Salty Utopia

For the majority of my life, I've acquired quite a fascination with the ocean. However much I may adore it, I've only been in and close to an ocean on a few rare occasions in my life. I'll never forget how beautiful it was.

The first time I set foot in the sea was a few summers back. My family and I decided that we were going to take a road-trip down to Tofino on Vancouver Island, BC. Being from one of Canada's prairie provinces, I'm definitely not exaggerating when I say it took us four days to get there, including the numerous rest-stops that became necessary from my father's exhaustion (he was the one driving, after all).

After nearly ninety-six hours of unpleasant car-sickness, several ferry rides, and a farting, complaining brother, I found it to be quite the relief when we finally reached the condominium complex we were to be staying at. It turned out to be a forty minute drive to the nearest beach but as soon as I took one step out of the vehicle, the aroma of the sea rushed to meet me. We were surrounded; surrounded by paradise.

Many days were spent driving around, absorbing the breath-taking scenery, and occasionally stopping at a few small beaches we found along the way. My favourite day, however, was one of the very last. That was the day we went to Long Beach — the first day I'd ever actually swam in the ocean.

Many people whom had visited the beach before strongly advised us to wear wetsuits and that we would barely be able to stand the temperature of the water for very long, so it was definitely a surprise to us all when I ended up spending three and a half hours riding the waves on my stomach and diving to excavate sand-dollars from within the sand bed. My brother and father whom also swam that day gave up after almost two hours and went to join my mother as she was in a beach chair and in charge of snacks. Unfortunately for them, the wind wasn't very pleasant to be in — especially since two of the three were wet. I didn't have a problem with it, however, as I spent the majority of my time under the waves that crashed overhead or seeing how close I could swim to a rock that was a temporary resting spot to an abundance of sea lions without having them spot me.

Finally, I was collected from my salty paradise and driven back to the condo with a red plastic cup filled with sand-dollars, beauteous shells, and even some oysters that contained gorgeous pearls within my grasp. I'm surprised I didn't go delirious from all the salt water I had swallowed that day. I remember that for a few days after that, I could still taste the ocean every time I licked my lips. I never got sick of it.

One day I'm going to move somewhere along the coast. That way, I'll be able to swim, scuba, beach-comb, and relax to the wondrous sound of waves until my heart's content. My heart lies within the sea.

Let's Not Do This Again Sometime

I can't really come to a decision on whether or not I enjoy large family gatherings. What I am certain of is that they are exhausting. If I'm visiting with one related family, I'm fine. When it comes to a group of twenty, however, including those whom remember me when I was a baby that I couldn't recall to save my life or just complete strangers, I tend to have a more difficult time being out-going.

I try so hard just to carry a five minute conversation that by the end of it, I feel like I need a nap. But I can't even sit down because before I know it, some distant relative I don't recognize has me in a firm embrace and is going on about how much I've grown. So I force on yet another overwhelming smile that everyone just seems to eat up and ask them things I really couldn't care less about.

I feel like I'm being rude sometimes because little does everyone know, I would rather be curled up in a blanket in a closet listening to music and hiding myself from the world rather than talk. I can't change this feeling. I would if I could. I usually only get like this by the end of the reunion and spend my time actually being nice and caring without needing to fake for the first couple of hours before I get cranky.

To add to my exhaustion is the fact that I only got less than two hours of sleep the night before all thanks to an obnoxious thunderstorm. I also spent most of the party with my second cousins: Amelia is turning ten in a few weeks and William just blew out the candles for his sixteenth birthday. Their personalities are complete opposite because I'm pretty sure I've exchanged more words with Amelia than I have with anyone in the past two months whereas William referred to me and my brother as "those other people,"  spoke to us just to say hi when we first arrived, and ignored us the rest of the time. All he did was hide in the basement and watch television and she was right on my heels every step I took. Don't get me wrong — they both can be really fun. William was just absorbed in hating everything at the moment and Amelia was just a little over excited as a result of not seeing us in five years.

Everyone else at the get-together was an adult and, by the sickening aroma in the house, spent most of their time drinking or smoking when they weren't busy harassing me with questions. And then comes the drama. I expected some bickering going into it but by the end of the day, some people wouldn't even look at each other let alone communicate.

Overall, I think I had a pretty good time. I got to see family whom live too far away to visit frequently and more importantly, survived. Although I did happen to get some of my Aunt's champagne all over me because the glass she was using broke in her hand. It also got on my other Aunt's ceiling, but she was too drunk to care. Then again, when don't any of these things happen with my family.