sleep away camp

The past few weeks have been hectic. I was gifted a pass one day for the boat show, so I headed to the show to renew my unlimited towing policy with TowBoatUS. Renewing at the show got me a 10% discount, not much perhaps, but every little bit helps these days. I didn't look at boats at the show, and rarely do. Just doesn't interest me. I'm really only there to see the vendor tents. One interesting product I saw was SoftSand, rubber particles for mixing with paint for non-skid decks. The pup doesn't like walking on the decks so I've condsidered doing non-skid paint, but it is often done with sand, which holds heat and can make decks uncomfortably hot if you like to go barefoot. The rubber particles won't have that same effect, so I think they will be a great option. Other than that, the boat show was the same old thing and once you've seen one, you've sort of seen them all. I did buy a whopping two $2 sail ties to add to my small collection.

The following weekend the pup dog went to "sleep away camp," or really, went camping with a friend and his daughter, who had been missing the pup dog after having puppy-sat during my trip. I wasn't able to get away to go camping with them, but I packed Buttercup an overnight bag with bowls, toys, food, treats, leashes, a towel, and a snuggle blanket. Yep, I'm a smother-mother. I've been battling a sinus infection or cold off and on since that weekend, so I'm glad pup got to go have fun rather than just hang around with me sick in bed that whole weekend.

My professional face paint for my halloween makeup arrived. I ordered it from Mehron, which appears to be cruelty free. I'm running short of time to practice, so need to do another practice run tonight, but my first practice run with the face paint went well. I picked up a smaller brush to make the lines across my face for teeth finer, and it should also work well for small dots and other little details. I also have glitter and glue-on rhinestones, which I haven't experimented with yet. I had really hoped to go out in costume tonight to see John Brown's body, one of my fav bands, up in Baltimore. But with no car and little cash, it looks like that isn't happening.

When I did the practice run it was a Friday night and the face paint had arrived that afternoon. I decided to just stay in for the night with a bottle of wine and practice the make-up. I had finished it and was just hanging out on the boat when Max came zooming in and out. He was acting oddly and when I got a closer look I saw he had a mouse in his mouth. While he was on the deck with it I scurried out and closed the hatch so he couldn't take it back inside. While Hunter is a hella mouser, this was Max's first. My baby cat is all grown up!

While I was out on deck with a glass of wine and my face all painted some folks visiting town for the boat show walked by. We started chatting and they asked if I'd be willing to take them out for a day sail that Sunday or knew anyone who would. Apparently all the charters around town were already booked; there are surprisingly few out there, too. I explained that I really couldn't do it (my boat's too much of a wreck right now and I don't have a captain's license to be able to do it legally). But I suggested they wander down to Davis' and ask around. They convinced me to head there with them for a drink; thanks and cheers Mark and Kim! I guess they'll have a good boat show story about some goofy girl in her Halloween make-up, or maybe everyone will just think they had too many Painkillers!

So I rolled on over to the pub in my wild sugar skull make-up. People didn't even recognize me until they saw my insanely long hair. I tried to round up someone to take Mark and Kim sailing, but no luck. After they headed out I chatted for a long time with a guy with the most adorable dimples you've ever seen. No floppy hair and a good 10-15 years older than my usual, but he was fun to talk with and wasn't fazed by my ghoulish appearance. But one minute he was showing me photos of his daughters and the next he just disappeared.  

That left me sitting at the bar next to a creepy guy trying to pick me up. He asked me what I was doing later. I looked at the clock: 1:30AM; it is later I explained, and I would be heading home to get a good night's sleep. Then he just straight out propositioned me and said he'd "make love to my dead face." Eeeks. Check please! Drunk as he was I guess he felt that might have been awkward (ya think?) but I politely thanked him for the offer, and said no thanks, I'd pass. Everyone wants to be wanted. It's flattering. But there comes a point when it is pretty tiring to feel like all anyone, everyone, wants is to get in your pants. But I have to admit, that make-up is pretty sexy, right? Sigh.

It had been a year since I had had a haircut and I needed to find a new stylist since my beloved one recently passed away. I did lots of research about DevaCurl and found a stylist for a special curl-friendly DevaCut. Dawn at Morgan Gerard Salon in Annapolis was great. Before and after photos below. My hair feels so much healthier with all that old growth gone. I love the DevaCurl products, but will have to wait until next month for the cash to buy them. So, making due for now, and very happy with the cut.

Although I loved having really long hair it was too much. The ends were dry and frazzled from having been colored (currently it is totally natural), blown dry, and flat-ironed for years. It would get caught on the Velcro on my foulies (probably still will, but not quite as much). My arms would get tired doing my beautiful french braids. It was time to let go. I liked the long mermaid hair, but the length and weight were weighing the curls down and I was finally ready to embrace them!

