Broken Boats and Brokered Promises

             

What happens when your boat breaks down in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea?

It was an August afternoon that had arrived after an aggressive six weeks of dancing and drinking, which left me a in a state of hysteria. I decided to leave my yacht and my crew to spend a night in a hotel for a little air conditioning and rejuvenation. The cubicle sized European hotel room did not offer much more space than the cupboard I usually slept in, but it was nice not to wake up caked in sweat, salt water and stale beer. I also learned that one night of rest does not make up for 40 days without. Because I had left my boat, I had to take the once daily ferry from the mainland to the island where my boat was docked that day, so I groggily boarded the ferry and did my best to ignore the happy people around me.

Vodka, I love you but you lack the electrolytes I need to keep loving me. @tissewill 

We cruised at high speeds for about an hour when the boat abruptly came to a halt and crewmembers began to run around frantically. I had been blasting 90s grunge rock on my headphones and was unaware if any announcement as to our safety had been made. Highly doubting the competency of anyone who speaks Italian to do anything other than make pizza, I was understandably concerned. Having grown up in Malibu where fire evacuations were common occurrence, and earthquakes nothing more than a good way to work on your core strength, I'm good at staying calm during emergencies. However, I have trouble staying calm in the ocean, because I can't swim, and because I hate getting my hair wet.

I immediately started to think about what I would be able to save when we had to jump off the boat. Of course I wanted to save my laptop iPad, and iPhone, and collection of superfood supplements from Whole Foods I use in lieu of recreational drugs. As for my clothes, surely I could save the bikinis, considering they are meant to get wet. But half the items in my suitcase were dry clean only and the imprudence of taking delicates sailing was starting to sink in. Finally, I thought about the movie Titanic, and how Kate Winslet survived, but Leonardo Dicaprio died. In this situation, I was alone. I didn't have a man willing to lose his life so I could be on a raft. And of course the water in the Aeolian Islands is probably considerably warmer than that of the northern Atlantic in winter, but I still hated the idea that this story would not morph from a misadventure into a tragic romance of love and loss. Surrounded by 300 tanned strangers of indeterminable ethnicity, I never felt more unloved or alone.

I imagined anarchy similar to this, but without a shirtless butler serving beer. Photo curtesy of my soul sister @tissewill and @theyachtweek

At this point, my life was flashing before my eyes, and I began to think of everything I had done wrong and the choices that inevitably led me to this point of certain death. I always thought I would die peacefully in my sleep, because I had drank too much to wake up. Drowning, however, is on my top ten list of ways I would never want to die -- After a freak bungee jumping accident and before being pecked to death by birds.  I thought about the fact that I didn't update my will before I left, because my ex-boyfriend was still an heir to my fortune. Even after death, I would still be giving abundantly, and he would still be taking that most precious to me... In this case a box set of Harry Potter DVDs.

The worst part of this horrifying situation, was that I had just come out of one of the craziest Yacht Weeks of my life, and I knew that after that, there was no way I was making it through the gates of heaven. So I began to make promises. I promised the Universe that if I survived I would change. I would be a better person, do good things for the people of the world. I would make my parents proud and I would go to church every Sunday.

Suddenly, the engine jolted to a start, and we began to move again. I started to clap, thinking that everyone around me would too, in thanks to the brave seamen who had just saved our lives. I was alone in my gratitude however, as the Europeans sitting around me sat pretentiously, failing to care they has just come inches from that bright white light.

When we landed at port a few minutes later, I resisted the urge to kiss the ground. It was Sunday, so the town was quiet. I walked by a church currently conducting service, and thought to myself, I'll go next week. I was tired, and needed my two favorite things, ice cream and alcohol. Shortly thereafter, I met up with the rest of my crew, the final week in Italy commenced, and I continued down the road to hell. Hashtag yolo, or something else equally obnoxious that indicates I lack character but am super fun at parties.  

Look how much fun we are havingt. @tissewill

Beware! Fairy Tales Do Come True, It Could Happen to You.

Life is a Fantasy, Get Creative

You are never too old to play dress up. But what happens when your costumes become just an everyday outfit?

