Tag: maggie mason

Learn to Roll in a Kayak? Check.

Kayak Lesson

Despite appearances here, sporty stuff is not my jam. I read my way through childhood, and distant memories of dodgeball still make me feel a little sore. In my soul, I mean.

Learning to tip

There are a few things that made my Mighty Life List because I’m afraid of them, and rolling a kayak is one of those. Bryan loves to go kayak camping, but the few times we’ve gone, all I can think about is the boat flipping. What if I can’t pull off the rubber skirt thingie and end up trapped? Upside down? Underwater?

I’ll tell you what happens, people. Death — with bona fide dying, and moving toward the light, and all the dead people you know slapping you on the back and offering you smokes.

Suki Waters of WaterTrek Ecotours

This is Suki Waters, the patient and aptly named owner of WaterTreks Ecotours up in Jenner. She and her friend George met us at a little lodge in Guerneville that offered to let us use the pool for the day.

3951554406_ff54db331f

My goal was to learn how to roll so I could stop obsessing about tipping whenever I’m in a kayak — overcome my fears, spread my wings, today is the first day of the rest of your kayaking, and so forth. Suki told me it was possible I wouldn’t be able to flip in one lesson, but we’d give it a go.

As you might imagine, signing a contract with Intel has pushed me to do many things I otherwise could have put off perpetually. This, for example:

Underwater in the kayak

That’s me upside down in a kayak with no escape but my wits. Also the two people on either side of the boat waiting to flip me back over, but shut up. If that photo doesn’t make you anxious, your Xanax dosage is too high.

The first time I went over, I didn’t have a nose plug on, and the water went straight up into my brain. Lesson 1, if you want to flip a kayak, get an effing nose plug. It’s been a few days, and I can still feel water sloshing around when I think about anything complex.

3951554312_6194512bc0

The idea here is to avoid panicking when you go under so you can set up your paddle, sweep it across the top of the water, and use it to propel you back up. Naturally, every time I flipped over, my first order of business was panic. My brain stuck on Panic’s Greatest Hits — Claustrophobia! Aspirating Water! Drowning! And so much more!

3950776811_cbe8589bb7

We practiced for four hours, and I was feeling fairly grim for 3.5 of them. All I wanted to do was get my head out of the water, but if you sit up, your head drops you back down because it weighs about as much as a bowling ball. The human head makes an excellent kayak anchor.

I swept my paddle, swept it, swept it, and then thrashed around underwater, until Suki and George dragged me up. Rinse and repeat, literally.

Bryan and Hank played nearby in the pool while I moved from dread, to terror, to dismay, and eventually became familiar enough with my internal frenzy that it ceased to bother me.

Me and Hank

We were about to call it a day, when suddenly everything came together. I swept my paddle and popped up so easily that I assumed a powerful outside force was at work. A wave, the hand of God, Oprah, something like that.

On our very last try, I did an entire roll. Over on one side, back up on the other. YES! Then I offered to bear Suki children if she would let me out of the boat.

3950777399_17e29b1a48

As we left I was feeling profoundly accomplished, and I still do. That fear used to get in my way, and now it won’t anymore. My horizon just got a little bit wider because I took action on my anxiety. That’s a uniquely pleasant feeling, and one I don’t experience enough.

Bryan caught the whole thing on film and made a little movie of my previous attempts. So tune in tomorrow for the mildly agonizing but ultimately triumphant footage. Thanks to Suki Waters and George Zastrow for all the help and support. And as always, a huge thanks to the team at Intel for sponsoring my lifelist. I couldn’t (or rather, probably wouldn’t) have done it without you guys.

Food Fight Footage

Margaret Stewart recorded the entire fight, including a mini-interview with me beforehand.

Tarps made matters scary slippery, so after some initial bailing, we all began to move like cream-covered zombies. Because slow and careful food fights make for good fun but sleepy viewing, may I suggest you forward to 4:35 when I finally realized that Margaret had been avoiding the mess by using her technology as a shield. Take that, Stewart.

