A Haiku for June

Humid balmy breeze
my hair sticks to my forehead
makes me feel dizzy

Your face hot and red
calling me closer to you
we laugh and we melt

Jump in cold water
float underneath the surface
there you'll find heaven

It's the first summer
where I can recall
what it feels like to be alive

Sun rises, sun sets
Beach sands carry in the wind
My eyes close, joyful

A Summer of Firsts! Part One

Summer of firsts - Scuba Dive Certification

This is an exhilarating a summer of firsts for me. I’m trying a lot of new things in a short period of time. I have always wanted to be more active and step up my fitness, so what better time is there but now?


So far turning 30 has been the best thing that ever happened to me, and I’ve made a commitment to myself that my “next 30 years” as the song goes, are going to be so much better than the first. I  love to grow and learn new things, and I want to experience life at its fullest.


So, this summer is my first time scuba diving, my first 5K race, and my first Sprint Triathlon. There’s more, but we’ll start with those three.


I’m going to write about each one from a newcomer’s perspective. I promise, you will hear about every honest “first” experience in all its gritty detail.


Part one is about scuba diving, but I’ve split it into two parts because there is just too much to say for one blog.  Later this week I'll finish the Scuba Dive blog with part two, and then in a week or so I'll write about my first 5K, which I completed yesterday. Enjoy.

Part One of Scuba Open Water Certification: Pool skills

I decided to get certified for open water scuba diving through the PADI (Professional Association of Diving Instructors) Certification offered in Granger.


So how is it that I decided to get certified to scuba dive? When Kyle and I first started dating, we were having these crazy deep discussions like new couples do, and one day he asked me “What is one thing you've always wanted to try but have never done?”

I answered, “It would be cool to scuba dive.”


He replied “I'm advanced certified. We should do that someday.”


I remember thinking he was kind of a showoff for answering like that, (Really? the one thing I want to try in this world and you are advanced certified?) but, I was secretly impressed anywho.


And so the story begins.


Nine months later, Kyle and I are planning a honeymoon to Bora Bora, and we aren’t going to miss out on some of the world’s best diving in the blue lagoons of Tahiti. In order to dive in Bora Bora, he needed to re-certify (because it’s been a few years since he dove), and I needed to get certified. So we did it together this May. The course consists of two weekends, both Saturday and Sunday, where the student has to complete certain scuba skill sets. The first weekend takes place in the pool and the second weekend consists of four actual dives in a lake or quarry.


We were lucky to have another couple learning with us on that first day, and strangely enough their wedding date was exactly the same as ours. So when we got in the pool and our instructor told us to tread water for ten minutes, the four of us chatted about our impending nuptials and honeymoons rather than dreading the tread. Before we knew it, time was up.


Next was a 200-meter swim. I have been swimming freestyle to prepare for my first sprint triathlon for about 8 months now, so I was kind of excited to be put to this test. The 200 meters (four laps in a 25-meter pool) is the exact length I will swim in the lake for my first triathlon. Although I feel comfortable swimming and have incredibly improved my freestyle skill in the last few months, when I’m in the pool I have the tendency to stop and rest when I get just a little tired. I had never pushed myself to do the whole 200 meters. Also, lately I haven’t been practicing in the pool weekly as I should be. I knew I was behind. So, being forced to swim the 200-meters-without stopping was a good thing.


Turns out I had been limiting myself by taking breaks in practice. I exceeded my expectations and did it just fine without stopping. In fact, the only thing that really irked me was that I didn’t have my swim cap and my hair kept plastering on my face when I came up to breathe. I was breathing a little heavy, but I probably could have done another couple laps, and I’m sure the immediately preceding water tread had something to do with that. It felt fantastic because I knew I could do it for the triathlon as well (and I have until August to prepare for that even more). For a girl growing up just swimming for leisure and not for sport, (and never having freestyled correctly until this year) I felt pretty accomplished. I know it will be a little harder in a choppy lake surrounded by people, but now I know I am ready and able to do it – an unexpected perk of my first day of scuba certification.


