Tuesday April 6, 2010.

This morning I had to take another Discover SCUBA class in the resort pool with the guy who was going to be supervising the dive today. This meant another theory lesson and a bunch of skills in the swimming pool with the gear on. Exactly what I just completed in San Diego. Twice already. In the group was a woman whose son was the skipper of the boat we were taking out, myself and another couple. After we went through all of the laminated plastic sheets explaining inflation and deflation and why we can’t touch the coral reef, things went a little haywire. I had already told him that I was a little nervous in the water and he asked me if someone was making me do this.

Here is our conversation:

Me: “How deep will we go? Because my camera will only go under 10 meters.”

Instructor: “I can’t guarantee that we will stay at 10 meters. We might go deeper like to 12 meters”

Me: “Hmmm, so you can’t guarantee that we won’t go the extra 6 feet?”

Instructor: “No. And besides that I usually don’t allow first time students to bring a camera with them. It is unsafe and you will not be concentrating on the other things. I will have to see how you do in the pool and then I will decide”

Me: “Ooooohhhh that is not an option for me.”

Instructor: “You don’t want to do the dive without a camera?”

Me: “Correct.”

Other lady: “Well, you know they have videos and pictures you can buy at the gift shop.”

Me: “Yeah, I am going to go ahead and just snorkel today. How do I go about getting a refund?”

Instructor: “Are you sure it’s that and not something else?”

Me: “Yeah the whole point of this is the photography.”

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Here’s the thing: obviously I was never really comfortable with any of it. I really have no intention of being a professional underwater photographer and the reason I was even doing this is to say that I went all the way to the Great Barrier Reef and dove. I have to be honest with you… I am completely at peace with this decision and I have no regrets whatsoever. I might try SCUBA again in the future, when I can dive Catalina Island and not worry about missing out on any photo ops. But there was no fucking way in hell that I was going to sit through the hour and a half training session in that pool to have that guy tell me I couldn’t bring my camera down. I would rather save the $90 dive fee and just snorkel. We were taking the same boat out anyways, and I was surely not going to miss the opportunity to photograph something, anything out there on the reef. Make sense? Sure, you can think that I am a chicken shit…I am not going to lie… I was scared to death. But to me, it’s all about the shot. I would never take up climbing to get to the top of Mount Everest without a camera. It’s just the way it is.

We took the boat to a spot called The Blue Pearl Bay. They made us suit up in the goofy stinger suits, which I was fine with because it was cold as hell in that water and I would prefer not to be one of the 4 people in the last 100 years to die of a jellyfish sting. They even have little mittens.

I don’t even know what to say about this photo, it is so damn funny.

Pete

Ann Marie

You can see how close the fish come to you. In fact, at one point I kind of freaked out because I was swarmed by them. The stinger suit kept bubbling and I wasn’t sure if it was air bubbles or the fish nipping at me. Weird feeling for sure.

This is your brain at the Great Barrier Reef.

Oh hi there huge ass grouper!

99% of my photos look like this with a fish swimming away and me only catching the tail of it.

Am I Jacques Cousteau? Not at all. I was using a point and shoot camera, but I am satisfied and had a blast in the water for the short hour. I could have stayed there all day. It was a bit crowded with too many snorkelers kicking each other in the head and shit, and visibility was not very good due to the rain and the clouds, but we still saw some cool stuff. We stopped off at Henning Island for a quick snack before heading back to the marina.

Happy hour at the local tavern.

Apparently this guy is on the Dancing with the Stars Australia version. I was in the bathroom when everyone was talking to him about it. Here is his website though.

I am trying to see how many fish eye animal shots I can get this trip without getting pecked, punched or rabies.

Cockatoos do not like hugs from pink monkeys. FYI.

For dinner we went to Romano’s (the island is so small you have a choice of hotel restaurants, the steak place, the seafood place or the Italian place. Choose wisely)

I ordered the risotto with duck confit and wild mushrooms and it was very good, but a tiny bit bland. I just added a little salt and was good to go.

For dessert I had the pannacotta, which was average until I took that passion fruit you see on the left and smeared it around with each bite. Then it was magical. I can’t wait to start on a new food obsession back in the states. I hope I can find passion fruit wherever I go.

March 19, 2010

In 2003 I went to an adult industry tradeshow on the island of Curacao. (pics here) It’s about 40 miles north of Venezuela and is a beautiful quaint island with a strong Dutch influence. Interestingly enough (I forgot to mention this yesterday) that was the one and only time that I had ever attempted to SCUBA. One of the big sponsoring companies was offering a day trip full of activities which included feeding sea turtles and sharks and swimming with dolphins and manta rays. Swimming with dolphins was amazing! It was a really neat experience and I highly recommend it if you ever have a chance to do it. The water is shallow enough, they are not aggressive at all and they love to swim beside you. (obvi) They looped around the pool over and over and nudged us to keep swimming. If you got tired you moved to the edge of the pool and they go nudge someone else.  It was peaceful and made you feel like Jacque fucking Cousteau. However, the rest our days activities included a stinky wetsuit, breathing apparatus, tanks, fins, mask and a basket full of dead fish. I was hungover, wasn’t paying attention to the instructor during the 20 minute SCUBA lesson and once we got into the water I realized the sea turtles were trying to bite my damn fingers off if I put them near the top of the chain link fence separating us. Coupled with the instructor warning me to be careful and not step on the surface of the ocean because of the fish that like to bite and the giant grouper heading towards me the size of Moby Dick… well… needless to say….  I didn’t last very long out there. 2 other girls flipped out and we all frantically swam back to the shore.

