One Whale

So it's been a bucket list item for me for about ten years now to go whale watching. And, you know... see a real whale. And when I planned my trip to Seattle, that's the first thing I scheduled myself to do. On day three, so I wouldn't be jet lagged, had a better layout of the city, could get around easier, etc. And that involved taking a six person float plane to and from an island where I'd get on a boat and go see whales.

I'm a terrible flyer. Terrible. The flight to Seattle involved wine (to put me to sleep) and Xanax (to make sure I stayed asleep) but I still clutched the Roomstress's hand two out of about four of the hours we were in flight (seriously, I woke up and my hand was numb I was clutching so hard). So I was worried about this puddle jumper and how I'd handle it. I didn't want to take anything - I was afraid I'd be too zonked out to enjoy it. So... I gritted my teeth, said my prayers and got on the plane (first time I've had to tell someone my weight before going on a plane, BTW. Also first time anyone handed me earplugs before boarding). And... it was fine. A bit bumpy, but I could see the ground the whole way (and not rushing up toward my face super fast) and could also see the pilot (not panicking, just like I like my pilots to be) and concentrated on how pretty the view was and how excited I was to be going whale watching.

And then.... it happened. A whale. Looking out of the airplane heading to a boat to go whale watching - a whale. MY whale. Because no one else saw. I didn't know anyone on the plane so I didn't scream or smash anyone's head to the window to see too - so no one else saw. But me. My whale. All for me. My first thought was OH THANK GOD. Pressure's off. I saw one. Second, GOOD LORD I'm going to see a million whales today if I'm seeing them already.

But I didn't. And that's ok. I had a wonderful time anyway getting to know the folks on my boat and flying back to the hotel but don't think I didn't scream ONE WHALE!!!! to my travelling companions when I got back into town. I also sang "Whale of a Tale" from 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea until they made me shut the hell up.

furiously happy about my one whale

In other news, I'm not going to go on and on about poor Robin Williams and his untimely demise. I have listened, and heard - on the radio, on the facebooks, in person - people who have never walked through the valley of darkness of depression pleading with friends and colleagues to get help when you need it. And, I hate it - but that's laughable. Depression makes you useless. All there is a dark hole with no way out. And no one who hasn't gone through it can understand. Help just doesn't seem possible. I have had so many people say "If you needed help, why didn't you ask?" and I respond - some days getting out of bed was the main achievement for the day. Because if I didn't do it one day, I sure as hell wouldn't do it the next. There's no help - it feels like something you deserve, that there's no way out. But, as the Bloggess says, it's all a lie. There are ways out. Some days it's just impossible to believe they're out there though.

I don't wanna die. I bet Robin Williams didn't want to die. But when you're at the bottom of a hole and can't see a way out, sometimes you slip. And that's what's scary. I don't want to slip. And when something like that happens, it's like a mirror held to your face and you know that if he can slip, then sometime you might too. Ugh.

Enough. Big weekend ahead! Lots going on!

space needle from float plane!

Over and out!