The rest of the day was kind of challenging. I was a little nervous and felt unprepared, like I should have studied the scuba book better (yes, there is a book, and homework, and a test!) I had perused it over a time period of two months, just for half-hours here and there in the evenings when I found the time (I am working towards my masters degree and work a very demanding job, so time is not exactly of the essence right now). When I got there that morning, I realized I had forgotten a lot of what I read in the beginning. I felt like too much time had elapsed since I had gone over the basics.


We just jumped into it, without any prep. People were quickly barking out commands with the equipment set-up and I couldn’t remember the different names of parts of the equipment ( BC, regulator, octopus, etc.) Also I had too much caffeine that morning and felt jittery and foggy-headed, which did not help.


After the first hour in the water my teeth were in a full-on chatter. Not a surprise as I tend to get cold easy, and we weren’t moving around much, kind of just standing in shallow water and going over instructions, maybe dipping our head in now and then to clear the water out of our mask.


The instructor then gave me a wetsuit to wear, which was nice, except it was about 3 sizes too big. I’m a size 4 pants and about 5”2 height. I’m built little. Here I am with this bulging, drooping wet suit, wearing a weight belt that was way too big for my waist but was supposed to help hold me down in the water since there were huge air pockets in the too-big wet suit. Because I kept floating up, one instructor threw an extra weight bag in one of my pockets, which kiltered me sideways a little. To say the least, I was having problems with buoyancy.


Let’s go back to the beginning. Buoyancy is one of the most important skills you can learn for scuba. When you look at pictures or videos of people scuba diving, it looks so serene, so cool. They look like streamlined fish floating effortlessly through the water with the flick of a fin. I found out quickly that it’s not really like that, at least not at first.


Scuba tanks alone can weigh 35-50 pounds, and that doesn’t include your welt belt, vest and other equipment. It’s like having a small person riding around on your back - in the water. Imagine how hard it sometimes is to swim underwater, staying upright and getting to wherever it is you are trying to go on your own. Then imagine how that might be with another person on your back. You do have a buoyancy vest that helps you float depending on how much air you put in it, (you have to fill it up at the surface so that you can stay afloat when you begin and end a dive), so that helps, and the tank is filled with air so obviously that floats as well. Regardless, having weight in unexpected places, such as your back or hips, can throw you off with the smallest current or misstep.


Flip to the right to avoid seaweed, and your tank pulls you towards the bottom. Try to sit back and put your fins on in shallow water, and your tank pulls you backward. Just imagine trying to climb up a pool ladder or boat ladder with that much weight on your back.


I have to say I did not know scuba was as physically demanding as it was. I wouldn’t have changed my mind about trying it, but it would have been nice to have a heads up. I am a pretty physically fit person – I work out at least five times a week – and yet I was very close to not being able to pick up the tank or carry the tank on my own, which is something you have to do to help your buddy gear up. My back and arms hurt for days. After all this, you have to put fins on your feet and walk backwards to get in the water. Talk about awkward!


So, all that being said, my too-large wetsuit situation did not help my balance and buoyancy situation. I felt a little dizzy too because it was so hard for me to keep my bearings in the water, floating and rotating this way and that. Luckily, I had a very patient instructor, so there were a couple skills he said to sit out because I wouldn’t be able to perform them with my out-of-whack buoyancy. Most of the other skills I was did okay, except that I had an old mask which had broken-down rubber seal. So that made it difficult to keep water out of my mask, and to clear the mask of water when it fills (that was one of our skill sets).


The first time I tried to clear my mask at the bottom of the pool (about 12 feet under) I panicked a little because I couldn’t get all the water out of the mask and it was going up my nose. It was my first time going that deep (which really isn’t deep at all) and I was a little freaked out. So, even though I had oxygen coming into my mouth, I felt like I was being suffocated with water up my nose. The instructor took my hand and led me to the surface, explaining to me that I wasn’t doing the technique exactly right. After that he had me practice it some in shallow water and I was able to do it, but you better bet the first thing Kyle and I did was go buy new masks before our next dive.


