In Which Jess Does Some Crazy Shiznit

Well, since I last posted, I've been busy working on my bucket list. And as promised, I'm here to give you all the deets.

On Thursday, I checked off "get a tattoo:"

Extreme close-up.
(~3 minutes post-tat)

Why dandelions, you ask? (Or, if you're my mother, just "why?")

Well...

1. Dandelions are tough and stubborn, like me. 
2. Many people see dandelions as weeds, but to me, they've always been pretty flowers. My tattoo reminds me how much of a difference your mindset can make. 
3. The day after I made my tattoo appointment, my students brought me dandelions at recess for the first time, which melted my cold dead heart and reminded me that, even though they drive me completely batty at times (read: pretty much ALL the time), they are still sweet little humans at heart and they do love me. Hopefully my tattoo will help me remember that in upcoming school years as well. 

I've had this idea in my head for a while, and I'm so happy with how it turned out.

I was pretty nervous when the time came, though. I mean--I don't know if you're aware---a tattoo is PERMANENT. Even though I was sure that it was what I wanted, when it was actually time to walk in the door and do it, I was SHAKY. But as soon as the stencil was on my body, and I could actually see the design right there on my skin, I relaxed and was completely fine.

Whenever I talked to someone about my tattoo beforehand, and I told them where I planned to get it, they would wince and say, "Really? The ribs hurt pretty bad." Well, either they were overstating it, or I'm just super tough (and I like to think it's the latter), because I barely felt any pain. The biggest discomfort was when it was time to get up from the chair and look in the mirror; my arm had fallen asleep from holding it over my head for so long.  🤣

If you're in the HoCo area and looking to get a tattoo,
I totally recommend Casey Hart at Rose Red Tattoo...she did a fantastic job!

So now your favorite blogger is all inked up! Check that off the bucket list. 🗹

Friday morning dawned hot but clear; good weather for the next thing on my list of to-dos,  something that's been on my bucket list since my bucket list's very inception: skydiving.

I went to Skydive Delmarva, which I'd heard good things about from a friend who's working on his A-license. It was a bit of a hike (a 2-hour drive), but it was absolutely worth it.

I rolled up around 10:45am and proceeded to thoroughly read--and yet somehow still screw up on--the lengthy waiver. After signing my life away, I was introduced to my tandem skydiving instructor, Chris, a massive former Special Forces guy whose mere presence made me feel a whole lot safer about the whole jumping-out-of-a-plane thing, and my personal videographer, Ed, a 70-something-year-old with 2,000+ skydives under his belt. #goals

Fifteen minutes later, I was strapped into my harness and profusely sweating--from the 95° heat, not from nerves, I'll have you know--as the plane taxied into the loading zone.

Locked and loaded.

I realized as the plane lifted off that it was my first time in a small plane. I didn't have much time to dwell on that thought, though; I got distracted by the AC turning on. And by "AC turning on," I mean "the door opening at the back of the plane to get a cool breeze flowing through." I'd never been in a plane (large or small) with the door open mid-flight; I think most people can say the same.

Next thing I knew (really about 10 minutes later), Chris was quintuple-checking my harness and showing me the altimeter: 13,500ft. Time to go!

We were the last ones to leave the plane, but somehow I managed to blink and miss everyone else jumping out the door. All I remember is thinking "Holyshitholyshitholyshitholyshit" as we stood in the doorway, looking down at the ground oh-so-far below. And then suddenly we weren't in the plane anymore.

I don't really have the words to describe what it felt like--you've really got to experience it to understand it--but I'm going to try anyway.

After an initial moment of shock--"I just jumped out of a goddamn airplane!"--all I felt was exhilaration. Pure, unadulterated exhilaration. It was freaking AMAZING.

It all happened so fast, it was as though my brain got left behind and all that was left was pure sensation.

It didn't feel like falling...the air was pushing up on me so hard that it felt more like I was staying in one place while the ground was getting closer.

SO ALIVE

Before I knew it, Chris was pulling the ripcord and all the rushing in my ears abruptly ceased.

Once we were under the canopy and floating at a more sedate pace toward the earth, Chris asked how I felt. My brain still hadn't caught up to my body yet, and the first word I found was, "Cold."

About thirty seconds later, I was slightly more coherent--though even now I still don't have the words to fully express what it felt like--and I was able to tell him how completely mindblown I was, how alive I felt, what a freaking rush it was.

Chris pulled some crazy spins with the parachute on the way down, and we even went weightless for a moment or two, giving me the dropping sensation that I'd expected from the freefall.

I scored some sweet grass stains on my butt as, about 6 minutes after jumping out of a perfectly good airplane, we touched smoothly back down to earth.

Back on solid ground.

Back on the ground, I had no idea what to do with the rest of my day. Before skydiving, I'd had a notion that I might go to the beach, since I was most of the way there already. Post-jump, however, the idea seemed laughably lackluster.

I ended up hanging around, watching as other jumpers, both tandem and solo, came and went. I got to chatting with some of the staff and got a rundown of how the parachutes get packed, and how exactly they work when the ripcord is pulled.

Around 3:00, someone asked me if I wanted to do another tandem jump. My answer was something to the effect of, "Um, DUH!" I guess I hadn't realized that I had been waiting all day for someone to ask me that very question.

Since I didn't have a videographer for my second jump, Chris and I were free to do some crazy barrel rolls right out of the plane. So. Freaking. Fun.

There's nothing quite like looking up at the plane you've just leaped out of.

I got just as much of a rush from my second jump as I did from the first. God, it was fun! (See, I keep repeating myself because I just don't have the words!)

At the end of the video from my first jump, Ed (the videographer) asked me if I thought I'd do it again. I said, "Yeah, I think so." Guess there's no doubt left in anyone's mind now!

So...who's coming with me next time?