Out being silly. Raawwrr!

I was out with a friend Saturday night, after having gotten up early to tend bar at an event all day. I was exhausted and figured it'd be an early night so I could get up in the morning and knock out a needed long run. But just when my friend was heading out, I ended up running into the guy with the cute dimples. Let's just remember that my life has been a series of tragically bad decisions, generally about men and career. Thus, I have no guy and no career. (But more importantly, I have me, my pack, and my freedom.) 

Not that this was a bad decision on that level. But I really have to remember that no guy, absolutely no guy, is worth missing a long run for or being a bad mom to my furry kids over. But I left the hatch open and the cats running loose for around 11 hours because I didn't get back to my boat until almost 5:00AM. Which is when I needed to be waking up to knock out a 14 mile run that has been pushed back and pushed back on my schedule to the point of being seriously behind on my training for a 50K that is just over 7 weeks away.  I really consider my body a VIP room and not just everyone gets in, but every once in a while curiosity gets the better of me and I can't help myself. I knew at the time that I should have headed home, but we all have moments of weakness and it was nice to hang out with a smart guy for a change. (The boy toy who fell overboard was painfully dumb.) But if it's going to be meaningless, then I'd rather they were young and dumb. Maybe it won't end up having been totally meaningless, I enjoyed his smile and his company, but I'm not holding my breath.

I make a point of not getting involved with anyone I meet at my local pub because it's my place that I just want to feel at ease. I did meet the floppy-haired sailor there two years ago, but he was the only one, and I knew from the outset that he was just passing through and wouldn't be a fixture there. I should have followed my own advice because running into the guy with the dimples at the pub was exactly that uncomfortable situation I wanted to avoid in my local watering hole. Instead of picking up where we left off after a long night and a beautiful dinghy ride under the stars at 4:30AM, there was that awkward distance that seems to nullify and debase the intimacy and closeness I felt, reveals that they were just an illusion in a passing moment of passion. That feeling is also so sad, knowing that I sell myself short. Any Homeland fans out there? Saul has a great line telling Carrie "You're the smartest and the dumbest person I know." Yep, that's me. 

I deserve someone who is crazy about me. I definitely don't want a guy whose world revolves around me; I've been there, done that, and can't handle the pressure to be responsible for someone else's happiness. But I do deserve someone whose eyes light up when he sees me. Someone who appreciates that I am bat-shit crazy, because it may be a wild ride, but it will never be dull. Someone who doesn't need me to lift him up, and who doesn't pull me down. Two whole, independent people who are just better together. Someday I will find that. 

A special shout out to fellow mermaid, Julia. Thanks for reading and thanks for your kind words. Don't let them get you down!

don't tell me that i won't

For all the naysayers out there. This is currently my personal anthem.

There's just going to come a day that I throw off the lines and go. It won't be the first time I've just headed out, not knowing where I'm going, how I'll get there, or what will be, and it won't be the last. And I am just fine with that. I'm not living my life for anyone else anymore or ever again. I won't be enslaved to my insurmountable student debt or society's expectations. Life is just too short to be spent as a meaningless cog in the wheel, working too hard to buy things we don't need. I find it deeply sad that our economy revolves around convincing people to buy cheap plastic shit from China, filling landfills with it, and then working to the bone to buy more of it.

It isn't always pretty. It doesn't always work the first time. Things don't go as planned. That's life. But I can and will go south with this boat. We will survive, possibly even thrive. Will we have financial success? No, it's a given that is a thing of the past. But I don't care about those measures of success any more. My boat, my pack, and I, we are going to cruise away, make our own way, create our own adventures, and leave the naysayers in our wake.

Heard a little rumor that would make winter aboard far less stressful: the Harbormaster may run the pump out boat on Saturdays through the winter. I jumped for joy and begged the pump out guy to please tell the Harbormaster how important this would be for the many folks who live aboard here in Annapolis even through the winter. So, fingers crossed. I still need to get around to writing a formal letter in support of such a service.

Started to try applying some organization to the boat, though once again my efforts have been derailed due to other pressing time commitments. But I did give the bilge a once-over and vacuumed out all the spider webs, though I still need to get in there with a shop vac to remove the lowest level of water that the bilge pump doesn't reach.