Sooooo, prior to me leaving on that trip, boss-man made me promise to do one Bikram yoga class. (If you are unaware of this type of yoga and are too lazy to click that link, I will tell you that it’s conducted in a room heated to 120 degrees and consists of 26 poses that are repeated twice. They look pretty simple, but I can assure you that the human body doesn’t do most of that naturally and without a lot of practice. Oh, and people who do Bikram regularly are like cultists.) I went to the school in Old Town and had a very mean and very strict lady as my teacher. She even went so far as to follow this one dude out to the bathroom when he ran out to vomit. I could hear her talking through her microphone in the studio while she was calling out to him in the men’s bathroom to come back to the class and stick it out. There was another guy who was recovering from knee surgery and she was riding his ass about a pose that he was doing wrong. It was an awkward experience and I never went back.

It’s funny that 7 years later I am attempting to conquer both of these “fears” (for lack of a better word.) I am ready to take on new challenges in life and ready to get past the mental obstacles stopping me from whatever it is that intimidates me. I can no longer use the excuse that I don’t have time to do Bikram.

I attended the 6:30 am class and the teacher was very nice and helpful and of course singled me out so that she could assist me with any confusion I might have about proper posture or posing. She even warned me in the first pose not to strain too hard. This woman was great and I had a great experience. I didn’t even think about wearing my contact lenses and my glasses got hot and were steamed up pretty quickly. I actually had to take them off for many of the poses and as you know, I am fucking blind. I never really got the nauseas feeling that I had last time, perhaps because I was in the first class of the day and maybe the room isn’t quite as hot as a 4:30 pm class mid-summer. It’s quiet, stinky and you can hear the sweat droplets hitting the mat of the people next to you. It is an intense workout for not moving very much and one that burns approximately 1000 calories for someone of my weight. 90 minutes of pure hell, but goddamn it 1000 calories is a long time at the gym doing tedious cardio that I hate.  Even though I have never gone through labor I like to describe Bikram as if it’s like those women who scream in pain and curse their husbands and boyfriends and swear up and down they will never go through anything like that ever again… and then miraculously, when the baby comes out and it’s all over, they say that they will do it again in a heartbeat. Bikram heated yoga is the same thing to me. I wanted to die. My head was throbbing and I felt like I couldn’t go on another minute without fainting and yet, when it was done… I felt amazing and wanted to do it again 4 hours late. (As I write this the next day my leg and neck muscles are getting more sore and tighter by the minute. Ouch.)

I took the train to LA and met my friend Ben for lunch at a French place called Church and State. The food was fucking amazing and several times we caught ourselves saying “That was the best ______ that I have ever had.” The steak tartare was great. I actually added a little bit of salt to mine, but it was pretty damn good on it’s own.

Ben had the sea-bass (Loup de Mer a la Grenobloise) with small cauliflower bits. I made the waiter ask the chef what was in it so I could share it with you all: butter, lemon, capers, parsley, chicken stock and the secret twist was reconstituted raisins in a muscat. I would totally have licked the plate but it wasn’t mine and I didn’t want to freak Ben or the waiter out too bad.

I had the roasted chicken (Poulet Roti) with Brussel Sprouts, small diced ham chunks in a red wine sauce. It was delicious, but did not compare to the sauce of the sea-bass dish.

The cappuccino was out of this world also. Go check this place out for sure. It is super loud if you go during the lunch rush, so if you are looking to do some chitchatting I would hit it after 2:30 pm. It was good to catch up with Ben. He is an amazing photographer who has been working in adult for years but is recently taking the time to work on some cool fine art projects to further his mainstream career. He does weddings, fashion and is working on a project now called Project1site.com where he forces himself to create at least one fine art image every single day for a year. He started on January 1^st and will end on December 31^st. Some days are tough… when you want to curl up in a ball and go to bed because you worked 12 hours and have a head cold, you still have to make that shot. I admire his determination.  I hope that someday we can work together again professionally, whatever that may be.

