Seven Peaks

As anyone in my family can tell you, I am not a water park kind of girl. I'm not into swimming, slides that make my stomach go up in to my throat, or anything that involves getting my hair wet. I know it sounds silly but unless you have ethnic hair that you straighten on a regular basis, you won't get it.

My sister Moni and I almost drowned as children on a trip to Cancun. The undertow sucked us so far deep into the ocean that even the lifeguard that spotted us and swam to our rescue needed rescuing himself. I remember quite vividly looking up at the sun through the crashing waves and thinking that was the last image I would ever see. Just as I was about to give up, my Dad pulled me up for air and carried me on his back to dry ground. My mom rescued Moni by the hair and I remember watching in terror as they pumped her chest in the sand waiting for her to come to. Needless to say, I haven't been a big fan of recreational water activies for quite some time. I'm usually the one that volunteers to hang out with the babies at the kiddy pool.

This year I ventured out of my comfort zone and went on some rides and even got my hair wet. It was a blast. I wasn't brave enough to ride Boomerang or anything like that but going out in water above my waist was kind of a big deal for me.

Thanks sistas for dragging me along and not putting up with my lame excuses. Next year I'll have to join you guys on the orange slide. Well, maybe.