While not exactly the bravest thing I've ever done, I'm still pretty proud.

I spent most of yesterday out on the lake with friends to celebrate the visit of Emily, little sister to long time friend Amanda. Emily is such an impressive person; she's beautiful, she's smart and best of all, she's one of those women who automatically can make you remember all the fabulous things about yourself and feel all the more attractive because of that. She's the girl you want to be your friend at a party - you can just bask in Emily's residual aura. She has a fancy job up in New York City that keeps her hopping around the country, and when she shows up in town it's like a lightening strike - she's here, then she's gone. Emily's the only person who I think could ever say "He's the first person I called when I was in jail," and make it sound luxurious.

It was during yesterday's laketime that Emily walked me up to the top of the swim deck, clamored up on the railing and helped me up to stand beside her. She held my hand and said, "Ok. Let's jump. We'll do it together." And I hesitated, looked down, and said, "No. I don't want to." And Emily said, "Or not!" and gleefully sailed into the lake while I climbed back down off the railing.

A few weeks ago I was bemoaning a pulled hamstring to friend Heather, and whined to her, "I KNEW I shouldn't have tried to learn to wake board so close to a race," when Heather said, "Megan. That's the little voice inside your head that you should be listening to."

Congratulations, Heather. You are right. Little voice, keep talking.

(But I should confess that after I got off the rail, I did go back downstairs and dove headfirst into the lake. Then I drank a beer and burped real loud. And I have a penchant for treating all of downtown Knoxville like my rumpus room. I am unafraid to walk around in my pajamas. BABY STEPS. At least I didn't jump from two stories.)

what? I WAS THIRSTY.