Also, we had to practice taking the regulator out of our mouth and finding our alternate air source (or octopus) and then breathe out of that. You always have an octopus attached to your tank, in case something goes wrong with your own regulator or if you need to provide breathing assistance to a buddy. However the mouthpiece sits in the water while you dive, collecting water. To use it, you have to first “purge” it of water by pressing the purge button, which uses the the air to quickly shoot the water out. You need to practice using the purge button in case you get in a situation where you are out of breath and don’t have an exhale left to clear the water on your own.

 When it was my turn to show this skill, I used the purge button as instructed, but forgot one very important step: To lift up my tongue to touch the roof of my mouth and put it as a shield between the mouthpiece and my throat – enough that I could breath the air that comes out, but at the same time prevent the excess water from shooting down my throat. I immediately felt like I was choking once again, with tons of chlorinated pool water shooting down my esophagus. It was actually probably not that much water, but it sure felt like it.


One thing I learned from that situation: It was really scary for a quick second, but I coughed into the octopus and then the next breath I took, I was just fine. It is interesting how quickly your mind goes to panic mode when faced with the notion of not being able to breathe. All bets are off, all skill sets forgotten. If you don’t learn how to control these natural panic urges, you can’t scuba dive. No matter what situation you get in, there is always a protocol and a back-up. Just because you may choke on a little water or have a little water go in your mask and up your nose, or something might feel scary for a second because you are really far underwater, that doesn’t mean you are not going to be able to breathe. By staying calm and patient and not panicking, giving it a second and thinking logically about what you need to do next (signal that you need air to your buddy, or try to blow out your nose and clear your mask again, for example) you will be able to scuba dive just fine.


It’s all about conquering your fears. And everyone is different; Kyle said he did not have any of those first-time jitters or fears that I did when he first dove (maybe that has something to do with the fact that he was a testosterone-filled 17-year old boy, I don’t know) Personally, I think I needed to go through those situations to get through a little bit of my own fear. I was determined to get certified regardless of my fears, so I felt good about being able to complete my skill sets at the end of the day.


My instructor said that he and his family have dived so many times – hundreds upon hundreds of times around the world – that they “joke” with one another by coming up behind each other and turning off the other’s air tank underwater. (yes, that's what I said).


They don’t know what’s happening until they try to take a breath and there’s no air left (you would have to be really flexible to be able to reach back and turn back on your own air valve. Probably the only way out of that situation is to swim closely to someone else and grab their octopus to breath out of, and that would take a minute or two.) Haha, funny. Not sure I’ll ever be comfortable enough to joke on that level.


After that day in the pool, though, I did feel much more confident and more prepared for the lake dive, because I knew I handled my own panic situation successfully.


I have to admit there were times laying in bed at night that I thought about that feeling of the water going up my nose and shooting down my throat, feeling that familiar racing pulse again, and wondering how I will handle that if it happens at 25 feet in a lake rather than the safer and shallower pool practice. I was a bit anxious for our lake dive the following weekend.


In next week’s blog: My experience diving in Barron Lake at 25 feet.


Conditions: Dark, murky, 60 degrees.


My first dive was terrifying. We’ll talk about that in part two.

A Very Angry Bird

Last week, Kyle and I (my fiance) decided to go see the movie Pirates of the Caribbean 4 in 3D. Pretty good movie (I am a huge Johnny Depp fan), but it turned out to be a semi-bad experience.


Let me tell you why this innocent night out at the movies to see Johnny Depp act like a drunken pirate turned into a bad experience.


Kyle and I got there really early. We were on our way back from looking at a 14-person tent at Target (that's a story for another day). So we were done shopping and there was no need to return home on the other side of town before the movie.


We showed up 20 minutes early, got our snacks and, as the only people in the movie theater, commenced to pulling out our phones and doing the only thing sensible people could think of doing when faced with 20 minutes of waiting -- playing Angry Birds and laughing about one another's defeats.


We were just passing time before the movie, very innocently I might add, with our phones on silent.


First, a note about Angry Birds.


