certifiable

The good news: I'm officially a certified diver. Which is pretty much awesome.

The bad news: For about two days afterward, I couldn't turn my head, cough, swallow or bend over to pick something up off of the floor without neck pain. I've just started feeling better today (largely due to acupuncture, but we'll save that for a later post).

That scuba equipment was heavy as hell, especially for my shrimpy ass. Imagine strapping a giant anvil to your back and then walking down a long flight of stairs to the beach below, swimming/bobbing around in the waves for a few hours (yes, hours), then hauling yourself out of the ocean and climbing back up all of those stairs.

On the bright side: At least I didn't slip and crack my head open. I'll take neck pain over a broken skull any day.

Anyway, in typical Michaela fashion, I managed to turn the diving experience into a big comedy show. Highlights included:

• Falling in the surf while trying to put my fins on and not being able to get up. Yes, folks, I was literally that idiot rolling around on her back on the beach, arms and legs flailing. And it took two people to pull me upright. (I fully expect to see this on YouTube.) The performance was then repeated trying to pull my fins off and get out of the water. I believe I was crawling on my hands and knees at one point. And I had to cling to a dive master while he took my fins off for me. I've got talent.
• Discovering it's completely possible to suddenly feel extremely seasick underwater. Thankfully, this happened during the last dive on Saturday, and I got out of the water without barfing into my regulator. (Side note: Am I the only one who hears that term and automatically thinks of Warren G?) And on Sunday, I took some Bonine, which kept the nausea away, making it possible for me to watch the swaying anemones without feeling like the world was spinning.
• Losing stuff. Like the snorkel I borrowed from Neveia, which now lies at the bottom of the sea. Oops. I also lost my dive buddy, but I guess that's what happens when the visibility is only 3-4 feet (hooray for cold water diving in Northern California) and they pair you with the guy who shows up late because he's hungover.

Despite these setbacks, I still passed. (Sure, I may not be able to stand upright on the beach, but I can clear my mask underwater and share my air source in an emergency situation, and that counts for something.) And it was pretty sweet under those waves. My deepest dive was 40 feet, and I saw sea urchins (which I really wanted to eat), sand dabs (again, eat), anemones, sand dollars and thick ropes of kelp anchored on rocks -- not too bad considering the visibility was far from great. I also got a few feet away from a sea otter.

Hoping I can do it all again soon. Only with less ridiculousness the next time around.