And I'm Free... Free Fallin'

So as not to keep you avid readers in suspense (because I know you have just been dying with antici--pation), Nancy and I actually did it. We jumped out of a plane--some of us with old men on our backs--and can now live to tell about it.

This past Saturday, September 5th, we ventured all the way to Tennessee Skydiving LLC in Tullahoma, TN to mark this daring feat off of our bucket list. Upon arriving at the registration trailer--yes, literal trailer--for our 2:00pm appointment, we were told that we were not on the list. ...Not on the list. You should have seen my face. (And no, it was not a smiling one.) So after sorting through the initial confusion, we realized that a certain lackadaisical "woman who keeps the mandate" (as I believe her official title was) had conviently scheduled us to jump from their West Tennessee center based on her assumption from my phone number's area code. And of course, we all know what assuming does... And this case was no different for her. But in trying to cover her ass mistake, she swore that we had received a confirmation call 48 hours earlier because they had gotten everyone's confirmation number. Lie. And being the kind soul she was, she offered to try her hardest to fit us into a sunset jump if they had the time. How nice...

But to make a long(er) story short, we were able to jump at sunset. After having the time of our lives sleeping in a random parking lot in Tullahoma, Tennessee for two hours, we finally got the call that they could fit us in. After arriving back at Tennessee Skydiving LLC for the second time that day, Nancy insulted kindly showed the owner the errors of his way and I just so happened to have a hormonal, emotional breakdown in the middle of the forementioned trailer. But in doing so, we were finally able to get confirmation from the West Tennessee center that there was indeed never a confirmation number for our party, and in turn, we were not to blame. Told you so. So after a very, very minor dent small discount, we were able to gear up and jump.

And those of you who know Nancy can probably imagine how wound up she was. Not that she was just completely freaking out, but there were just so many questions. Also not suprisingly, her and her instructor we BFFs from the very beginning. My instrustor and I, on the other hand, had a bit of a different relationship. Let's just say that he is the guy you see in the picture above and he introduced himself be saying "My name is Harold, but they call me Daddy Harold"... Yeah, I'll let you draw your own conclusions about that one... But to tell the complete truth, he was actaully a really good instructor.

Anywho, I am sure you are ready to hear about the actuall sky diving itself. It was... okay. I say that becuase it is not exactly what I expected. It wasn't as big of a rush as I thought it would be. And I think alot of that has to do with the fact that I just kept dwelling on how much the freakin' harness was cutting into my leg. Honestly, the jump wasn't as bad as people make it out to be at all. And I wish I would have known that before jumping. Because I could have definitely relaxed more and, more importantly, remembered to breath when we first fell out of the plane!! But yes, I would defenitely do it again, but in the words of Nancy--and I am going to hate myself for using this word-- but "someplace more epic".

And best of all, we're still alive!!! (Lucky for you, avid readers!)