I am NOT a gamer. I really don't like games because I am usually not good at them and they make me anxious. Not on cell phones, PlayStation, or anywhere. I can totally conquer Scrabble, but hand me a Xbox controller and I'll drive off a building. But Kyle would play Angry Birds for hours, and upon a curious glance one day, I thought it looked kinda fun with the animals and all.


So I tried it.


And anyone who has tried this game knows the end of the story. I was immediately hooked and now have an insatiable need to kill monkeys in my spare time.


Does it piss me off? Yes. Especially when those spider monkeys try and climb back up the box or branch and then shake their heads like they are laughing at me.

Am I good at it? Not really. Sometimes it takes me an hour to get through one level.


Do I keep playing it anyway? Yes. I can't help myself.


So there I am, a few days a week, in my supposedly relaxing evening lull, randomly yelling at the phone and getting ready to throw it across the room, because despite my awesome slingshot skills there is still one monkey left, cowarding under cement bricks and boards and laughing at me because I'm out of birds.


Kyle and I often joke about our Angry Birds addiction. We have a phrase around the household: "Families that play Angry Birds together stay together."


But anyway. I digress.


Soon the previews started, people trickled in and the theater was about halfway full. Through my peripheral vision, I spied a weird old man sitting behind us and to our left. It was obvious he was staring in our direction. Like I usually do when weird old men stare, I ignored him.


Let me explain just a few of the top reasons I call him "weird:"


1.) He was wearing a red plaid flannel shirt that looked like it came from CVS and a hat pulled down far over his hair - hair that was strangely straight, blond, messy, and wig-like.


2.) He was VERY tan, like an orangey-brown tan, even though he was old and wrinkly. I am going to guess about 65 years old.


3.) He looked drunk. He had glazed crazy-eyes and slurred speech.


A couple of minutes later, the little Sprint ad came on the movie screen that says to please "silence your phones - no texting or talking." (It did not say "no Angry Birds-playing," although it would have been funny if it did).


The movie had not started and the lights had not dimmed yet, so we continued to play. I am one of those people that hates when people use cell phones during movies, so I was prepared to turn my phone off immediately when those credits started rolling.


Suddenly I hear grumbling from behind us to our left, something to the effect of: "These idiots don't know how to read.....blah blah, something or other....cell phones....."


Kyle did not hear it, lost in his Angry Bird oblivion.


I chose to ignore it, once again, thinking maybe this crazy surfer-hunter-wigman will shutup.

A poem for grandpa

Still Fighting



Grandpa showered us little girls in rare silver coins.

Half-dollars, Silver B. Anthony’s, maybe even Pocahontas’s,

He’d pull them out of his pocket and we’d run to him

I have hundreds now, a child’s treasure box.


I remember many things,

But mostly gathering ‘round a recliner while grandpa recited “Paul Revere’s Ride,”

gesturing boldy with his war-crippled fingers,

speaking the 130-line poem from memory.



His voice boomed and I listened wide-eyed, eating slices of frozen pizza.

I didn’t understand belfries and British muskets.

Yet every word of his poetic rhyme mesmerized this young mind,

and there kindled a love for literature and poetry.


Grandpa always dresses in his Sunday best, even sitting at home

Crisp trousers, gold rings and a sweater vest

A comb ran through his hair before a picture.


There is no a holiday, nor get-together

Without grandpa raising a glass to his family

With an Irish limerick or “ode to someone.”

Never passing up a moment to teach, humor and inspire.



When grandpa talks, it hushes my boisterous family

And although they won’t admit it,

They fear him when he approaches a game of poker,

Dropping that heavy purple cloth bag of change on the table


He is many things, my grandpa:

A man who questions the world around him,

A professor, a poet, an orator, a veteran,

but mostly the proud patriarch of his family.


Now 85 years young and married 65

We almost lost him in May

Survived two gunshot wounds in Iwo Jima and now,

A third heart attack, the heart still beating – his body refusing to let go


I bet he’s wondering “Why me?”

As famously repeated in his Iwo Jima poem.

