Summer feet

After a week of wearing loafers with no socks, my feet kind of smell like Fritos.

And I am kind of in to that.

Oh The HugeManatee!

Several months ago, I escaped the Northeast for sunny Florida to have an adventure with nature’s beast, AKA the manatee.  I donned an oh-so-flattering wetsuit and gently lowered myself off the boat along with my fellow snorkelers. I say “gently lowered” rather than “dived” because

1) we were in 3 feet of water, and 

2) manatees are afraid of splashing (Doesn’t that make you love them even more!?)

Manatees, some alone, some in groups, and a few pairs of mothers and babies swarmed us. Sucking on our wetsuits, flapping our tushies with their flippers, and swimming between our legs and lifting us up. I truly felt like I was in a magical world of unicorns who shit sunshine, rainbows, and sparkles.

To commemorate the experience, I purchased copious amounts of manatee kitsch, including a  charm necklace with the spitting image of one of my favorite mannie’s that I met that day. I wore it for the first time yesterday and anytime I got stressed out at work or school, I rubbed its belly (as I did that day in the sea) and a calm came over me. 

As you can imagine, I became alarmed when, later that evening, I realized it was gone.  I scoured and retraced my steps, hoping it was somewhere in my house, or caught on my sweater, but my manatee was nowhere to be found. Resigned, I went upstairs and got ready for bed. As I took off my brassiere, what should pop out, I mean, besides my boobs?... MY MANATEE NECKLACE!

Just like the memories of my magical manatee snorkel, the necklace was held close and safe in my bosom all along.