So I was reminded today that I have not yet shared with you my experience from last weekend.

You guys saw the pics from the Saturday trip, which was definitely fun. On Monday, we (the Family von N plus the Drinkslinger) decided to do an after-work trip. It was a beautiful day, nice and hot but not TOO hot, and the water was awesome. Calm, clear, and not TOO cold.

But still cold.

Seriously.

So, as I am wont to do at times, I decided that I would hop in for a swim. I beleive that it was in recompense for dumping my entire red Solo cup of Gewurztraminer on the boat’s dashboard, or instrument panel, or whatever the hell it’s called. Obviously, the Family had been expecting antics of this sort, but I still felt bad and somehow decided that throwing myself into the Puget Sound was a fitting repayment for the crime.

So I hopped in. Or rather, dove. Sort of.

Now, see, I’m a pretty good swimmer. I’m by no means Olympic style, okay? But I can swim from point A to point B and I can tread water for a while. Generally enough to do what I gotta do.

At any rate, I dive. When I surface, the first thing I do is scream, because don’t you know, that water is fucking COLD. Next thing I do is curse a little, because as stated, the water is fucking COLD.

Then I turn around, and I’m like, oh, ten feet from the boat. No big deal. I start to swim back.

I’m swimming, I’m swimming, I’m swimming.

Swim, swim, swim. My arms are going, I’m kicking, I’m kicking, I’m feeling pretty good, until…

I look up and I’m like, FIFTEEN feet from the boat, even though I was swimming (as I mentioned).

I’m starting to get a little worried here. I shoulda looked before I leaped, because there’s a bitchin’ current that rides right past where we were anchored, and I was stuck right in it.

I yell for them to stop the boat from moving. What good this would do, I don’t know.

They ask me if I need a life preserver. I’m like, “Dudes! I was swimming! I’m not getting anywhere, and you guys are getting further away! A life preserver would be fuckin’ GRRREAT!”

There’s some conversation and three-way consultation on the boat as they ponder options and attempt to tie the rope to the life preserver. Meanwhile, I stop swimming, because frankly, it’s not doing me any good, and I’m getting a little tired and thinking I should preserve my energy for actually staying afloat here.

I wait a couple minutes, then a friendly “Hurry, please!” reminder.

I wait. There is obviously activity going on, can’t quite see what it is. 1N is shouting asking if I’m okay, and No N is attaching the rope to the life preserver, while the Drinkslinger is emptying his pockets in preparation for playing Superman to my damsel in distress.

I’m now, like, twenty or twenty-five feet from the boat and starting to get a little anxious.

Just a little.

“HURRY PLEASE!” Yeah, that’s definitely desperation.

Finally, the rope is abandoned and the Drinkslinger hurls the life preserver out to me which is like an orange seat cushion with straps, and I paddle out to it (no more swim swim swimming here, the water is EFFING COLD!) and hang on.

They yank up the anchor and turn the boat around and come fish my sorry ass out of the water and into the safety of the boat, where I immediately pour another Solo cup of wine to dispel the shaking. I also hugged everyone, because dammit, I almost drowned.

Holy crap! That would have been an ignominious demise to your fave blogger-friend. Aren’t you glad I have such quick-thinking friends that stay cool under pressure?

I am.