They said he’d die, but no-

He’s on the homeland, yet fighting still


Grandpa makes a mockery of the doctor’s assumptions,

And keeps waking up in the morning.

They take his vitals and say he’ll expire soon,

But, no, they don’t know my grandpa.



He jokes with nurses, that glint still in his eyes

Says he’s given up reading for Lent,

And raises his hands in a helpless shrug when someone asks him if he’d like a beer,

Answering “I’ll try,” when I say he better be at my September wedding.



Robbed of his ears in the war and now his heart,

A valve damaged on the operating table,

Grandpa sits in a nursing home, biding away his time.

Smiling lovingly into grandma’s eyes, and writing her love notes.




My grandpa's name is William Madden. At left, is the book in which his poem was published, and the book was also named after him by the author. You can see his poem by looking inside the electronic copy on Amazon. Also, the author wrote a nice note to him on the first couple of pages.

City of Seattle

I recently took a mini-vacation to Seattle, Washington. I had a work training to attend, plus I have a friend who lives out there that I haven't seen in ages, so I stayed an extra day for a little sight-seeing.

Seattle is an interesting city. It's true what they say, that it's cloudy and rains a lot, although when the sunshine does peak out and sparkle over the water and mountains, it's quite majestic. One morning I watched fog crawl in between mountain peaks past the city skyline from my hotel window (pics below) and found it to be absolutely beautiful. If I'd had more time, I would have tried to get a little closer to the mountains and actually do some hinking. Also unique to Seattle were the people. They are cyclists, organic/vegan food and coffee enthusiasts, and music lovers. In Seattle, it's okay to be different or not the average American "Joe." In fact, I think everyone is expected to be a little different, and if you're not different than your obviously an outsider. I knew I stood out like a sore thumb when I walked to Nordstrom's in my work attire and a man carrying a skateboard jeered at me: "Hey lady you look fancy, you look good. Niiiiice."

It's not uncommon in Seattle to get served coffee by a tattooed lady with a mohawk, or to live by the waters' edge in a floating house covered in artwork and statues. The guys sport beards and the local newspaper peddles medical marijuana in its ads. Everyone stops for pedestrians and cyclists, even if you are a ways down the street from the car. Cats seem to randomly wander the streets.

People (like my friend) often live in neighborhoods with steep hills that close down on Seattle's few icy days. There is also some GREAT food in Seattle, much of it from small coffeeshops and family owned neighborhood sandwich joints. Below are some pictures I took. Enjoy.

The mountains encased by morning fog and sunrise...taken from Renaissance Hotel downtown.

The city, and some notable signs.

bauhaus cafe: Best cafe mocha ever! And they have Koolaid on the menu (for $1.50 lol!)

Seattle Art Museum.

Pike Place Fish market: famous for fish-throwing. And for using too many exclamation points.

Piroshkis at Pike Place...I didn't try but a friend said they are AMAZING. The line to get one was like an hour long.

First Starbucks ever. Again, the line was too long so I didn't go in. But, notice how different the Starbucks symbol is. They must have opted to go with a more culturally acceptable logo than this old one in which my friend calls a "vag-tail."

This potato looked amazing so I thought it deserved a picture although I did not eat it :)

by the ocean...

Rocky Mountain Chocolate Company....all I can say is yum

Below are Seattle's floating houses and the boardwalks/area around them. Beautiful and unique.

I want one.

I like Thai food and Seattle has lots of Thai and Asian-inspired restaurants. There is also LOTS of sushi if you are a sushi fan. Below is Prik King Chicken from the restaurant Rom Mai Thai. Very good, even though I asked for a "1" spicy on a scale from 1 to 5, and actually got more like a "4."

Best crab wontons EVER. All home-made. Not a good picture because we ravenously started devouring them before I could stop to get the camera out.

Picture taken from inside my friend's house on a hill, where she has to put her parking brake on every time she parks and swears she got so skinny from pushing babies in a stroller up and down the street. I need a new occupation. ;)

Great city! Will go back and next time visit the mountains, and maybe Portland as well. Hopefully next time I won't come back with a sinus infection :(