I was hoping for some hot Swedish guy...

So I'm going to press pause on writing about the things I've already crossed off, and jump in with one that I just crossed off the list.

Get a professional massage.

A few days ago, I got my first professional massage. (Umm can I do that every day?!?)

My friend works at a nearby hospital and post-blizzard(s), they were offering cheap gift certificates for massages. She asked if any of her friends wanted one and I jumped at the chance. Literally! "Yes yes yes ME PLEASE!!!" with little bunny hops was my exact response. (She asked via facebook so she, thankfully, didn't have to see the bunny hops)

So yesterday, I drove to the hospital (one of the administrative buildings) and met my masseuse, Claire, a little motherly lady with a strong handshake. I was hoping for some hot Swedish guy but, for 20 bucks, I was happy with what I got.

I stripped down and laid on the HEATED (wow) massage table with the sheet over me. Claire came in, put on some soothing music, and started the massage. She rubbed my face and scalp (I felt like I was getting a brain massage.. it was wonderful lol) and moved on to my shoulders and arms. I was in la la land, practically asleep. I turned over and she went to work on my back.

Overall, it was a-ma-zing! And it came at the perfect time, too! I was driving home a few nights ago and some jerk rear ended my car when I was stopped at a red light. And he tried to blame me! And the people he was insured through (Enterprise because he was driving their rental car) have been dragging their feet on the whole thing so I've been car-less and angry for a few days now.

So needless to say, a few days later when I went in for my massage, my back and neck were still a little sore, and I was majorly stressed.

After the massage, I walked out of there super relaxed and feeling good. I actually had to sit in my car a few minutes and wake up before driving!

This will NOT be a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing. Once I find my sugar daddy (I'm a poor journalist!), this shall be a monthly (weekly? daily?!?) kind of thing!

Meet Sandy the Camel

This is Sandy the Camel. He (she? I didn't check) took me for a tour of the Negev desert in Israel while I sat atop his hump.



I went to Israel in January 2008 on a Birthright trip. For the Goys reading this, Birthright is a program where the Israeli government and Israeli benefactors pay for young Jews to travel to the homeland to experience our culture, first-hand. I was really excited for the trip and when I found out we would be riding camels, I was jumping for joy! Everyone tried to rain on my parade by pointing out that camels are smelly and they spit. Eh, who can't handle a little phlegm? (Eww. I hate that word actually.)

For part of our trip, we visited the Negev desert. We swam in the Dead Sea (more on that in a future post), repelled down a crater wall, met a Bedouin tribe, ate interesting food, hiked through a dry river bed, and rode camels! This is where we were:



I walked up to him (her? it?) and said "Hi. I'm Amy. Please don't dump me off your back and on to my butt." I turned to the camel handler and asked if he had a name. He just looked at me funny (maybe he only spoke Hebrew?). So I turned back to the camel, rubbed his nose, and deemed him Sandy from that day forward. (Camels live in the desert. The desert has sand.. hence the name Sandy! Utter genius on my part.)

I named him because I think everything deserves a name. Usually I name inanimate objects.. like Tiger my car (because she growls when I hit the gas) or Stevie the TV (sometimes I steal clever things from the TV show, Friends)

I gave him a name. He spit at me (and missed, so HA!). I took that as a sign of approval.

The handler hit Sandy in the knees (blatant animal abuse. not good, won't get into it) and he laid down. Emily, another girl on my trip, and I hopped on his back. Sandy stood up and we joined a line of our friends atop camels. Once everyone was on a camel back, away we went!

Look Ma, no hands!



The ride was bumpy but fun. Sandy and the other camels were well-behaved and only spit on a few people. The view was spectacular! The Negev desert is a gorgeous place and unlike any other terrain I had ever seen (no deserts in Bawlmer). We rode around for probably half an hour before I had to say goodbye to Sandy. It was a sad moment. I teared up. He spit. Ahh true love <3

I Jumped Out of a Plane… ‘Nuff Said - Part 2

I was all dressed up in my (oh so sexy) body suit and ready to go.



Then Lance the Skydiver came over with his camera. (He was going to video tape my jump by strapping a camera to his head and jumping at the same time as me.) "Any last words?!?"

"Umm.. Bye Mom!" (Eek! My mom had no clue that I was jumping out of a plane... If I survive, SHE is going to kill me!)

We got into the little puddle jumper and up-and-away we went! The plane ride was actually pretty relaxing. It was a nice view of the Bay and green cornfields. The relaxation was cut short when Bobby the Tandem Dude said, "Alright! Just about time to jump out of this plane. Sit in front of me so we can get hooked up." (Oh. Shit.)

We scooched around in the cramped quarters of the tiny little puddle jumper. He hooks and snaps some things and there we are, hooked up tight (I hope).

Lance the Skydiver looked at me and laughed. "You ready?!" He flipped open the door. *BANG!* It slams against the wing. Freezing cold air whooshes into the plane. "NO! I'M NOT READY!"

"Too bad!" Bobby the Tandem Dude said as he moved us towards the door. Lance the Skydiver, with the video camera on his head, is sitting on the butress of the wing, outside the cabin of the plane, looking at me as I frantically tried to hold on to something.

Bobby and I are in the door frame. I looked down... The green farmland shows through the white haze of clouds. It looks so far away...



