Monday, October 22, 2007



I did it! It was awesome! And so much easier than diving in the pool...

I recommend it to everyone!!!

Wednesday, October 17, 2007


movie set in Boston...

A review of Gone Baby Gone, which is set in Boston (and directed by Ben Affleck).

Here, Here!
With crime thriller 'Gone Baby Gone,' Ben Affleck returns home and captures Boston in all its gritty glory

pull quote:
When a city's worst impulses are hidden from sight, you have to know the terrain to find them. This is where Affleck's inner map serves him well. Would another director, one from out of town, have filmed a scene set at the Quincy quarries at the Quincy quarries? Does geography matter if you're not from around here?

The Quincy Quarries. Ah. As in...the quarry my mom was fretting about. What timing!

I really want to see this movie!

Tuesday, October 16, 2007




I'm finally, finally, finally getting my scuba certification this weekend - after almost a year of doing nothing with it (you know, winter = no diving, spring = allergies, summer = brother's wedding + traveling, etc - time just seemed to run out), I remembered in a lightning bolt of dismay that my class time learning expires in a year if I don't get certified.

So, crap. I emailed Cindy at the National Diving Center, and she was amazing and so understanding, and squeezed me into a pool time slot, and I got to practice last week, and I'm practicing again this week. The real dives are this weekend, and I'm carpooling with my dive buddy.

A perk of doing it this year - it's a class of 14 (as opposed to last year's class of oh, 2 people, including me), so I'm meeting some fellow future divers. It's a big no-no to dive alone, so hopefully I'll be able to network and make bffs and whatnot.

But yes. Now that it's finally time to step out of the ole' pool and sink to the bottom of a quarry, I'm getting hit with some waves of anxiety. My calming technique previous to this weekend had been thoughts of "oh, you're just in a pool, you can come up at any time. You swim in pools all the time." This little heart-rate slowing ritual is about to backfire.

I don't know about all of you, but I've never been in a quarry. As my mom told me (thanks, mom), "People die in quarries all the time." I pointed out to her that most of those people (God rest their souls, of course) made the foolish mistake of jumping off rocky out-croppings in the pitch black while drunk. Not saying they deserved to die (no one does), but I'll be sinking slowly in a controlled (hopefully!!) situation, with air on my back. And fins on my feet. And goggles. And not inebriated.

So, yes. Here comes the big weekend. Suddenly I understand why all these people have been like "Oh! Good for you! I'm scared of scuba diving!" I thought they were oh-so-silly, but perhaps I hadn't been thinking.

In case I have any readers - this is what I get when I write once every three months - please, please say prayers for me Saturday and Sunday. Prayers that I keep my head and remember to breathe!

(hmm. "Making Memories of Us" by Keith Urban is on right now, and it's quite soothing. Maybe I'll sing that to myself when diving? I used to sing to myself when I'd go down cellar and was scared of people possibly hiding down there and it chilled me out...)

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