Day Two

*this entry has the same date as Day One, because Day One i was too frickin' excited to be there that keeping a journal didn't occur to me. so i went back and wrote down a paragraph for the first day*

7/31

"Tomorrow I would have been a newly certified Open Water Diver for 14 days. Two weeks ago, I passed my written test and received my temporary card. I can float, swim, snorkel, fin pivot, navigate, rescue someone by passing them an octopus, and most importantly, breathe underwater.
I accepted an invitation from Josh Shields to go for one week to Paradise and spend most of it underwater, swimming with the fishes. Wanting to pursue something in the marine science field, I managed to convince my parents that I would undoubtedly need to learn to scuba dive eventually anyway. That way, if I absolutely hated it, I could go ahead and kiss the ocean life goodbye. I didn’t hate it. I loved it instantly, even despite the fact that I had no prescription mask and to be content with wearing those evil, horrid, uncomfortable contact things. My passport come in time, with a blazing of joy on my part, as it had taken me five tries to get the damn thing sent off (heaven forbid that people at a courthouse actually tell you what you need in one trip). And on July 30th, 2005, I loaded my duffel, my backpack and myself into Debbie Shield’s Mercedes along with Josh , Josh’s Dad (not yet sure if I should call him Doug or Mr. Shields; I call Josh “Shields” most of the time and now I get one 18 year old answer and one 50-ish year old answer). We stay for one night at the nicest hotel I have ever been in (the Westin in Charlotte). I sleep in the other, and then am waken up at 5:53am (I checked) by Josh’s dad knocking on my door. Mr. Shields is a very hyper man, hardly even pausing to sleep when he gets interested in something, although I have seen him close his eyes in three thousand different places and be instantly adrift for five minute cat naps. Apparently being an E. R. doctor enables you to come with an on/off switch that any lack of movement triggers. We’re supposedly here so that he can “relax,” but for all that he stops dead every five minutes, grins at Josh and proclaims, “We’re back in Paradise Josh-o,” he doesn’t show any sign of slowing down. Fine by me. I can’t sleep anyway, I might as well be doing something. I have never flown before. And now in one day, I have been in the air from 8:15am in Charlotte , to 11:45am in Atlanta, to 2:30(ish) in Miami, I have been in the air for nearly an entire day, I like the take-off, the landing, and, of course the turbulence. I do not enjoy endless time spent trying to futilely pacify my inner ear. So I spent most of my time asleep, or waking up Josh occasionally (as he flew the first time when he was 1week old, and spent most of his life at the Crown room in Atlanta, it seems) to point out interesting land or sky prettiness below, around or above us. I worked very hard for this trip, this chance, and now, considerably lighter on the monetary-ness, one holy duffel bag and one annoying-seat-hanging passenger later, I am here. Roatan, Bay Islands, Honduras. Sarah E., future world leader (or nemesis, dunno yet) has left the country for the first time and is about to do something most people never even think about: dive the Caribbean."