You know Intel sponsored this, right? Yeah, I thought so.

Greece! The Teaser

None of these photos have been Photoshopped. Greece is that good.

meroofsmall

Before you arrive in Greece, they hose it down, and repaint everything.

aubsflagssmall

Then they station thousands of men at three-foot intervals. These men wait for you to pass so they can tell you how lovely you are. You! With the gelato! Gorgeous. You! Near the novelty olive oils! You are beautiful. Beautiful!

lauraroofsmall

And you are, of course. Because they sequester you at airport security to airbrush away your imperfections before you can enter the country. Such are the indignities one suffers for vacation photos like this.

upsmall

In short, Greece is fictional.

Be glad I don’t have access to a slide projector and your phone number, because I have enough sunset photos to put the entire Flickr team into a coma.

I know many, many of you have Greece on your Mighty Life Lists, so in the next few weeks I’ll be offering ideas and urging you to go sooner than you otherwise might. Like tomorrow. How’s tomorrow for you?

columnssmall]

While you pack, we’ll talk about:

  • Places I recommend,
  • The super cute things I stuffed in my carry on,
  • What Laura and Aubrey packed (bonus),
  • Athens street art,
  • Foods I tried,
  • What you should taste while you’re there,
  • How to make a comfort kit for plane rides,
  • And how Laura Mayes and I were almost killed trying to watch the sun rise over the Aegean.

That last bit changed the way I think about my life goals. Profoundly, in fact. We’ll talk.

Here’s where I thank Intel, who funded my trip to Greece. It’s been a privilege to be part of the enthusiastic, helpful Intel team, many of whom have made their own Mighty Life Lists in solidarity — Dave Veneski wants to ride the three hardest mountain stages of the Tour de France, Bryan Rhoads wants to make wine in Spain. Their support has inspired lots of you to make lists too — Jennifer wants to feed a giraffe, Liza (who’s mini-list is on her old site) wants to buy glasses with colored frames.

If you’ve made your own list, please email me (maggie [at] mightygirl [dotcom]) with the subject header Mighty Life List. Eventually, I’d like to link to all of your lists on Mighty Girl, so we can start working on our lives together. With purpose! And community! And so forth! It will be rad.

In the meantime, I have about five more dreams to accomplish in the next month, so things will be looking fairly surreal over here. Won’t you join me? Please pick something accomplishable to do the next month and commit to it in comments. Yes. Do it! And keep us posted.

Swim with Bioluminescent Plankton in Puerto Rico? Check.

We hop into a pickup bed filled with sandy, damp life jackets, and they bump against our shins on the dirt road to the beach.

Melissa and I are headed to Mosquito Bay in Vieques, one of most dense bioluminescent bays in the world. It’s teeming with microscopic organisms that light up when they’re disturbed. There are only eleven “biobays” in the world, nine of which are in Puerto Rico.

Ricky, one of the guides, is riding in back with us. He says his job never gets old.

He tells us about raindrops that seem to spark as they hit the water, how schools of fish leave light streams in their wake. I imagine a giant, glowing shark silhouette swimming toward our tiny kayak. Hmm.

We arrive at the beach, and don our gritty life jackets.

The air is suddenly spiky. “What is that?” I ask Melissa. She points to a tiny grain of sand on my forearm. It bites me. We’re covered in vicious, biting mites. Does the guide have any insect repllant? He does, but we can’t use it if we want to swim, it kills the plankton. Baby oil is fine though, and it works great! Does he have any of that? No.

We wade into the water to escape while our guides ready the kayaks.

I’ve adventurously stuffed all my camera equipment into plastic trash bags inside my backpack. Climbing into the open-top kayak, I decide not to think about what might happen if we tip over, because we aren’t going to tip over. Right, Melissa? Melissa, has never been in a kayak before, but we’ll be fine. I’m certain we’ll be fine. Right, Melissa? Melissa avoids eye contact.

