If I had gone into this weekend with some sort of intentionality, this blog would be much more inspirational. Instead, for the most of the 72 hours that made up September 8-10, I was simply doing what people said. Of course, I still wound up having the time of my life so who cares!??
Last week my Toyota had another hiccup. I loved that car (hint: the past tense there is a clue as to one thing that happened). But this year, it's had several small things go wrong. When I started having to open my door by rolling down the window and using the outside latch, I had a rather strong reaction to the idea that my redneck roots might be showing. So I began to consider selling.
That "consideration" started on Wednesday and by Friday I was driving to Galveston in my new "salsa red" VW Beetle convertible. The coolest part of the experience was how my friends assisted in the process and, yet, I still did the negotiating (something I hate) and got a GREAT drive out price. (Note that I can now use the lingo!)
Friday night and Saturday were spent in a work gig that had me well outside my comfort zone but I survived and with less than 100 miles on the car, put the top down and drove down the Seawall with a smile on my face.
The next morning I drove to a nearby airport and prepared to JUMP OUT OF A PERFECTLY GOOD AIRPLANE!!
By Sunday afternoon I'd fulfilled a lifelong desire . . . skydiving. I jumped in tandem with a yellow-haired (and I don't mean blonde) pierced guy named Hoop who was more than happy to display his piercings and his passion for the parachute. He kept me calm with his deep Texas twang and his 12 years of experience. At 9,000 feet, I felt a tad bit of reservation but by 14,000 feet, I was ready to go.
Until I looked down. With nothing between me and the ground but puffy white clouds, I might have hesitated except for the fact that Hoop was counting and we were already on "Get Set" which meant "Go" was happening NOW!
I didn't so much jump as I simply fell out of the plane. I arched as instructed and began looking at the device strapped to my wrist that told me altitude. I smiled at the camera man who was being paid well to come along for the ride. We spun around for several seconds. And then at 6,000 feet we pulled the cord. WHOOSH! I was hanging in mid air. A couple of spirals which felt like free falling without the speed or as I described it to Hoop in what could only be called an exclamation, "We're dancing in the clouds!" and then I was stretching out my legs for the landing.
Which we did on four feet and not our behinds, thank you very much.
So in one weekend ... two dreams fulfilled.
What could possibly be next?