Laura Dvorak 5:47 p.m., Dec. 6
Maybe it's the water temperature turning cooler, or the impending arrival of winter... but a funky fog has settled over San Diego. Everyone around me is in a mood. My co-workers are grumpy, my friends are complaining, people on the freeway are cutting each other off with fiercer vengeance.
A friend of mine is in such a funk, it's become nearly impossible for her to break free from it. She's waiting for something to happen. Something good to fall out the sky. Some generous fortune to bring a big change to her life. I've been feeling lost in the fog too. My bank account is dwindling, I'm falling behind on homework that won't stop piling up, and I can't even take a nap without my pesky cat sitting on my chest and meowing for an hour straight. But today I had a realization about why I'm not drowning in the misery like everyone else seems to be.
Everyone around me appears to be obsessed with what's wrong, and wondering why fate hasn't swooped in to make it right. But surfing has actually kept me afloat and my focus on the small, hilarious eccentricities in my life that keep my cracking up.
It's hard to be a grouchy bitch when the ocean is slapping you and your friends around in the most unflattering, ridiculous ways. Whether the waves are ripping my rashguard off, smacking me in the face, or tangling seaweed into my mane of hair and plastering it to my face... I can't help but laugh. A buddy of mine is always saying that surfing is such a humbling sport. Oh man is he right. I am the poster girl for being humbled by the big blue. I couldn't even stand up straight from laughing so hard when me and my wahine roommate went surfing yesterday. We both caught the same wave and instead of one of us bailing out, both us just froze and we screamed in unison and terror all the way into the whitewash for fear of slamming into each other. Ridiculous. And hilarious.
Surfing is keeping me light-hearted through the fog. Getting out in the ocean forces me to forget everything else in the world. The moment I lose focus, the sea sends a monster wave to slap my attention back to the line-up. The power of the ocean makes me realize my own insignificance. It's hard to take myself seriously -- or fret about work, or bad moods, or life not dealing me cupcakes and roses - in the middle of the rolling, pitching, sometimes terrifying water. And being a beginner, the situations I seem to get myself into keep me laughing and the worries rolling off my back all day.