bring it on, ocean
tuesday morning we left for sunny san diego. we took the metro to the commuter lines and drove the rest of the way. memories of last year's trip surfaced as we drove on the 101 by the coast and through small towns packed with surf shops and the like.
i'm staying at my brother and his friend chris' place, only minutes from the beach. ah, the beach. for the past few days, it's all i've known. tuesday i tanned, out of a need to even out this nasty, uneven soccer tan. it's so strange seeing white people darker than my soccer socks/shorts tan lines. i'm like, whoa, lay off the fake bake kiddos. but it's not fake bake. they live by the beach.
yesterday, we went boogieboarding. i caught wave after wave and was launched at thrilling speeds toward the shore. the water starts off ice cold, but i get used to the salty brew stinging my cuts and swallowing me in its monstrous waves.
today was a mixture of that same adrenaline thrill with much, much pain. my brother, chris, my two cousins, and i loaded our gear and boards into the cars and prepared to take on the ocean in a duel of surfing. i'm going to tell you ahead of time: i lost. but not without a fight. my brother kept pushing me out, and helped me catch a lot of waves. unfortunately, i still had to stand on the surfboard. and that is where time and time again, i fell off and crashed into the depths of the raging water, often only to be choked by the current or hit upside the head by my own board. though out of the many times i went out, i did manage to stand up about 4 times, and for a few seconds.
after having had the crap beaten out of me by the ocean and my board, i trudged to shore and let the sun finish me off by cooking my skin. now i'm back here, and after having had lunch at wahoo's fish tacos, i'm burnt, bruised, and tired. but i shook my fist at that ocean and swore revenge.
i'm staying at my brother and his friend chris' place, only minutes from the beach. ah, the beach. for the past few days, it's all i've known. tuesday i tanned, out of a need to even out this nasty, uneven soccer tan. it's so strange seeing white people darker than my soccer socks/shorts tan lines. i'm like, whoa, lay off the fake bake kiddos. but it's not fake bake. they live by the beach.
yesterday, we went boogieboarding. i caught wave after wave and was launched at thrilling speeds toward the shore. the water starts off ice cold, but i get used to the salty brew stinging my cuts and swallowing me in its monstrous waves.
today was a mixture of that same adrenaline thrill with much, much pain. my brother, chris, my two cousins, and i loaded our gear and boards into the cars and prepared to take on the ocean in a duel of surfing. i'm going to tell you ahead of time: i lost. but not without a fight. my brother kept pushing me out, and helped me catch a lot of waves. unfortunately, i still had to stand on the surfboard. and that is where time and time again, i fell off and crashed into the depths of the raging water, often only to be choked by the current or hit upside the head by my own board. though out of the many times i went out, i did manage to stand up about 4 times, and for a few seconds.
after having had the crap beaten out of me by the ocean and my board, i trudged to shore and let the sun finish me off by cooking my skin. now i'm back here, and after having had lunch at wahoo's fish tacos, i'm burnt, bruised, and tired. but i shook my fist at that ocean and swore revenge.