Fucket List

Somewhere along the dash to check off each item on a lengthy Bucket List, I realized that some things are better on paper. That is why I am starting my Fucket List. It's time to face the facts-- there are things worth abandoning.

Item Number One: PADI certification.

I'm completely certain that I will love scuba diving as a hobby or vacation activity, but the life and death nature of diving to great depths of the ocean as some sort of expert isn't for this girl. I don't want to take my mask off under water and get it back on without snorting sea water through my nose and panicking, rocketing back to the surface where the bends threaten my blood. I don't want my water supply to be secretly turned off. I am not going to remember the stupid hand signals for my buddy to give me his octopus (back-up air supply) so that I don't die. There is no way I can take my weight belt off under water and get it back on without cracking myself in the head, which is actually hard to do. Not to mention the fact that the oxygen tank weighs half of what I do, making it a nightmare to get into the water once I have the tank, the weight belt and the fins on. For all you jerks that thought I was certifiable, you were incorrect.

So to the Professional Association of Diving Instructors, to you I say FUCKET!!