We paddle out to the bay and tie the kayaks together to wait for nightfall. Our guide tells us about the dinoflagellates we’ve come to see, single-cell organisms that have the ability to photosynthesize. They’re technically neither plant nor animal. Cool.

I ask the guide if he’ll take our photos when we get in the water, maybe a little video. He warns me that it’s nearly impossible to capture the glow on film. Now he tells me.

We climb out of the boat, and gradually a soft glow gathers around our limbs as we tread water. A few moments later there are sparks and glowing bubbles flying from our fingertips. It looks exactly as you’d imagine pixie dust would look if you were to encounter Tinkerbell in the wild. “I can fly!” I say. I can’t stop laughing. Melissa sweeps her arms through the water and whispers, “I’m a priiiiincess!” We make light saber sounds, hum dramatic overtures as we conduct under water. I lift my hands above the surface, and loose-diamonds tumble down my arms.

As it turns out, our guide was right about the photos. I lightened one so you could get an idea of what the glow looks like. I’m going to blow this up to wall-mural size and hang it above my bed:

I want so much to show you what it was like, but you have to see for yourself. It is amazing. Here’s a little video of us riding back in the truck:

If you can, you have to do this. Go find your swimsuit. Get in the truck.

(Our tour was through Vieques Tours. They were nice, and one of the guides bought the two of us popsicles while we waited for the cars to arrive. Aww. 787.447.4104)

Many thanks to the folks at Intel. They’re making my site more interesting by sponsoring my Mighty Life List over the next few months. They paid for this trip of a lifetime, and I can’t thank them enough.

Life List: Glowing plankton

I’m writing from Puerto Rico. Ay! Ay!

Intel sent me here so I can swim with bioluminescent plankton. It’s pretty OK.

Bryan is busy running his startup, and Hank has a toddler’s commitment to routine, so with the help of a few frequent flyer miles, Melissa met me at the San Juan airport. Her luggage was lost, so I tried to make her feel better by taking her shopping. There was a wide selection at the local gift shops, but she was dubious.

This pair of shoes had zippers up the back. In case you had to get out of your shoes. Like, immediately.

She disdained the classics on offer, even though I told her we would hardly ever come into contact with escalators on the island.

How cute would this be with a lei? Right? I know!

And as the day wore on, she started to come around.

But just when I’d convinced her to trust my sartorial instinct, her bag showed up. She unpacked her Land’s End swimsuit and held it to her face while she wept softly. I poured celebratory glasses of wine, and we headed up to the roof to watch the sunset.

Today we left Old San Juan for Vieques, and I’m typing this on a very bumpy Ferry ride. Excuse me for a moment while I move my laptop so I can place my head between my knees. We’ll see you tomorrow.

Intel is making my site more interesting by sponsoring my Mighty Life List over the next few months. They’re paying for my trip to Puerto Rico so I can cross another dream off my list. Sponsors of Tomorrow, indeed.

Take tap lessons? Check.

My favorite thing about this video is how gobsmacked I look at the end of each section I complete. After the 50-second mark, it’s all celebratory improvisation, so please don’t blame Mr. Kloss for my lack of form.

Ready? Let’s do this thing:

Next time? Sparklers.

Ed note: Intel is making my site more interesting by sponsoring my Mighty Life List over the next few months. Things will be a little hectic over here for a while.

Mighty Life List: Take tap dance lessons.

This is my tap dance teacher, John Kloss. Doesn’t he look hopeful? If you refuse to look hopeful while tap dancing, they pry the taps off your shoes, and point sternly at the studio door. Then they kick you on your way out.

See? Earnest! He’s a professional.

Anyway, Mr. Kloss is the founder of the Bay Area Tap Festival, and he teaches beginner drop-in classes on Wednesday nights at City Dance. I took one — it was the very first time I’d ever put on tap shoes. I quickly realized that I needed an accelerated course, because my plan was to re-launch Mighty Girl with a little tap routine. I had visions of sparklers! And a humorous, sequined tappy outfit!