Whoosh! Bobby pushed us out of the plane! We flipped twice before stabalizing in our "beached whale" falling position. I'm screaming and laughing and generally spazzing out... but having the most amazing, thrilling time. Air and clouds are speeding past us. I waved at Lance and the camera. We free-falled for about 2 minutes.



We jolted in mid-air as the parachute deployed. I held my breath.. Whew it seems like my parachute worked just fine!



We began floating down towards Earth. Bobby, strapped to my back, pointed out landmarks. "There is the Bay... and way down there is the field we will land in."

He let me hold the ropes and spin us for a bit. (That was probably the scariest part of the whole thing! I got really dizzy!)

As my heart beat returned to normal, we landed safely in the field near the planes. Lindsay and Lee ran over to me. "How was it?!?"

Words can't even express how amazing it was. As I took off the gear, I called my mom.

"Hi Mom! Guess what I did today.." "What?" "I went sky diving!" "You did WHAT?! SKY DIVING?! OH MY GOD! LIKE OUT OF A PLANE? OH MY GOD! YOU JUMPED OUT OF A PLANE?!? ARE YOU ALIVE? IN ONE PIECE?! OH MY GOD!" hahahaha

After that, I called my dad.

"Glad you are alive!!! How was it?"

"Daddy, I touched the clouds!"

Enjoy the video! :-)

I Jumped Out of a Plane… ‘Nuff Said - Part 1

A little girl, around the age of 5, all curls and big brown eyes, sat next to her Daddy on a plane, thousands of miles in the air.

Nose pressed to the window, watching the white wisps speed past, her breath fogged up the glass. Turning to her father, she said "Daddy, I want to touch a cloud! I want to know what they feel like!"

Gripping the arm rest with white-knuckled hands, he replied, "Aim, you are crazy!"

"Aim, you are crazy!" my dad repeated 17 years later. I told him I was going skydiving.

So on September 3, 2009, my friend Lindsay picked me up and we drove across the Bay Bridge to the little town of Easton, Md to go skydiving.

We turned on to a gravel drive way lined with cornfields and parked near a trailer with the words "Skydive Maryland" emblazoned across the side. (I guess we are in the right place.)

We met up with Lindsay's friend Lee, who was jumping too. The three of us walked around the trailer, looking for people. We saw a few buildings and a bunch of little 2-seater planes. (Oh crap, is THAT what I jump out of? For some reason, I had been picturing myself falling out of a Jumbo Jet or a 747 but looking at these little puddle jumpers makes me uncomfortable. Could they even get high enough for me to safely jump out of it?!)

We walked into the office and talked to the guy who works there, Lance. He comforted me some by saying he has jumped out of a plane THOUSANDS of times. (Hmm... he still seems to be in one piece.)

We signed a few legal papers and I felt like I'm signing my life away. (Apparently, if I die, I can't sue them. Well that makes sense, because I'll be DEAD! Oh... but my parents, kids, kids' kids, cousins, mother-in-laws, etc. can't sue either. Maybe I should have bought a life insurance policy before I decided to leap to my death from 10,000 feet. Oh well... too late now! I signed on the dotted line. *Gulp*)

Lance the Skydiver brought us out to the field where all the planes were parked. He explained that we were the only people who were jumping that day so they only had a small staff on hand. Since each of us were doing a tandem jump (meaning we had an expert plane-leaper strapped to our backs), we would each go up in the plane and jump separately.

He showed us the gear and gave us a little bit of training. I figured training would consist of learning to pull the cord for the chute and how to land some place other than a tree. But no. We had to lay down on our stomachs, arch our backs and put our arms and legs up... kind of like a beached whale. This is the position we would be in while falling. And that's all the training we got because apparently the tandem dude does the rest. (What if he is old and has a heart attack before he pulls the chute cord?!)

So then we met Bobby, the guy who will (hopefully) get us from the airplane to the ground safely. (And he is kind of old! And kind of crazy. Hey at least if I die, I'll die doing something crazy, with a crazy person.) If I'm going to trust anyone to keep me alive while skydiving, it would be Bobby. He has been skydiving for 30+ years, doing at least one or two jumps almost every single day.

Lindsay went first... I gave her a big hug and asked her to please not die. Lee and I sat near the training center and watched the plane take off. We chatted with another guy, Shawn, who is a hang glider (yup, hang gliding got added to my Life List!). He was sitting in a golf cart, ready to pick Lindsay and Bobby the Tandem Dude up from the big field that they will (hopefully) land in.

The three of us were chatting when all of a sudden Shawn looked to the sky and said "Is that..?!? Noo..." Lee and I looked to the sky and saw Lindsay floating down toward the field and everything looked fine. Then we saw a black thing floating down away from them. We were confused and Shawn wouldn't say anything more.

She landed just fine and came over to us, looking a little shocked. We asked how it went and she said it was fun but she had a scary ride. As they were falling, Bobby went to pull the cord and goes "Oh shit." and they continued falling. A few seconds later, he pulled another cord and the parachute came out. Apparently, the first chute didn't release, he had to cut it off them (that was the black thing we saw) and he had to use the RESERVE CHUTE!!! (Holy crap.)

Apparently that only happens about once every 6 years. So Lindsay defied the odds and survived. I guess I'll be ok.

(Don't want my posts to be too long.. my own skydiving experience is in the next post!)