Then I tried to start tackling what seem like bottomless piles of clothes and shoes. But I managed to rationalize my main hanging locker a bit and that will make further progress on that front simpler. Many of the things I need to hang, like dresses, are too long for the hanging locker anyway. I decided to move them to the back of the stateroom door, where they fit perfectly, and convert some of the hanging locker into shelves with a few stacked milk crates. I tucked cat carriers in the space behind the crates. I can't afford to let any space aboard go unused. A hanging shoe organizer fit nicely but was two cubbies too long, so I cut them off. I will probably turn the one salvaged one into a little bag for tools or something.

Last Thursday I had an offer from a very experienced boater friend to come practice docking. We previously had an in-depth theoretical discussion of my docking situation, but now he could come help in person. Although I had a zillion chores for the day, I didn't think twice about putting them aside to seize the opportunity for serious docking lessons. The first stage of the lessons was practicing stopping the boat and practicing approaching mooring balls in reverse. It definitely takes a lot more time for the boat to respond in reverse than in forward, but eventually she does. We also learned that the dog thinks mooring balls need to be fetched. I'm going to blame some of my sloppier approaches in part on trying to keep the dog from jumping overboard as I tried to steer to or between mooring balls. We made five separate approaches to dock in my slip. Two of the five were very good, went just as I envisioned, backing right between the pilings as I wanted. My friend asked me to admit that my last one was "perfect," but I feel like there isn't really any perfect docking situation. But I should accept the compliment and feel a little more confident that I am getting better at handling her in close quarters. Though three of the passes I elected to just head back out and try again, in every case with some maneuvering I could have put her in the slip, and we never hit anything, so all in all, it was a very successful 2.5 hour docking lesson. Thanks, Chris; I truly appreciate all the patience and guidance!

One of my favorite running routes.

Friday I managed to get my buns in gear and run 14 miles. I'm behind on marathon and ultra training, but not too late to get there. I just need to be better about getting in all my "short" runs during the week. They are easy to put off but they are the backbone of training and getting one's legs strong, so I need to get in a good routine to stick with them. It's just a challenge as my schedule is a juggle, but the running is my "me" time so I can eat food I enjoy, get slim and sexy, and generally keep the stress from running me down. The 14-miler wasn't beautiful, though the weather and scenery were, but I knocked it out, took a nice steam afterwards, and wasn't sore the next day. (This week's long run: 16 miles.)

Saturday morning I jammed some Slightly Stoopid and danced around the boat as I baked brownies. Two dozen each Butterscotch Brownies and Cocoa Brownies. The oven is small, so I can only bake one pan-full at a time. I moved the rack up in the oven so the flame wouldn't be so strong on the bottom of the pan, flipped the pan halfway through so the side getting the heat from the flame wouldn't overcook, and timed them very carefully. Definitely the best batches aboard so far and generally very good batches overall. Half of the brownies went in a care package and half are aboard. I need to start giving them away lest I eat them and undermine my hard work running!

I started gifting cookies and cake to local bands and bartenders a couple of summers ago as preventive medicine for my chronic habit of collecting broken, defective, wayward, or hapless guys and trying to nurture and fix them. By giving away my yummy baked goods I could satisfy that drive to nurture, and have a better chance at avoiding taking in the Charlie Brown Christmas Tree of men, the sad-puppy-at-the-pound guy. I admit I have a hopeless weakness for floppy hair; blame it on my first love and my first lover. Being aboard and having less ability to churn out baked goods en masse, I got out of the habit of nurturing through baking and started relapsing into collecting the broken or wayward boys. I really have to get my act together and stop selling myself short. I deserve nothing less than a guy who is going to make damn sure he rocks my world. And I really should hold out not just for that, but for something real and meaningful. Eventually, I'll find a kindred spirit to cruise away with this mermaid. Until then, I'm busy having my own adventures and charting my own course.

Thirty-plus hours of intensive sailing lessons on a 26-footer is not the same as handling my 37-footer. So although I have learned a lot and feel far more comfortable sailing, my boat remains a challenge. Saturday afternoon was supposed to be a nice day sail with friends. Come Saturday morning, however, no one could make it. It was my first chance to sail my boat myself, my first chance since my basic keelboat course, and possibly my last Saturday off work for the foreseeable future. When no one could or would come out, I was crushed. I let myself be pretty upset and disappointed for a bit and then set about salvaging the day with errands and boat chores. Then at the last minute I heard from friends wanting to go out for a sail.

We got a much later start than planned due to schedules and a couple hours of struggling with the jib furler and then just the usual details of taking the boat out, e.g., unplugging from shore power, removing the dog ramp that is tied to the boat and the dock, dropping the dodger so I can see, and removing loose items from the decks. We motored out of Back Creek, having to dodge several sailboats anchored pretty much smack in the middle of the creek where all the boat traffic is trying to transit. I headed out a ways to find a place where the marine traffic was lighter so we could hoist the sails without having to worry so much about avoiding collisions.

