What's wrong with this picture?

Hi, I'm back. Shane's gone to Italy for 2 weeks which gives me time to write.

I've finally, officially made the decision to move back home to Boston and become no longer "No Wetsuit Girl... OVERSEAS!", but "No Wetsuit Girl... With Absolutly Nothing to Justify Her Silly Online Alius but Now She's Stuck With the URL So What Can You Do?" (No, really, it makes sense, just read the story!). But then again, you know that.

Today I finally got around to breaking the news to Silvia (my girlfriend), and that was definitely horrible. But then again, you read that post too.

So, understandably I've been hyper sensative in the last month to vibes and signs and feelings and emotions that 3 years of living in California taught me, plus one extra credit year of living with Californians finding themselves abroad. One needs these things to decide whether somewhere is a good space or a bad space, you see. So today I went to my swimming pool space, which is also home to my triathlon club presence.

Now let me take a minute to explain to you why my triathlon club is toxic to my aura. When I joined in January they offered me this sweet deal that they would pay for my triathlon license, give me the club membership for free, and pay the entry fee for all the "Catalan Cup" events if I would only agree to participate in 5 races this season. It was a sweet deal, but that was before my soul got sick (ie my relationship drew me away - begrudgingly - from my dreams of athletic excellence). So now we're 2/3 of the way through the season, I'm leaving in 3 weeks, and I've only done one race in which I lost the chip (or never had one to lose), and pulled out of another cuz I couldn't get to the start on time. We call these omens in California.

So basically, I'm a giant flake. I never flake, but this year I've been like a box of special K. Flakey McFlakerson, that's me.

Last night I couldn't sleep (as usual) and I was trying to find a legit excuse to get out of this week's race in East Bum Fuck because there's no public transport and I don't want to admit I'm poor. I could say that I'm injured, I've been deported, I was in a car accident, or my bike was stolen... I needed a distraction. I got up and signed on to myspace and decided to write to my little student's little boyfriend since I'd heard they'd "split up" and I wanted to make sure he was okay. WELL, let me tell you, if you translate "split up" from Spanish "break up" and "take a break" translate to the same thing. Imagine my surprise when I get an email from Nacho saying,

"Pepe* didn't tell me that we were broken up, only that we were
taking time apart to think. Thank you for saving me the heartache
and thank you for all your support this summer while
he was in Wisconsin!"

Oh shit. OH SHIT! No sleep tonight for Claire, especially since I was going to have to break the news to my own girlfriend that we were "splitting up" the very next day.

*name changed to protect the identity of a minor.

So I woke up tired after a fitful dream about a homocidal kitten (no, I'm serious) and decided to go swimming. Some people can think when they run or bike, I can only think clearly when I'm watching the black line at the bottom of the pool. Maybe it's the zen of the regular breathing, zero gravity, and sound deprivation. My plan: 3 sets of 1000 meters at a pace I could think at, no faster, no slower.

Now usually I'm the fastest one in the pool and the only one over 10 who's not obese, but half way through my second 1000 I noticed that the guy next to me is going faster than me, and so were both the guys in the lane next to mine. Pushing off the wall I saw that they all had the body type of Adonis. "Oh God, don't let it be the triathlon club, don't let it be the triathlon club!" I begged. After another 500 meters I stopped to "rest" and tried to get an idea of who they were. I was having trouble distinguishing a face I knew and starting to get optimistic that maybe it was just a swim team when I saw that one of the Adonises in the next lane was wearing an "IRONCAT" cap. SHIT! It IS the triathlon club! And they were doubled up 5 lanes deep! The pool suddenly became a toxic space.

I immediately understood the sign and got out of the pool and went to the women's dressing room where they wouldn't find me. All showered and dressed I had nothing better to do than to go home and break up with my girlfriend. I signed up for an aquathlon in a couple weeks to try and redeem myself and ran out the door before they could make me feel bad any longer.