In retrospect, my vision was overly ambitious (surprise), but Mr. Kloss graciously agreed to meet me on Sunday to teach me a routine. I then spent eleven hours practicing between Sunday and Tuesday. I lost like three pounds, and I’m also so sore I can’t hold the TV remote without whimpering.

Mr. Kloss had a very good sense of humor about my plan, and I did manage to record something on Tuesday. I am not wearing spandex (disappointment!), but I did get all the way through the routine without crying. I’ll post the video tomorrow, so you can enjoy my very stern tap face.

If you need me, I’ll be in an ice bath.

Intel is making my site more interesting by sponsoring my life list over the next few months. So they paid for my tap shoes and studio time. Thanks, Intel!

Turns Out My Fairy Godmother Wears a Clean-Suit


Attend San Francisco’s Black and White Ball.

As many of you know, about a year ago I started writing down 100 things I’d like to do before I die — peacefully, in my sleep, of extreme old age. I called it my Mighty Life List, and I wrote it because I wanted to start dreaming bigger.


Taste 1,000 Fruits.

I was embarrassed by the list’s audacity, worried some of you might think I was cheesy, or maybe overreaching if I told you my plans. That’s silly, of course, because I’ve noticed over the years that you guys are nice. You make it lovely to write here every day, and doing that has helped me realize I want to spend more time celebrating, and less time slogging.


Cross the Canadian Border.

I made the list, changed things here and there, gradually started crossing things off, and then my life took a turn for the surreal.


Make 1,000 lovely things.

Intel has decided to sponsor my life list.

I told you your jaw would hit the floor. I’ve known for months, and my brain is still catching up. So! How did this happen? I’ll tell you the full story in a couple of days, but here’s the gyst.

Intel started this Sponsors of Tomorrow campaign, it’s the one you’ve seen on The Tonight Show, and the one with the geek rockstar ads that have been making rounds online. As part of the campaign, they asked me to choose ten things I thought I could accomplish in the next three months, and then told me to go do them — they’d pick up the check.

Cut to me at the Oscar podium dipping Halle Barry and kissing her full on the mouth.

And so, Mighty Girl is about to get more interesting, and slightly more frantic. My designer friend Helen Jane Hearn came out of blog-design retirement to help me with a beloved new look for Mighty Girl, which will launch Wednesday. I will not be sleeping between now and then.

Next week, I leave for Puerto Rico to swim with bioluminescent plankton. In between I’m taking tap lessons with John Kloss, Founder of Stepology and patron saint of patience.

I need a nap, but I couldn’t be happier. I’m the stupid kind of happy, the let-the-toddler-eat-an-entire-bar-of-chocolate kind of happy. And here’s what’s happening in my head:

In my head all of you are with me in some ludicrous warehouse space, screaming, jumping up and down, blowing celebratory horns, and ducking champagne corks. This Very Good Thing that’s happening, it’s happening because of you. So thank you.

Cheers.

My teeth? Fair Trade

My body is attacking my teeth.

My teeth were just minding their own business, masticating, ripping open plastic packaging. Then my teeth glanced over at my immune system, and my immune system was all, “What are you staring at?” My teeth were like, “Nothing, man.” And BAM! My life is a Stephen King novella where I angered some mystic and now I’m paying in teeth.

It’s called dental resorption, and it’s pretty awesome, because it could strike me again at any time. The act of flossing has become a scene from some artsy Julianne Moore movie. Teeth are so terrifyingly symbolic.

Anyway, my outlook on this new development is surprisingly sunny, which seems slightly insane until you understand the context. So much good stuff is happening in my life right now that “immune system attacks teeth” is falling into the category of You Can’t Have Everything.

I can’t wait to tell you what’s been going on behind the curtain over here, you won’t be able to scrape your jaw off the floor. BUT! I’m not allowed to yet. Please check back next week. I have news.