Friday August 15: spent the day on Isla Caja de Muertos. I've been there once before and wanted to go back. Although I'm not a huge beach person, I felt this odd urge to just spend the day at a beach. A good one, too, not one here in Chicago. The water was colder than I remember. I brought my snorkel and fins and took them out for a couple of nervous spins. I'm terrified of the water. But, this is something I want to spend more time doing. My PADI cert is still only halfway completed, and I may have to start over from the beginning at this point. Some other guy mentioned seeing rays in a different part of the ocean...I'm kinda glad I didn't see anything like that. Again, sea life kinda terrifies me. I'd prefer to see it with an experienced guide before venturing out on my own. Also: will I ever get used to salt water? How do divers cope? Came back to the hotel, napped, had dinner at the hotel restaurant. After a day of not really eating anything, the chicken caesar salad and margarita hit the spot. Oh, side note: just before leaving the island, I noticed a stream of tiny red ants crawling around in the sand by my head. I figured they'd been there the whole time, so didn't think too much about it. Packed everything up, came back to the hotel...only to find that a swarm of red ants had infested my open box of Triscuits that I had bought at the Pueblo and taken to the island. Oops. I had red ants all over my bed...I brushed them off and threw the half-full Triscuits box away, hoping that'd be the end of it...I don't think any of them came back to Chicago with me, but I won't be surprised....
Saturday August 16: flew from SJU to EWR on the 5:30am flight. I thought for sure that I was not going to get a seat, but St. Joseph or whoever was smiling upon me - I got a seat in an exit row with no middle passenger. Slept the whole way to EWR. My plan was to go on to Seattle via Denver (so, SJU-EWR-DEN-SEA) to visit a new friend (Kate), but I did not get a seat on the Denver flight. I opted for a flight back to Chicago, but my checked bag did not come with me. Flight to ORD was uneventful.
Monday August 18: day from hell, travel-wise. Way, way too many people in the system. Tried for a 6am flight to Denver, no chance in hell - I think I was 25th on a list of 52, vying for 3 open seats. I experienced extreme indecisiveness over which route to try (considered an off-the-beaten-path route LAX-COS-ORD), but I settled on LAX-CLE-ORD - which actually worked. I got the last seat on the 6:13am flight to CLE (an aisle seat next to a couple of skinny girls, which was fine - slept most of the way once again), then had another stroke of luck when the flight to ORD was pretty much the next gate over, was in the middle of boarding, and I already had a seat assignment when I inquired at the desk. This was a middle seat in the back, but no biggie, just a one-hour flight. I was home by 3 or 4pm, and considered myself very lucky. (An acquaintance was going to San Diego on my buddy passes this weekend - he made it there, but didn't make it back. Ended up buying a ticket.) I also put in a request to have my SEA bag returned to ORD...we'll see how long that takes. Nothing really vital in it, but I certainly want my snorkel, fins, and GoPro back!!
I loved this weekend. I spent far too much money, but loved all the walking and traveling and *moving* I did. Now I'm back here in Chicago, and I feel...sedentary. There was a boardgame meetup at Mystic Celt...I should've gone. I put it down to fatigue that I didn't, but that's a lie. I just feel...odd, here. In San Juan and L.A., I felt more friendly, more outgoing - maybe because I don't live there and people won't remember me? Or they can't judge me? Or that their judgments won't matter because they'll never see me again? I honestly don't know. Here, I feel terrified to leave the house. Ugh.