After lunch we went to Little Tokyo and walked around for a bit before 818 picked me up. Ben and I said our goodbyes and I promised to be in touch as soon as I got back from Australia. 818 and I headed back to his place and I made a reservation for dinner at a placed I had been wanting to try called Lucques on Melrose. I took a quick nap before we were supposed to meet up with Puma Swede and Keiran Lee. At approximately 8:22 as we were walking out the door to meet them for an 8:30 dinner reservation the door slammed shut and 818 realized that he had locked his keys in the apartment. AND his roommate was all the way in Torrance on her way to San Diego for the weekend. Oh that is just awesome. (sound of record scratching) Call the restaurant and cancel the table, Puma and Keiran pick me up while he waits for roommate to come back. We then drive to Katsu-ya to put our name in at 9:10 for a 45 minute to one hour wait. No biggie, that is another place in LA I wanted to try. I kept hearing how it’s the best sushi in the Valley. So we go over to Fox and Hounds for a beer and then head back to the sushi bar in about 45 minutes. ANOTHER FORTY FIVE MINUTES LATER we finally get seated. The food was decent but was definitely not worth an hour and a half wait. The only interesting looking thing we ordered was this soft shell crab thingy with a creamy spicy sauce and it was still pretty average.

Puma was very well behaved and didn’t try to grope me or molest me at all. Now I am beginning to think that it is all Nikki Benz. Hmmmm. Or she read my blog from last time and saw how annoyed I was.

They are such a loving couple.

HA! They are actually both certifiably insane. But I love ‘em!

We thought we would play switcheroo tonight and maybe mix things up a bit. Umm, just kidding.

On a side note, while 818 and I were sitting in the lobby of his building waiting for the key debacle to be resolved I asked him if he cared to know the itinerary for our trip next week. He said “Nah.” I love that he is just going with the flow and trusting me. The only thing he knows is that we are flying to Sydney first and ending in Auckland NZ and driving around in a motorhome for 4 days. We are both a little bit of control freaks so I am amazed that he is not even concerned about this. It is teaching me a valuable lesson in letting go.

Friday March 18, 2010

I realized a few weeks ago that I wasn’t going to be able to be fully SCUBA certified in time unless I took the private 40 hour class for the low-low price of $1200. No thank you, I will dive with an instructor tethered to me. To be honest, I was relieved at the idea of having assistance while diving and being able to concentrate on shooting pictures rather than not drowning. Upon the advice of 818, who has been certified for years, I made an appointment to get comfortable in the water with the gear and practice the whole act of diving/breathing underwater. I went to Dive California and had Michael training me on this lovely Friday morning. He reminded me that I spent 9 months breathing underwater and that this was actually a very normal thing, I just needed to retrain myself how to do it. Well shit, if you put it that way…. how can I chicken out??

I was fine at first. I wanted to cheat and put the mask on but Michael wouldn’t let me, that prick. He wanted me to practice going under and breathing with the regulator and not letting water get into my nose. Pretty basic concept, but much easier when something is actually blocking the nostrils. I did it over and over and finally got the hang of it. I really don’t know when the multiple panic attacks started and stopped, they were just happening a lot. I would go in and out of feeling comfortable and freaking out at various times. It was weird because I would be doing fine and then just WIG OUT about something and dart to the surface, rip the mask off and rip the regulator out of my mouth for no reason. My fin might get caught on the bottom of the pool sending me into a state of panic. It was not a fun experience for the first hour in the water. At one point I was actually crying and telling him that I was most likely going to call it a day and just snorkel in Australia. He then informed me that snorkeling was even tougher and that it would be even more irregular and difficult. He asked if I really wanted to go all that way and miss out on so many photographic opportunities when I had already been breathing underwater just fine only 10 minutes ago?

FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK

FINE! I had to pee and maybe that was distracting me. I got out of the pool and schlepped my ass in my wetsuit to the bathroom and I swear to God I considered just taking it off and putting my clothes on and leaving through the front door but I realized my glasses were in the pool area. Ok I am kidding… it didn’t really get that far at that moment. I mean, I did consider calling it a day several times but managed to calm my nerves down each time. When I went to the restroom I looked in the mirror and called myself a bunch of names (I mostly said “Stop being a fucking pussy!”) and went back to the pool.

Michael was an amazing instructor, very patient and after 3 hours in that pool, I was done with all of the exercises we had to complete to finish the Discover SCUBA training. But then it happened again, when I was sent out to the deep end to do all of the exercises again on my own while he watched from a distance …I freaked out. By this time I was hungry, getting frustrated with my own anxieties, a cramp was forming in my leg and I had realized how long we were in the pool and was feeling bad about it. I asked if I he had time to see me again on Monday so we have an appointment to try this all over again. I am sure it will be easier this next time. As I was driving my car home I thought how difficult it was when I first took the wheel  and thinking how scary it was to be operating a motor vehicle. And how now I can eat, text, have conversations, fiddle with the radio all while driving. It just has to become a habit.

I kept reminding myself about the womb. I spent 9 months doing this, it will be fine. Just be calm. Remember the amazing things you are going to see. Remember that 818 will make fun of you and never let you live this down. Remember that you have jumped out of airplanes before. Remember that you did not trek all over the fucking world hitting every single continent to chicken out and not dive the Great Barrier Reef when you got to #7. You can do this Laura, you can do this.

818 had sent me a text saying “Have fun in the water” and then the girl at the register asked me if I had fun when I was walking out the door. Hey guys, I wouldn’t exactly call panic attacks and tears a “fun morning” but thanks for asking.

On another note, here is a kitty sunning himself in Ocean Beach. It appears as though his day is much less stressful then mine.