In Which LL Reenacts that Whole "Drowned Sailor" Thing

We just returned from Le Mexique and barely have a moment to blog, but our payment from FHC is the only way we afford Chelsea rent. 

We haven't read the blog for the past 6 days, but a quick skim leads me to believe that our so-called "ex" is mostly prostituting himself unsuccessfully.  (Note to FH: we're meeting up with Fagat shortly and plan on getting all the details).

Back to the raison d'etre of le Blog: Us.  We almost didn't come back from Cozumel alive.  There are beaches on both sides of the island - to the west, the sea is very call and serene.  On the other, more beautiful, easy side of the island the ocean is incredibly turbulent and has a strong current.  While we were on that messy side of the island, nature called.  Because its essentially a national park, there are no public bathrooms.  So, as they say, when in the sea do as the fish do: we left the beach to urinate in the ocean.  Only every time a wave hit us we would lose focus and nothing would come out of our bladder.  We decided, foolishly it turns out, to swim much further out where the waves were slightly less rough.  We peed.  Success.  We hadn't been keeping an eye on the shore, and when we turned around, it looked to be a good 200 feet away.  Easy, we told ourself; we are a strong swimmer.  So we tried to swim forward.  But after every stroke, the sea managed to pull us backward.  For 30 seconds we continued to struggle and made no progress.  We started to feel our heartbeat a little more ferociously.  The waves crashed down on our head and all around us; we were losing our breath and strength quickly.

In times of crisis, we've always used a single motto to avoid catastrophe: What would Matt Lauer do?  Instantly, we remembered the Today Show segment on rip tides.  Matt instructed us, when swimming forward doesn't work, to swim parallel to the shore until the ocean is calm enough that you can get back to the beach.  We swam forward.  Then we heard a whistle.  We looked to the shore, where a lifeguard had spotted us.  Then we were really scared: if emergency personnel thought we were in trouble, then we must really be drowning.  Quickly, we raised our arms over our head and waved to him.  He and a buddy swam towards me with little floaties and came to my rescue.  (Pictures to come later once Alex R. and Costas C. are no longer stranded at the airport in Atlanta). We swam back to shore, although it took the three of us a while to get back, even with the floatation devices.

Fortunately, the event went from being 90% scary and 10% funny to 90% funny and 10% scary in a matter of moments.  In fact, we think the lifeguards were a little perplexed to see me laughing as we returned to the shore.  All in all, we had a great trip, are less tan than we had hoped to be, and plan to pay a little more attention in the future when urinating.

Kisses, and happy New Year to the kids. 

Comments

[FHC himself...yes... yes]

I myself wanted to dress as a drowned sailor for Christmas ! Well done L. You outdid yourself.

[fishwatch]

If you had drowned, would I have gotten your spot in professional responsibility?

[Sushi]

How ironic, mother just booked reservations in Playa del Carmen and Cozumel for next Christmas/New Years. I imagine the Mexican version of Baywatch to be much hotter.

[Carlos U.]

I have to say LL, I really do love the use of the royal “we.” It’s the one thing I have to look forward to in your postings!