After a slow start we managed to get moving, and eventually got up to 5.6 knots under sail. The boat clearly likes sailing a beam reach. However, we had wanted to sail upwind to the south and drop the hook. But try as we might we never could get her close hauled. I suspect a good portion of the problem is that the jib wouldn't trim in beyond a beam reach. The very aft blocks we used for the jib simply wouldn't allow the trim we needed. I had wondered why there were some blocks shackled at the bow to some anchor rode. I also never understood how the cars on the traveler attached to the toe rail could be for sheets since the opening on the cars faces athwartships rather than fore and aft, so they wouldn't be any good at "guiding" the sheet the way some guides along the side deck keep the furling line in order. After Saturday was done and gone I had an "A-ha!" moment in the middle of the night. Those blocks almost certainly need to be shackled to the cars. Then I can adjust the cars on the traveler as needed to help me get the best angle on the jib for the conditions. I'll have to verify that that is the case, but I mostly trust my instinct on that one.

Although we mostly just headed back and forth across the bay on a beam reach, it was a lovely sail. Pup dog had to be restrained repeatedly because she has such a strong instinct to fetch that she wanted to jump in and fetch every crab pot buoy she saw. When sunset was nearing we readied to head back in. We got up some speed so we could tack and head back. Try as we might we could not get tacked across the wind. I'd get us up to 5 knots, the wheel would be hard over, and the boat would just stall out head to wind.

No worries, this is what engines are for. I would've liked to sail her closer to the channel before powering up, but we did want to get in before dark. We dropped the sails and I hit the "start" button. Nothing. No vroom-vroom, no straining or coughing. Just nothing. I ran up and down the companionway checking the battery monitor and my electrical panel and trying the start button again. How the starter had just given up the ghost I didn't know. Well, no worries, this is what unlimited on-water towing from TowBoatUS is for. I was definitely disappointed to have my very first time sailing her myself end with being towed in. The sense of defeat. The public humiliation. I might have fussed and trouble-shot a little longer if I were alone, but I didn't want my crew to be worried, so I decided it was time to "get my money's worth" for that tow policy and call it in.

I called another liveaboard friend and let him know my cell phone battery was getting low and if the tow couldn't put us in the slip, we might need a dinghy hop. He graciously offered to monitor VHF channel 16 in case we needed to hail him for help. Night came on quickly and despite the stressful and unplanned circumstances, I tried to enjoy this night sail as best I could. We rehoisted the main to try to get ourselves to shallower water where we might anchor while waiting for the tow, or at least get out of the main shipping channel. But the boat pretty much sailed us and we ended up under the Bay Bridge. At just that time the tow boat was hailing us on the radio. I told him we were under the bridge and heading north. He asked if we were under sail or drifting. I paused a second and then shouted, "Both!" There was radio silence for a minute while he clearly had a good belly laugh at this wayward drifting sailor. But we managed to get north and thread a narrow path between the shipping channel and the shallow areas where we could run aground. The tow boat caught up with us, reassured us, and we were quickly heading home. The most harrowing part of the trip for me was when as we were under tow and moving pretty quickly Hunter came out the companionway and almost jumped overboard. Poor seasick kitty still has not adjusted to sailing and wouldn't take his Dramamine. Had he jumped, it'd have been virtually impossible to find a grey cat in the black night water or to stop quickly enough and turn about while under tow. Lesson learned that the hatch needs to remain closed when the boat is under way.

About halfway home I happened to look down at the pedestal and the gear shifter caught my eye. It was one of those time-standing-still moments when all the snippets of a story flash by in sequence and... "a-ha!" I chuckled to myself then turned to each side and smiled at my crew. "Don't kill me," I said, "but the gear is in forward... and the engine will only start in neutral." We all paused for a second and then laughed hysterically. We decided it'd be best to just let the tow boat get us to the slip and then check my theory after we were docked. We got tucked into the slip and the tow guy gave me some paperwork and very sweetly, very concerned, said he hoped the engine was going to be OK. Once he had left, the engine started right up without a hitch. Well, I'll NEVER again forget to check that she's in neutral when I'm starting her, will I?

A huge shout out and thank you to my hardworking and patient crew, Lane and Eli. It wasn't a perfect cruise, but it was an unforgettable one.

So my first time sailing Ambrosia was also my first night sail and my first tow. C'est la vie. No one was hurt, we never hit anything, and it was all an opportunity to practice and learn. It isn't always pretty. It doesn't always go as planned. But don't tell me that I won't.