The art of the wave

As I've said before, any day you get up and riding on your first wave of the day is a good day, and I did that today.

I've also shared my theory that you might as well go in after that, because you're not likely to do any better. That was mostly true today, except I got my first wave in the first ten minutes, so I couldn't really go in. But after that, mostly what I did was freeze. It was in the 40s but there was a fierce west wind.

I did get another wave, got it late, but got up on it too. Then more freezing and thinking, this is nuts, it's too cold to be out here, for about another half hour, but not going in because I'd had a pretty good time. Then a wipeout and time to get out, cause my sunglasses came off and I was too cold to struggle to get them back on.

Some of the women out here have raised bitchery to an art form. Or so it seems at times. For example, E. She's probably reading this. Hi, E. I have nothing against you. I don't even know you, so I can't really call you a bitch. But why does it kill you to say Hello back to someone who says Hello to you?

Of course, the answer is so high school. E.'s heard some gossip about me, some vicious and fabricated crap about what I supposedly did or didn't do to K., and so she "hates" me because K. hates me and she's K.'s friend now. So she can't say Hi to me on principle. Ugh. Can we all just grow up?

The long distance version of Hello is the beach wave, of course. You see someone from the boardwalk, or they're on the boardwalk and you're on the beach, and you're out of earshot so you just wave Hi. Who wouldn't return a wave? I do it even when it's somebody who's mistaken me for someone else! And that happens, cause everyone looks the same in black.

Usually I'm a bit shy about initiating the wave thing, lest it not be returned, but what the hell, what's the worst that can happen? So I've been doing it first. Today I saw E. on the boardwalk checking out the waves, and waved. Do you know what she did? She did this little thing with her wave hand, lifting it up to fluff her long blond hair in such a way as to say, Can't you see I have to fluff my hair and don't have a spare hand. Or maybe it was meant to be so ambiguous a gesture that I could have mistaken it for a wave if I wanted to but she could say, if seen by K. or any of the high school crowd, I wasn't waving, I was just fixing my hair! Or maybe the hand just started to do the hand wave thing automatically by itself but she corrected it and saved face by sticking it in her hair halfway up.

E., let's talk, let's have a beer! Hate me if you must, at least find a good true reason first!

I'm even open to the possibility that you truly didn't see me waving to you. Was that it?

Any way you look at it, this is just retarded. It's even retarded that I wrote five paragraphs on it. I'm a long way out of high school and don't need this shit.

In other news, my blind senile almost 16-1/3-year-old dachshund banged up against the radiator today and burned the black off her nose. Poor little thing, she looks so funny now, insult added to her injury. The fun never stops with this dog. But I wish it would.