This past weekend, I fulfilled a bucket list item that I put on my list three years ago, almost to the day—to drink champagne on a yacht. This trip happened purely with the help of my friends. It was an incredible, beautiful weekend.
I have really never spent time on a boat before, and I was on this one pretty much all weekend when I wasn’t on land, getting a run in, or chowing down on a burger or some fresh fish. I thought I would get sick when I first boarded, and had to put on my motion sickness bracelets, but I soon adjusted to the slow rocking, and to my small quarters, which I found to be like a cozy hobbit hole on the water. Everything is very small, even on a big boat. Doors, beds, cupboards. I am also somewhat small, so it suited me just fine. A girl could get used to that life, or at least visiting that life from time to time. Playing cards on a boat on a calm evening is a pretty great way to spend the evening, and writing from the deck of a boat in the sunshine is downright awesome. Boat parties are also very intimate and close, because of the smaller space. Someone did puke off the side of the boat, but it wasn’t me.
My host is a friend and a really great guy. We had a really fun weekend, and I got some pictures of me fulfilling the bucket list item. I thought the pictures were pretty horrible as I look like a sack of middle-aged garbage someone stuffed into a bathing suit, but my joy was evident in the pictures, and my friends were enthusiastic and supportive as hell about me posting them all over social media, which is awesome.
I laid down last night in my bed, and missed the gentle rocking. It’s sexual, really.
Back to reality yesterday, and land-based life. Parenting, and my long to-do list for the week, which includes some fun, but also a good bit of work. I picked up the kid last night and wanted to know if they had talked about 9/11 at school, because I have never covered it with him. He gave a cursory, “blah blah blah” type explanation and clearly really didn’t know what happened. I decided that 8 is old enough to know more, so I explained what happened, and showed him a few video clips. He is a child who has grown up watching things on TV that are larger than life, so it really didn’t impact him tragically or dramatically, which I pretty much expected. He asked why this happened and said he didn’t understand why anyone would do what the hijackers did, and wanted to know why they hated us. I basically said war is futile and is just a back and forth that nobody ever wins. We kill some of you, you kill some of us, we take this one out, they take that one out, and it just perpetuates hate and violence and there’s really nothing good about it.
I thought about the guys I met on the dock this past weekend who asked if we had a lighter, and I gave them a book of matches. They assembled a hookah and were smoking it looking out at the water, and they invited me to join them so I went out to talk to them. One was from Syria, one from Jordan and another from Iraq. They were friendly but not in any type of creepy, hitting on me way, and we talked a little. They had never been to the island before, and though I’m not an islander, I’ve been there enough that I made a couple of recommendations for them to check out before they left later that evening. They waved and smiled as they left in their golf cart and I thought how this is really how it should be, and if my sole conversation helps further that ideal, I’m glad.
The kid has a cold and is a little crabby, and I’m fighting a little something as well. But I must press on, there are press releases and speeches to write, articles to pitch, meetings to take, meals to cook, and music to guide me through this busy week.