It is all in your head...

I took surfing lessons ONCE. It was disastrously perfect. I was honored to be taught by the great Jefferson Wagner (Zuma Jay). Sadly, even he was unable to help me because, news flash, SURFING IS REALLY HARD. I sat on my board for almost three hours on the "other side" of very large waves waiting for the perfect one (read 'smaller one') to bring me in. It must be said that his approach was A BIT gonzo: Take me out and just expect me to get in. But if you have ever met Jay, you would do whatever he told you to do. Besides, I was surrounded by the best of the best, the tannest of the tan, the saltiest of the salty (not Kelly Slater types). But I kept waiting, straddling my board, facing away from the shore while basking in the sunshine. I made friends with guys who would come back to my calm spot after their forth, fifth and sixth ride. Watching as they paddled away with the hopes of a great wave in their souls. I have never had so much fun...Then I was forced to finally take a wave and go towards the shore. Calamity. I was standing for 3 minutes (it seemed like three minutes, more like 3 seconds) then fell AFTER I cut one of my new friends off. I then plummeted to the bottom of the ocean, hit my head on my own board and cut my knee. Dazed, I broke through the water and cried with happiness. I HAD SURFED!

I was Gidget for all of three seconds. But what meant the most to me and confirmed my lifelong love of the ocean was the time I spent on the board and in the water. I discovered that you don't need to "Surf" to be a surfer. Being a surfer girl is truly a state of mind! By the way, I still take great pride in the scar on my knee, my moments hanging with the real surfers and my seconds riding the"Big One".

Moral of this story? Before the summer is over take surfing lessons and tap into your inner "Surfer Girl" (then go for drinks at the new Cafe Habana in Malibu).

Not me.

Not me.