Tuesday, February 4, 2014

I fell out of the sky!

Disclaimer: This is a post that I made last January (2013) and posted on my previous blog.  The story  was entertaining, so I thought I would relive it and share it in this new space.  Enjoy!!!


As you may recall, my best friend decided to spend her birthday boarding a plane and jumping out of it.  Hella awesome, right?  Yea, well not so much...initially.  I was skerred.  Yes, skerred...that is several blocks into the neighborhood that is riddled with crime scene tape...skerred...I have no business doing this or being here....skerred...I am a grown adult that just might crap her pants and not really care....skerred.  If skerred is not in your dictionary, then you have not lived.  Focus.  So I was skerred.  Despite this, I gave into the peer pressure and hoped into the car as my husband drove us to Out of the Blue Skydiving.

Our drive to our jump site was full of inappropriate discussions.  For instance, I thought it would be a great time to discuss my husbands life insurance policy...rather or not the amount would be sufficient and if dying from skydiving would be considered an accident or suicide.  This was a legitimate questions because some policies will not cover acts of suicide.  He then questioned my policy.  We left that conversation as a To Be Continued. From here, the conversation ventured to bodily functions.  If someone puked, would it smack our instructor in the face, thus making him blind and incapable of navigating the chute?  This would totally send them and their untrained dummy crashing to the ground...covered in puke.  Perhaps, as we are jumping, our "oh shit factor" will kick in and force us to pee on ourselves.  I then wondered if Juan and I should have frozen our eggs and sperm so that the other person could still have a child from the deceased parent.  Yea...just a little weird.  

Once we arrived to our spot, the nerves started to kick in.  Okay, well the nerves were already there, but you get it.  Fortunately, the staff at Out of the Blue Skydiving were so kick assems!  The people love what they do and they make you feel at home...well maybe not at home cause that would be weird, but they definitely make you feel like you stepped into a new world of cool.  I, on the other hand, belong in a museum for the weird and slightly insane, but that's not the point.  All I could do was try and control my uncontrollable nervous giggle.  I giggles when the lady asked for my name.  I giggled when I signed my life away.  I giggled when I met my instructor and I giggled when I asked where the restroom was located...the portable potty out back.  In addition to the giggles, I could not help but ramble whenever someone asked me a question.  My brain just refused to give a straight answer.  "What's your name?" " (giggle) oh my name?  Yes.  My name.  My name is De.  My parents named me after a light on the moon.  Well around it.  But my parents aren't hippies.  Maybe they smoked weed, but I wasn't around to see it.  There are several marajuana dispensers on the way up here.  I should have...do you like cake?  My best friend loves cake.  It's her birthday...my cat is named after Michael Jackson...well kinda..."  Or something along those lines.  

Eventually, we got suited up and pushed to our death.  Okay maybe it wasn't that dramatic.  My husband was suited first.  As we left to board the plane, I realized that I would be devastated if I never got to hug him again.  So I threatened the instructor.  The instructor was so sweet that he promised to keep him alive...cause, well it was his life as well.  I was able to watch my husband free fall out of the plane...it was more of a spec, but whateves.  He was the best looking spec I've ever seen (insert Dory squishy voice) the cutest little spec I've ever seen!  Then he fluttered around as he slowly came to a smooth landing.  The hubs gave me a thumbs up and yelled "F-ing awesome!! That was amazing. $h!t!  Lets do that again, son."  Swear words aren't his style...he leaves that to me.  Such a gentleman.  I will say that those were the sweetest foul words ever muttered. Love.  Any who, he landed and several minutes later, I was boarding a plane with my bestie in tow.  We opted to jump together because I knew that, eventually, her nerves would kick in and we would be on the same "ooh shit" meter.  My husband, however, was "about that life."  Not referencing the prison life or being down to kill someone, but rather brave and down for the cause.  He only kills flies, spiders, ants and other things that crawl...oh wait not kids! Kids crawl.  He won't kill a kid.  He likes kids. Forcus!  So I opted to be in the plane with someone whose ridiculous perspective would not make me beg for a teddy bear and a cozy blanket.  And like a great friend, Sabrina was there!  

Mid way up into the air, she started to break down.  She questioned her judgement, and had a moment of "what the heck have I done!?"  For the first time ever, I was so tempted to flip her off!  I actually put up my fingers and tried really hard to do it, but I just couldn't.  Any who, we a flying.  My instructor, Stephen, begins to tell me everything that I need to know.  The problem is, my brain was going blank.  It just could not process what he was saying.  What I gathered was my feet needed to be on a step (which ended up being like a tight rope), let go of the plane, something about my feet and my hands doing something and kick up.  He was much more thorough, but seriously, my brain had flatline.  The next thing I know is the door is being opened and I can clearly see the wings of the plane (I swear it just appeared.  For all I knew the plane only had 1 wing and that was on the other side of the plane.).  The air was freezing.  I believe it was -10 give or take 20 degrees.  Then Stephen tells me to step out of the plane and on to the tight rope err I mean the step.  Um...excuse me?  WTFrick?  Have you, Stephen, seen that step?  It is outside of the plane...hovering over the ground...in the air...clearly the safety net is missing.  At this point, things get blurry.  I remember putting my foot out on the step and trying to align my feet to fit perfectly on the tight rope..you know so that I wouldn't fall or anything.  In the mean time, I am casting my prints into the door of the plane.  Then something happens and my hands let go and I realize that I am no longer standing.  I tripped!  I frickin tripped...no...no wait, I am falling!  Ahahaha!  I remember wondering if Stephen...my instructor...the guy that had the chute...the only person who knew where to land and how to land and how to navigate the air and stuff...wondering if he made it out of the plane with me.  I mean, after all, I did just fall out and from what I remember he was supposed to be strapped on my back.  But for some reason, I could not feel anything.  I couldn't even feel my body.  

