I just got back from a vacation the other night (well, actually, considering the frequency with which I update this thing, it was more like a few weeks ago. But bear with me). Which in and of itself, sucks. Partially because I'm no longer in a tropical paradise. Partially because where I was turned out to be less of a tropical paradise as it was a small island in the middle of the GM wind-test tunnels for aerodynamic analysis of their cars (At least this week - I've been to the atoll a number of other times (Turneffe Island, off the coast of Belize, Central America) and it had considerably less of a gale-force kind of feeling in trips past). Partially also because New York was not in the grips of spring like I had assumed it would be (I hear something about snow for tommorrow, which is just about as far from spring-like behavior as you can get). Partially because I have to go to work tommorrow (worse things I suppose - I enjoy my job, and every once in a while they give me some time to spend in a tropical paradise [even if it is in the middle of 8 foot seas and near-death experiences]). But it's not so bad overall (coming back from vacation, I'm referring to) and I'll tell you why. Because I'm an idiot. I'll explain. I assume if I wasn't an idiot, I wouldn't be carting home with me the following list of troubles from my dive trip:

Two major cuts on my hand: I think I got them while re-entering the dive boat on one of the first dives (the trip was a SCUBA dive trip my family goes on about once a year Great fun, generally). Let me tell you something: There's nothing quite like sighting a shark at 60 feet, surfacing, and then having your hand gush blood to expidite something like getting the Hell out of the water. Turns out it's possible take off your bouyancy control device, tank, and flippers without actually touching any of them - just jump straight up about a dozen feet out of the water and land in the boat. As an experienced diver (a fact which the list to follow may suggest is a falsehood, but I assure you it's true), I know that a nurse shark is about as likely to attack me in a fit of bloodlust as is a severely stoned Buddhist monk under heavy guard. But still.

Nausea: I'm not much one for sea-sickness. Never really gotten it before at all. But the winds (which kept up at about 15 - 20 mph 24 hours a day, for the entire trip) kicked up rough seas - 6 - 8 foot waves, bouncing around, and me too proud to put on a scopamine patch to keep it all down. I didn't get sick in the "I think I'm going to be sick" sense, but I definitely wasn't feeling well. Which led directly to...

A bad cut on the forehead: I blame my sister-in-law for this. She was trying to be nice, and after she entered the water for a dive I was skipping (due to an upset stomache), she called out to me to tell me where the wristbands were (they press against a pair of pressure points, and aid in nausea control). I jumped on on a bench to see over the guy in front of me, the boat rocked when I expected it to roll, and I whacked my head into an exposed bolt on the superstructure for the bridge of the boat. Which did take my mind off the nausea, but had me thinking intently about the heavy bleeding I was doing. On the upside, this gave me something to do during the remainder of the dive, since I was running out of books to read.

My index finger on my left hand hurts. Don't know why. But I happened this week, so I'm listing it.

I wrenched my shoulder doing something. Hurts when I put it in certain positions. Trying not to put it in those positions, but I keep forgetting what they are. Luckliy, the blinding pain is a quick reminder. I'm thinking of starting a notebook to write reminders, and consulting it everytime I want to move. Told my dad that I think it's my rotator cuff (because I do) and he expressed sympathies that my pitching days are probably over. Which taught me that being a smartass is genetic.

Knee hurts: Jumped off one of the dive boats, and slipped on the dock. My body continued forward, foot went backward, knee whacked into the dock. Not so bad, but not so good.

There's a funny rash on my shoulder that is either from the rubbing of the wetsuit or being bitten by some bug. I'm going to wait a couple of days to see if the welt bursts and gives birth to a thousand tiny spiders. If so, I'll call a doctor. Otherwise, I'll just rub some calomine lotion on it.

All things considered though, it could have been considerably worse (hand eaten by a shark, tossed my cookies overboard simulating chum and then proceeding to get eaten by a shark kicked up into a feeding frenzy, cracking my head open on the superstructure falling unconscious overboard and being eaten by a shark [not a bad way to be eaten by a shark I, I assume, but still crappy], . . . You get the point).

So since the vacation itself wasn't the greatest I've had, coming home wasn't the worst thing in the world. Until the temperature dropped below 30 again, and we were threatened by a blizzard. That got me pretty pissed. But what are you gonna do? Of course, coming home kind of sucked in ways all it's own. While I was gone, for instance, the batteries in my phone died, taking my phone numbers with it. Which wasn't a problem, since I can sync my phone to my computer. And if I do that regurally, the whole losing my numbers thing isn't that much of an issue... But of course I hadn't done it in a few weeks, and there was an important number in there I really really wanted. But no problem! I had the number on my desk at the office. Problem solved!

So on Monday, I head into the office, get my morning cup of tea (coffee is for addicts), and head to my desk. Put down my tea, take off my bag, and proceed to knock the tea over, covering every piece of paper on the desk. I actually watched as the piece of paper I needed was overtaken by the growing pool of raspberry goodness, and saw the ink on it bleed away. That sucked. Luckily, Big Brother tracks all of my phone calls, so all I have to do is call every number on my phone bill that I don't recognize until I hear a familiar voice. I guess that's a plan. Tell you how it goes.

So that's that. Things are really busy, and I apologize for not keeping up. But it is Sopranos season, and the time I used to set aside for writing blog entries (you remember, back in 02?) is now taken up by repeated viewings of new episodes. I'm not giving anything away when I say Jennifer Melfi has a nice rack. Smart chicks are hot, is all I'm saying.

Thanks for reading. Be back soon as I can.