exactly a success for either of us.
But this time was great. I actually had two different horses. The first guy was named Clumsy, which didn’t bode well, but I managed. Clumsy must have sensed my nervousness, and he was not thrilled. He kept cranking his head around and giving me dirty looks. The guide rode over and told me that sometimes Clumsy gets a little ornery, and I should just loosen the reins and let him be boss. I don’t think in general that is very good advice for horsemanship, but I gladly let Clumsy be the boss of me, since I didn’t want to be the meal of him.
And the second horse! Wow! His name was Dark Star. He was energetic but gentle at the same time. And he had a crush on me. I could feel it. We had a swim together.
And that’s not all!
My husband (who can out-worry me under the table any day of the week) and I played Tarzan and Jane. Yes, we swung through the trees in the jungles of Jamaica. Zip-line! We truly did. My husband checked my harness about seven hundred times, and I still wasn’t sure until the very last moment that I could actually step off that platform. But once I did – I knew I was meant to be a swinger. Here’s how much I liked it: I didn’t even care that I was dressed like an idiot.
Literally. A Swinger.
Back to my last post, where I said I wanted to go a clothing-optional beach and avail myself of the option?
(And I may write about it eventually. When I stop blushing.)