The free fall is like nothing that I have ever experienced.  It is indescribable.  I mean, have you ever been a bird?  Have you ever had wings to flap and a wing span to glide? Unless you are the Phoenix.  No?  That sucks.  Use your imagination, okay?  You have no way of understand this weightless, floating, but exhilarating feeling. 

Eventually, I realized that Stephen didn't just abandon me,  he was where he was supposed to be...suspended on my back.  The only time that I have ever given a man a piggyback ride and no I am not a pig. Thanks for asking.  At some point, I remember telling myself that I need to enjoy this experience.  As soon as the thought crossed my mind, the chute was opened and I was floating.  We swirled, flirted with the wind and the air, dancing a little jig of foolish gravity defying romance.  It was amazing.  The view was breath taking.  I was living.  

We landed and I could not wait to squeeze my husband and thank my friend.  After all, it was her crazy idea.  I thanked her for being so irresponsible and foolish.  I thanked her for pushing me.  I thanked her for the unspeakable message that I received...life is to be lived. I had lived.  

We finished the day with some cheap hole in the wall old fashion burgers, an unsuccessful hunt for cupcakes, a well over due nap and dinner at an upscale small bites restaurant.  I celebrated my friends life, while challenging the mundane life that I was living...

The sky is falling

Disclaimer: This is a post that I made last January (2013) and posted on my previous blog.  The story  was entertaining, so I thought I would relive it and share it in this new space.  Enjoy!!!


The sky is falling! Oh wait, that's just me...

Have you ever broke out in a complete sweat, and been on the verge of a breakdown with a heart attack looming in the background? No? Well, let me bring you into my world.  

I am the type of person that is usually "down for the cause."  I am willing to try anything once and I will not be the one to ruin the fun for everyone else.  I do, however, try to avoid things that will require an insurance deductible, will cause permanent body disfigurement(key word is disfigurement), or cause death or stoning.  I like my life and I am thankful for every moment that I am allowed to relish in its awesomeness. I don't feel the need to play Russia Roulette with my life...I can't even play poker.

With that disclaimer out of the way, let me get to my nervous breakdown. My best friend is slowly approaching her *beep* (I can't tell you the year because she will kill me) birthday.  Being the friend that I am, I asked her what she wanted to do for her birthday.  She responded with this "great idea..." board a plane, strap on a parachute, jump out of the plane and land on the ground...in one piece. Yes, diving out of the sky toward the solid ground with just a parachute to "save" us.  What the hell kind of tomfoolery is that? Sounds like it breaks several rules for life preservation.  

Conveniently, she found a group coupon deal that offered this life altering, sky crashing event at a discounted price.  My husband, who is just as ridiculous as my friend, was all for it.  They were both ready to purchase.  I, however, was not.  I broke out in a complete sweat.  When I say "complete sweat" I mean EVERY membrane that has a sweat gland was pouring. I was in a state of shock.  I could not determine if I wanted to cut the ish out of them, demand that my mom cuddle me and make this nightmare go away or pack my ish up and leave...permanently.  All I knew is that the thought of purchasing the tickets was just too much...mind you my brain was too clogged to even process the actual a skydive. 

I decided to take a few days to clear my head, remove the thoughts of violence and try to get excited about this ridiculousness.  I stumbled across some sites that explained that the "free fall" portion of the jump will only last 40seconds. Ive cussed someone out for longer than 40seconds.  With my new found info, I could not wait to tell my bestie about my revelation.  Then, this heffa has the nerve to completely splatter my happy bubble by telling me that she found out that the free fall is only 40 seconds, but then the parachute opens and you float in the air for about 5 minutes before you actual land.  O_o what in the hell is she talking about?  What 5 minutes of float time is she talking about?  The site said 40 seconds of free fall and then you are on the ....whoa. Is she telling me that this sky falling crap is broken up into free fall and floating?  Ohhh hell naw (yes, naw). At this point I am in a full on fit of contradictions.  I am fitting a giggle seizure, two seconds away from the ugly snot face cry, sweating like the butt crack of an olympic runner, and trying to breath...with emphysema. My brain has completely shut down and all I can think of is swirling above the ground like a defective pendulum.

(I wish I could insert a sound feature that will say a bunch of F bombs)

Would you believe me if I said that buried underneath the layers of "what the hell," next door to the "oh hell naw," and two degrees away from the "fuck this bullshit" metro is a tiny, 5second rule twinge of excitement? Let me clarify.  That excitement, similar in diameter to a human skin cell, is looking forward to the view from 15k feet in the air. It will truly be an experience.  I will be sure to fill you in on the amount of vomit that was spewed and how many bottle of vodka I needed to get on the plane.  

Have you been skydiving? Did you live to tell about it...oh wait.