My friend Julie recently survived an attack from a horrible, enormous, human-eating sea creature while swimming in the Cayman Islands (to see the creature, click here). My friend Stacey also recently survived a terrible, near-death experience with a deadly cobra-viper-anaconda in her bedroom (to read about her experience, click here. Trust me, you want to click on the link).
That got me thinking that perhaps I have friends who are just too adventurous - you know, swimming in the open waters of the Cayman Islands and wrestling deadly black mambas at 4 a.m. But then again, that got me thinking that perhaps my friends are just freaks who can't really admit that they're ridiculously fearful.
Exactly as I am. Perhaps the reason why we remain friends to date.
So these past few days it's been really warm in Kiel. So warm, that I'm about to openly admit that there is actually summer in Germany. In Kiel, at the very least. So warm, that I've been riding my bike to University every day, without winter underpants, without pantyhose, without anything (barely panties... but that's another blog post!). So warm, that I don't wear even the lightest jacket. So warm, that I was on the brink of complaining earlier today. So warm, that we decided to go to the beach.
You see, I was born in the Caribbean Coast of Colombia. My idea of a beach is white sandy beaches with warm, clear, blue water (blue?). Also, my idea of a beach does not include particularly bathing in it, as my extremely brave friend Julie does, but rather getting my feetsies slightly wet and enjoying a good suntan.
I do that because bodies of water are deadly. Do you not know that the Lock Ness Monster now likes to enjoy swims on the coasts of the Baltic Sea? Do you now know that Killer Whales can, like, jump on the sand and eat you if you are too close to the water? Do you not know that sharks hide under lumps of sand, waiting for you to step on them so that they may "rightfully" eat you? Do you not know that merpeople are evil and they want to kill us all? And don't get me started talking about killer squids, and killer crabs, and killer fishies and killer plankton. And killer plants. Ok, they don't kill, but they sure are yucky!
But, in spite of all my warnings, Honey decided that not only were we going to the beach, but that we were also bathing. Both of us. Together.
My first reaction was to go along with it, thinking that once we got there, I could do something to distract him, you know, make him forget that he wanted me to die in the water with the killer animals. Then, my second reaction was to just ignore him. I mean, he can't make me... can he?
We got there, and I said I wanted to take a walk on the pier - it was, after all, my first day on a German beach. Looking down into the water, look at what I saw:
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking just the same thing I was thinking: OMG! A giant killer squid thingy! Don't patronize me, and don't you dare roll your eyes at me. Loook real closely - you can totally, absolutely see the colossal, huge, terrorificly enourmous squid thingy somewhere there. And if not, use your imagination. It was huge, with teeth and claws. And when it looked at me, it winked and smiled, as if savouring me. I bet its mouth watered when it imagined chewing on my Latina Flesh.
It looked like this.
But there was not only one. Oh, no. No no. There were so many, so many in fact, that Brave I-Fear-Nothing-Honey suggested we go to another beach. I felt triumphant, but said, "As you wish, Honey."
We went to another beach, which aside from a family of swans and a few ducks, was apparently animal-free.
After much debating and discussing, I ended up joining Honey in the water.
Let me explain something to you: when I wrote about the killer animals that lurk the beaches in search of ME to eat, I meant it. I have that fear. For real. I really do believe that merpeople are just waiting to come get me. I really believe there is a shark coming for me. And I really believe the Lock Ness Monster is not only in Lock Ness.
BUT -
and here comes the amazing part...
... the water was SO FREAKING COLD, I totally forgot about the animals. And about the killer plankton, too.
That is, I forgot because my brain was frozen. And then I saw this little creature by my side, and all my fears came running back to me:
Ok, so this one here is a glass cage in an aquarium - yeah, forgive me for not having my camera at arm's reach when almost being devoured by a Natalya-eating creature and not taking a picture of it for you to enjoy.
Man, it was huge. Seriously. Tentacles exceeding 10 meters (which, in American = 300 million feet), a mouth filled with teeth, and claws in every - uh, in every... yeah. Claws everywhere.
I screamed, I yelled - I made such a scandal that I frightened the Lock Ness Monster and the Killer Whale and the Shark and the Killer Plankton away.
Honey came running to my rescue - running, mostly, because that gave him cart blanche to splash me and get me all wet with that frozen water. When he saw my attacker, he fearlessly took hold of it to save me.
He took hold of it. He's so brave.
And then he showed me this little, tiny, miniscule thingy, no larger than an inch in diameter... which was, btw, dead.
