Swimming Upstream

So I’m seriously considering changing the name of this blog to “Sweet Bass”, because of the copious amounts of aquatic fodder that I’ve been supplied with, due to my new adventure of training to become a deep-sea diver.  It’s like I’m the female version of Michael Phelps, except cuter and I don’t have a banana to fit snuggly into a banana hammock.  Anways…. 

Where shall I begin.  Oh, I know.  How about how Leonard thinks that I have an “old lady” bathing suit, because it has “old lady” ruffles on the front.  First of all, it doesn’t have ruffles, it’s ruching to help accentuate my one-pack.  Second of all, old ladies tend to wear tropical print bathing suits that have built in over-the-shoulder-boulder-holders that make their tah-tahs resemble torpedoes.  My bathing suit has not a pastel palm frond in sight, or a built-in cone bra. So there.

But back to my story of how I felt like a salmon trying to swim upstream.  When I got to the pool the other day, I noticed that there were a few fellow Olympic swimmer hopefuls that had beat me to the early bird arrival.  One man, who I believe was alive during the Lousianna Purchase, was doing what I believe were aquatic lunges, while simultaneously doing arm curls with the foam arm “weights”.  And then I saw her;  My water nemesis.  She was  decked out in the typical old lady swim gear, i.e. not my bathing suit.  Black suit with purple and teal tropical flowers, and her lady missiles were creating a wake in the water.  I didn’t realize her plan at first, but after I discovered that I was treading water in the same exact spot for five minutes, and not moving anywhere, I discovered her evil, master craft plan.  Let’s just call my new arch nemesis “Lilly Pad”.  L.P. was walking laps in the pool.  NBD.  Who am I to dog on a person for doing a little water aerobics?  Not this lady. As I furiously tread water in the same spot, I noticed that I was being slightly carried towards Missiles MaGee, I realized her tactic.  Lilly Pad created what I believe was essentially a water vortex.  L.P. wasn’t just walking back and forth, up and down the lane.  Oh no.  She was creating her very own whorl pool by walking in a circle.  The same small circle, over and over and over again.  I think she was threatened by my aquatic prowess.  I mean, it’s not everyday that you come across a thirty-ish mermaid who is gasping for breath as she’s attempting to doggy paddle in her not-old lady bathing suit.    So, being the grown up that I so am, I stood up and huffed at her.  And when I say “huffed” I mean I mean-mugged her to her backside, walked back to the part that allowed me to paddle freely, and sighed heavily.   She probably thought I was just trying to catch my breath from attempting to do the dolphin in her whorl pool of destruction, and didn’t realize that I was actually just exasperated at her.  And exhausted from swimming like a mammal with a blow-hole. 

After her 7,862 laps around, she finally called it quits, and I was able to go back to swim like a sweet, sweet Bass.  Little does Lilly Pad know that tomorrow when I go back, I’m going to be prepared.  I plan on wearing a bathing suit that will give me missile boobs, because those babies can make some headway in a current created by Ms. Palm Fronds.  :)