(no subject)
So there's a funny story about this hat.
I saw one of these being sold by a dude on the street a few days ago. "Now that's the kind of hat for a girl like me!" I thought. But I didn't get that hat right away. I decided I could find one again later, on New Year's Eve. Well! It was harder than you'd think! There were about a million dudes selling NYE crap all over the city, but this one particular hat wasn't super-easy to find. I found a few that were gold, but I didn't want gold. Anyway, I finally did find it, obviously. The guy wanted five dollars. "Five dollars?" says I. He says yes. I tell him, "Well, you're lucky that I'm too drunk to try to bargain." He grunts unhappily. I put out my wallet, and act very sad. "Oh no!" says I. "I only have three dollars. Will you take three dollars?" He will not. "Ian," asks I, "do you have two dollars?" Ian does not. "You won't take three?" asks I, very nicely. He grimaces, holds out his hand. I give him three dollars. He hands me the gold hat. I pick up the silver one. "No," says he, "this one." "Thank you!" says I. "No, this one!" says he. "Thank you!" I repeat, and run away.
It was a hard-won hat, in other words.
And I looked damn good in that hat.
Me and that hat, we liked to do things together. (That's me in the middle, with the bright pink butt.)
But everything comes to an end eventually. For my hat and I, it was at the exact moment in this picture here. I am, again, in the very center. You can just see my head emerging from the waves behind the woman with her hands up on her face.
As you can tell, I have no hat.
This was, it seems likely, also the point at which I lost my glasses.
Here I am searching in vain for said glasses:
FAIL.
But anyway. Other impressions: The Polar Bear website is mondo uninformative and unhelpful. The water was so cold, I wasn't thinking of anything at all - just, "yelp! yelp! yelp!" mostly. So there was no, like, quiet contemplation of the symbolism of baptism and rebirth from the ocean for the New Year. It was sort of more, "Holy fuck I can't feel my thighs." Frankly, even that's an exaggeration. It was all "yelp! yelp! yelp!" then about a minute after I ran back out and wrapped up it was the "holy fuck my thighs" bit, and then about a minute after THAT, I realized that I had lost my glasses. I was very, very, very nervous on the subway on the way there. Like, constant scared-stomach for the entire F train ride. Like, almost as nervous as I was while I was waiting to get on the Top Thrill Dragster. But I think I was way more scared that I'd chicken out than I was scared of doing the deed itself, you know?
Handy tips for anyone planning on it next year: don't even bother with shoes. I know you think you're pretty clever with your old sneakers or your flip flops or whatever, but it's just simpler to free-ball it. And don't worry about the whole cold swimming pool thing, where your belly is the worst part. All of it is the worst part. You won't notice when your belly specifically hits. It was salty. Saltier than I expected. When that wave knocked me down, I couldn't get up right away, but it was more interesting than scary. And, you know, cold. Don't wear your glasses. Don't think about it too much. Wear a substantial swimsuit - I flashed nip like three times. I don't think anybody much cared, frankly. Bring a big towel. Bring socks, for after. Bring a good hat, but put it on AFTER the whole ocean part.
Yeah, that's right. I'm OVER you, old hat!
Hey, look, I have clothes, too.
Woot!
I saw one of these being sold by a dude on the street a few days ago. "Now that's the kind of hat for a girl like me!" I thought. But I didn't get that hat right away. I decided I could find one again later, on New Year's Eve. Well! It was harder than you'd think! There were about a million dudes selling NYE crap all over the city, but this one particular hat wasn't super-easy to find. I found a few that were gold, but I didn't want gold. Anyway, I finally did find it, obviously. The guy wanted five dollars. "Five dollars?" says I. He says yes. I tell him, "Well, you're lucky that I'm too drunk to try to bargain." He grunts unhappily. I put out my wallet, and act very sad. "Oh no!" says I. "I only have three dollars. Will you take three dollars?" He will not. "Ian," asks I, "do you have two dollars?" Ian does not. "You won't take three?" asks I, very nicely. He grimaces, holds out his hand. I give him three dollars. He hands me the gold hat. I pick up the silver one. "No," says he, "this one." "Thank you!" says I. "No, this one!" says he. "Thank you!" I repeat, and run away.
It was a hard-won hat, in other words.
And I looked damn good in that hat.
Me and that hat, we liked to do things together. (That's me in the middle, with the bright pink butt.)
But everything comes to an end eventually. For my hat and I, it was at the exact moment in this picture here. I am, again, in the very center. You can just see my head emerging from the waves behind the woman with her hands up on her face.
As you can tell, I have no hat.
This was, it seems likely, also the point at which I lost my glasses.
Here I am searching in vain for said glasses:
FAIL.
But anyway. Other impressions: The Polar Bear website is mondo uninformative and unhelpful. The water was so cold, I wasn't thinking of anything at all - just, "yelp! yelp! yelp!" mostly. So there was no, like, quiet contemplation of the symbolism of baptism and rebirth from the ocean for the New Year. It was sort of more, "Holy fuck I can't feel my thighs." Frankly, even that's an exaggeration. It was all "yelp! yelp! yelp!" then about a minute after I ran back out and wrapped up it was the "holy fuck my thighs" bit, and then about a minute after THAT, I realized that I had lost my glasses. I was very, very, very nervous on the subway on the way there. Like, constant scared-stomach for the entire F train ride. Like, almost as nervous as I was while I was waiting to get on the Top Thrill Dragster. But I think I was way more scared that I'd chicken out than I was scared of doing the deed itself, you know?
Handy tips for anyone planning on it next year: don't even bother with shoes. I know you think you're pretty clever with your old sneakers or your flip flops or whatever, but it's just simpler to free-ball it. And don't worry about the whole cold swimming pool thing, where your belly is the worst part. All of it is the worst part. You won't notice when your belly specifically hits. It was salty. Saltier than I expected. When that wave knocked me down, I couldn't get up right away, but it was more interesting than scary. And, you know, cold. Don't wear your glasses. Don't think about it too much. Wear a substantial swimsuit - I flashed nip like three times. I don't think anybody much cared, frankly. Bring a big towel. Bring socks, for after. Bring a good hat, but put it on AFTER the whole ocean part.
Yeah, that's right. I'm OVER you, old hat!
Hey, look, I have clothes, too.
Woot!
