I went cliff diving on Sunday. I doubt I'll ever go again unless it's with people I love and trust and won't ever get horrifyingly angry at them if they push me off a cliff. Literally.
So... never again, then.
On Sunday morning I went on a first date with a guy I'd never met. We carpooled out to Waimea Bay and I made sure my island friends knew where we were going just in case they needed to look for my body later. I always have this type of humor before going on dates. I blame my mother... but I digress...
So! Moving on...
As we are driving out this guy's telling me about what he did yesterday (which was free climbing by Makapu'u Lighthouse where waves were trying to kill him) and entertaining me with fun facts about arachnids (did you know a daddy long leg isn't actually a spider?) and about how the smaller the creature the more likely it's poison is to kill you (such as with scorpions and snakes. He knows rattlesnake babies are super poisonous -- he has the week stay in the hospital and the scar on his wrist to prove it). He also doesn't own a computer or buy WiFi. He owns over 200 DVDs. He's got the cool 70s, 80s music going in the CD player. I'm really liking his vibe.
We get to Waimea Bay and it's sprinkling. Which is fine in hawaii. If we were in Washington I'd be chickening out and sighting a headache. And, come on, it can't be worse than jumping out of an airplane, right?
We get to the rock, leave or stuff on the beach, and start climbing to the top.
This is worse than jumping out of an airplane.
Because I can't just step off.
Oh, no. No, no, no.
You have to bend your knees and jump. You have to commit to the action. You have to take a literal leap of faith.
I did it, though. And I screamed like the little girl I really am. I even did it two more times after that. On the third jump, climbing back up the cliff, the ocean decided she didn't care for me and she shoved me onto the rock and then grabbed me back. I then landed on more rocks and got a lovely bruise for my troubles.
The bruise would have been fine if it hadn't been on my thigh. My biggest muscle was now slowing but surely turning purple. I know I bruise easy and I knew this would be a doozy in a few days. (I was right; see picture.)
So. I jumped three times and climbed back for a fourth. I then proceeded to psych myself out. 1) the wind picked up and I had to crouch in order to feel like I had some control and keep my balance, 2) I kept losing my bikini top while plunging into the ocean (I guess I need to find a sports bra type of top? Anyone have any good suggestions?), 3) I didn't think I could keep up with the waves with my emerging bruise, and 4) that was actually really, really, really high up...
So I walked down.
He drove me home. We chatted a bit. He showed me pictures of food he liked to cook (it looked delicious and I was ravenous after all the water sports). He said something about a shower, I said something about a nap. We parted ways.
I don't think he's going to call me. But that's ok because I've found someone with bigger balls than me. And he can keep them.
Aloha from Oahu!
XOXO
Lisa