And that, my dear reader, was my near-death experience, and this tale was absolutely devoid of hyperbole.
That got me thinking that perhaps I have friends who are just too adventurous - you know, swimming in the open waters of the Cayman Islands and wrestling deadly black mambas at 4 a.m. But then again, that got me thinking that perhaps my friends are just freaks who can't really admit that they're ridiculously fearful.
Exactly as I am. Perhaps the reason why we remain friends to date.
So these past few days it's been really warm in Kiel. So warm, that I'm about to openly admit that there is actually summer in Germany. In Kiel, at the very least. So warm, that I've been riding my bike to University every day, without winter underpants, without pantyhose, without anything (barely panties... but that's another blog post!). So warm, that I don't wear even the lightest jacket. So warm, that I was on the brink of complaining earlier today. So warm, that we decided to go to the beach.
You see, I was born in the Caribbean Coast of Colombia. My idea of a beach is white sandy beaches with warm, clear, blue water (blue?). Also, my idea of a beach does not include particularly bathing in it, as my extremely brave friend Julie does, but rather getting my feetsies slightly wet and enjoying a good suntan.
I do that because bodies of water are deadly. Do you not know that the Lock Ness Monster now likes to enjoy swims on the coasts of the Baltic Sea? Do you now know that Killer Whales can, like, jump on the sand and eat you if you are too close to the water? Do you not know that sharks hide under lumps of sand, waiting for you to step on them so that they may "rightfully" eat you? Do you not know that merpeople are evil and they want to kill us all? And don't get me started talking about killer squids, and killer crabs, and killer fishies and killer plankton. And killer plants. Ok, they don't kill, but they sure are yucky!
But, in spite of all my warnings, Honey decided that not only were we going to the beach, but that we were also bathing. Both of us. Together.
My first reaction was to go along with it, thinking that once we got there, I could do something to distract him, you know, make him forget that he wanted me to die in the water with the killer animals. Then, my second reaction was to just ignore him. I mean, he can't make me... can he?
We got there, and I said I wanted to take a walk on the pier - it was, after all, my first day on a German beach. Looking down into the water, look at what I saw:
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking just the same thing I was thinking: OMG! A giant killer squid thingy! Don't patronize me, and don't you dare roll your eyes at me. Loook real closely - you can totally, absolutely see the colossal, huge, terrorificly enourmous squid thingy somewhere there. And if not, use your imagination. It was huge, with teeth and claws. And when it looked at me, it winked and smiled, as if savouring me. I bet its mouth watered when it imagined chewing on my Latina Flesh.
It looked like this.
But there was not only one. Oh, no. No no. There were so many, so many in fact, that Brave I-Fear-Nothing-Honey suggested we go to another beach. I felt triumphant, but said, "As you wish, Honey."
We went to another beach, which aside from a family of swans and a few ducks, was apparently animal-free.
After much debating and discussing, I ended up joining Honey in the water.
Let me explain something to you: when I wrote about the killer animals that lurk the beaches in search of ME to eat, I meant it. I have that fear. For real. I really do believe that merpeople are just waiting to come get me. I really believe there is a shark coming for me. And I really believe the Lock Ness Monster is not only in Lock Ness.
BUT -
and here comes the amazing part...
... the water was SO FREAKING COLD, I totally forgot about the animals. And about the killer plankton, too.
That is, I forgot because my brain was frozen. And then I saw this little creature by my side, and all my fears came running back to me:
Ok, so this one here is a glass cage in an aquarium - yeah, forgive me for not having my camera at arm's reach when almost being devoured by a Natalya-eating creature and not taking a picture of it for you to enjoy.
Man, it was huge. Seriously. Tentacles exceeding 10 meters (which, in American = 300 million feet), a mouth filled with teeth, and claws in every - uh, in every... yeah. Claws everywhere.
I screamed, I yelled - I made such a scandal that I frightened the Lock Ness Monster and the Killer Whale and the Shark and the Killer Plankton away.
Honey came running to my rescue - running, mostly, because that gave him cart blanche to splash me and get me all wet with that frozen water. When he saw my attacker, he fearlessly took hold of it to save me.
He took hold of it. He's so brave.
And then he showed me this little, tiny, miniscule thingy, no larger than an inch in diameter... which was, btw, dead.
And that, my dear reader, was my near-death experience, and this tale was absolutely devoid of hyperbole.
Comments
Post a Comment