On the Personal Front . . .

So it turns out that my move to Florida is instead a brief visit, a 2 month stop along the way to San Antonio, Texas.  Over the past few weeks I’ve barely touched the piano, mainly because I don’t have one at the moment. What I have been doing: watching a lot of (occasionally bad) TV, Crossfitting and taking surf lessons.  

Right now I’m watching Anthony Bourdain, No Reservations on Netflix.  I’m madly jealous throughout most of it, except when he has to eat an eyeball or some such to be polite. I love the way he travels and experiences the culture with locals, foregoing the touristy stuff. All the different foods he gets to sample look amazing (except in the episode with the bushman where he had to eat food cooked in dirt*).  

Crossfit is something I’ve started since I left my personal trainer in VA. Basically, I join a bunch of other people who have gathered together in a place that looks like someone’s gutted garage, and do a lot of painful things - running, pushups, situps, burpees, and olympic lifts. There's no air conditioning and its generally really hard.  Somehow its also addictive, believe it or not.   

As for the surfing lessons, I have really enjoyed them.  I'm not good at it, but I enjoy the whole ‘throw-self-into-the-moment-and-just-do-it’ aspect. My experience went something like this: with the grace and poise of a beached manatee, I’d flop atop the surfboard and listen to George, a grizzled, tanned old dude, deliver a steady patter about everything I did wrong the last time. The first day he’d count me off with a “3-2-1 – go” and I would jump up, rather slowly, into an awkward stance, vaguely unsteady but upright. Over the next few days, I got better - remember, keep the core tight, don’t look down, pop up and bend knees to the surfing stance with shoulder aiming to the left. Gliding along the ocean, adjusting to the wave’s forward momentum, is delightful. There’s a certain serenity to be found in the ocean - until you slam face-first into the water and spend about 10 minutes pushing against the waves, doggedly dragging the surfboard past the ‘break zone’. Then it kinda sucks. I tried to write a haiku about the whole experience - this is what I ended up with:

White fingered ocean

Fighting ev’ry move I make

Bitchsmacked by nature

Fall semester is right around the corner, so I'm hoping to get to Texas sooner, rather than later.  Still TBD though . . . sigh.

*and I quote - ”dirt, fur and crap a part of every bite” - Anthony Bourdain