Since the wind blew everywhere in town but blew a little less in Waikiki I decided to take the 8’6 for a walk down to Queens. As I paddled out, a surfer got a little too ambitious and dropped in on a wave that was breaking directly in front of me and another guy. He didn’t clear us. He ate shit and skegged my thigh— but what was truly unforgivable was the gash he left on my rail.

It seems the surf god has been unkind to me. Is it to punish me for the ungratefulness I show when I complain and moan about the less-than-mediocre conditions he (I am beginning to think he, is in fact, a she in her 2-week long pms… What a bitch). I wish she would just get over her hormonal-tide changes and give me something good to cling on to again.

It’s been awhile and I really am getting just as bitchy— though I should reconsider picking a fight against her—I’m still very much at her mercy. Curses to the shitty feeling that one’s happiness depends on something or someone beyond one’s control! But I realize, sometimes I guess, it’s also this feeling of not having control that makes one’s happiness all that much sweeter. Life— what a fun, confusing, little puzzle.

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