surfacing, surfacing, barrrrreeee-barrrrrreeee-barrrreeeeeeeee

when I was a kid, living in Southern California, we'd make a trip to Disneyland every 3 or 4 years, and every time I went on that submarine ride and really believed that I was on a real submarine and those were real fish and maybe even real mermaids (note to self: another early homomoment). I loved that ride nearly as much as I loved the jungleboat or whatever it was called-- you know, that ride with the hippos.

anyway, I'm thinking about that submarine ride and about what it feels like to head back up to the surface, all that water falling off, and right about now, I feel like I'm on my way (finally), feeling like there's gotta be some light and the weight of the holidays and winter and all that (read: finishing school) is falling away and I might just might be able to return to a far healthier, more balanced life. It's not that I've been out of control-- I haven't. If just been in the dark a bit, stuck in a hole where I can't move as much as I need to, and, it follows, the hole is growing smaller as I grow larger.

In short: I want my healthy life back. yes, I know it was neglectful to drop it like that, but my hands were all slippery with duck fat, and that's what can happen when you've got greasy mitts.