I have five friends who genuinely believe that they are Unicorns.  I have seven friends who have convinced themselves that they are mermaids, four of whom purchased mermaid tails and now play mermaids at parties and other events.  Three of the aforementioned Unicorns are also part of the seven Mermaids, which thereby renders them into a super fantasy creature Mermaid-Unicorn hybrid. The only thing that could make those three girls more magical is if they were descendants of fairies. Thankfully, I do not yet have any friends who believe they are actually fairies. That is, unless you count this one girl who was kicked out of my sorority for her ecstasy addiction, and my super gay friend Doug[*].  My ex-sorority sister now designs flowered covered bras and bedazzled neon underpants that you see people wearing at raves and strip clubs. She may not actually think she is a fairy, but she is always covered in glitter and I have yet to determine if the glitter is an occupational hazard or merely the consequence of her enchanted existence.  In fact, half the time I attend parties, most of the guests are dressed in some sort of costume. It’s like my peers have eschewed the harsh realities of adult life and traded it in for a life of fun that is completely devoid of any rational thought.

This unigirl is actually my friend. She gave me permission to use this picture but since she chose to hide her face, I will protect her identity. 

In college, my best friend decided to buy a sexy German beer girl costume for Halloween, and I bought one too because we do everything together. The dress was really flattering, despite(?) the fact that it barely covered our butts, and we received a lot of positive (male) attention when we wore them. It was only natural therefore, that we decided to wear our lederhosen every weekend, sometimes on weekdays, and occasionally to class. This was no longer just a costume or an outfit-- it was a phenomenon. People started to know us as those girls in German beer girl costumes and it was weird if we were not wearing them. Suddenly, all of our friends bought sexy German beer girl costumes too, and wore them without occasion. We would go out to a party on an average night with ten or eleven girls, in the middle of California winter (for those of you not in the know, that is about 60 degrees F, it's clearly jeans and a lightweight t-shirt weather), wearing nothing but a slutty version of Bavarian serving wench dress. 

One day, when we were at a Christmas in the Caribbean themed party, someone approached us to ask why we were wearing lederhosen. One of my friends replied that we worked for an erotic catering company, and had just gotten off work. The concept was an even bigger hit than our dresses. We created a fake erotic catering company with a website and business cards, with no intention of ever doing any catering. We handed out this information to everyone we met, and encouraged them to use our services. It was a hilarious prank that only we found funny until things got real. We started getting hired and paid to promote actual beer at corporate parties. People even paid to have their picture taken with us! It was like we were phamous. 

My fifteen minutes of fame faded quickly however, because this was around the same time I started law school and was forced to live in a hopeless world devoid of make-believe and pleasure.  Meanwhile, my friends’ imaginations continued to flourish, and they were able to embrace any imaginary persona they desired, such as the aforementioned mermaids and unicorns, as well as disney princesses, Bollywood dancers, sexy kitten/nurse/firefighter, and the killer from the Scream movies. The only “identity” I received in those four years was a few letters after my name (J.D., M.D.R., Esq., in case you were wondering). And though I didn’t know it at the time, like my friends, I also lived in a fantasy world during law school, in which I naively believed that my degree would turn my dreams of getting a lucrative job and a handsome husband into reality. I found myself broke, single, and living with my parents and two dogs who looked like cats. But that is another story for another day. My point is, my friends were able to continue to live the dream, because nothing forced them to face reality.  My friends are always invited to the best parties, because people want to surround themselves with their fun-loving spirits. Some of them have gone so far as to make careers out of their fantasies, and now play to work instead of work to play.

I often worry whether my realistic world view and connection to common sense will hinder my journey to success, happiness, and self-actualization. I know I am not a Unicorn, mermaid, or any other fantasy creature and without serious medication or hallucinoges, I don’t think I could ever convince myself otherwise. I worry that this makes me “boring”, or “average.” But lately, I started to realize that if everyone thinks they are a fantasy creature, then maybe being magical is not so special. If everyone is magical, then magic will cease to exist. Is your mind blown yet? So basically, I pride myself on the fact that I am grounded to reality. When the zombies and vampires attack, myself and the other unmagical few, will be the sole survivors. Because unlike the rest of our peers, we will know that that the vampires and zombies, are not fucking real.

Is she actually a mermaid? Where is her tail?

But then again, people don't think my life is real. I spend most of my time traveling around the world, lounging in exotic locales with interesting humans and fantasy creatures alike. When you break it down, we are all just on a quest for happiness, and we try to find it by fulfilling our dreams. We all want to find the magic and escape the real world. Whether we choose to live in a fantasy world, or live our fantasies by exploring the world, it all boils down to happiness. And the occasional hallucinogenic. 

Welcome to my journey. This blog is dedicated to finding the magic in life. Follow me on my travels, hang out with me at home, eat with me, drink with me, be weird with me.  

                           


Peace, love, happiness. 

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[*] I changed the name to protect Doug’s privacy. Even though this little gem shines brighter than a diamond, I don’t want to “out” him in my blog. That’s what his sequin Gucci pants are for.