I put the awk in "aquatic"

      Maybe it's because I'm fed up with this psycho Charlie Sheen weather (sunny and upwards of 60 degrees, then rainy and downwards of 20 degrees), but for whatever reason I find myself reflecting on summer--which naturally makes me grimace.  Don't get me wrong, I love summer just as much as the next girl.  What's not to love about a few months of peace and solitude--away from nagging professors, term papers, the dreaded group projects that seem to pop up in EVERY class, and, of course, the long "walk of shame" to class.  No, no, summer--I LOVE.  It's the whole "let's go to the pool, drown ourselves in so much tanning oil that we look artificial, and strut around in our newest ADORABLE Victoria's Secret bikini!" thing that makes me want to dive (okay, belly flop) into the deep end and never come up for air ever again.

     Why girls love being poolside is beyond me.  I guess it's something to add to my "things I loathe with a fiery passion that is only rivaled by the Kardashians' passion for insane amounts of eye makeup" list (hula hoop-ing, watching movie sex scenes, and interacting with people is also high up on that list, in case you were wondering).  WHY does a nice trip to the pool make me wish that I lived in that lonely cave with the abominable snowman from Monster's Inc?  Let me count the ways:

1) Simply put, this summer when you tell your mom you're "going to the Red Lobster's!" she'll know that you aren't going to an overpriced, mediocre wannabe seafood restaurant (though if you haven't tried their biscuits, you should probably just go back to whatever planet you hail from), but merely coming to my house for a Harry Potter movie marathon.

2) The only time I'll ever be comfortable wearing an itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka dot bikini is when national "wear an itsy bitsy teenie weenie yellow polka dot bikini and get free Chipotle for life!" day comes around--until then, I'll pass.

3) "Do you wanna play with these diving sticks?"  Sure, why don't you just smother me in honey and direct me to the nearest bear-infested national park, while you're at it?  These pool games or "drool games" (as I lovingly refer to them) were more common in my neon star shaped sunglasses, tankini-wearing days, but, needless to say, I'm still scarred.  I put the AWK in "aquatic."  I can't dive, I flounce around like a mutant seahorse and call it "swimming," and I'm still semi-convinced a shark inhabits the bottom of the deep end.

4) Disrobing myself at the pool is, without a doubt, THE most vulnerable I will EVER feel--EVER.  I always feel like some weird wannabe subpar stripper when I take off my shirt and shorts and reveal my milky pallor to the world (for this is before I reach lobster status, you see).  Bruno Mars should seriously change his lyrics to "when you strip down to your bathing suit, the whole world stops and stares for a while."  Seriously.

5)  Last, but not least--the DEATH CHAMBER, oops, I mean the bathroom.  If you don't wear shoes in there, good luck trying to get rid of the athlete's foot/herpes/fungi/mold/questionable new species that has now taken residence on your feet.  Not to mention, some people actually take real showers in there and there's like naked babies doing somersaults everywhere.  It's just a really messed up situation that I try to avoid at all costs (and no, I do not pee in the pool, don't worry).

Well, if you ever wondered why I always refer to a "pool" of awkwardness, there ya have it.  Too many awkward occurrences there, and not enough aloe in the WORLD to make ANY of it okay.

Peace, Love, and whistles (from the lifeguard because you keep hanging on the lane line).

Awkward Girl