Was driving home today and passed West Marine - the very store I was planning to visit in preparation for our upcoming sailing trip - a trip that is seeming more boot camp-like every day. It will be me, my two best friends, and a captain on a 30-foot sailboat for five days in the Florida Keys. The captain is supposed to be teaching us to sail, and since we've never done this before I decided to call the sailing school and inquire about 1) the food, and 2) the drinks.

"So what do we eat?" I asked, knowing that they feed us every day on the boat. "Things women enjoy, like whole grains, fruits and vegetables." Huh? "What about Doritos?" I asked. "And snacks, we like to snack." Silence. "And we're bringing alcohol to drink, so will there be enough room to keep a case of beer cold?" Finally an answer, "We suggest drinking in moderation," the woman told me, "You'll be working on the boat all day." I went on to explain that we'd also like to dock the boat in the evenings and have dinner at some lovely water-side restaurants when possible. More silence. Finally the woman says, "You do realize you're living on a boat, right?"

Well, yeah! But this isn't the marines we're joining, we're paying to learn to sail, not starve. My friend, Lisa, who was smart enough not to join us on this expedition, calls our boat The Titanic. This trip will either be the best time ever or the worst. In any case, I now own a very cool pair of leather gloves with the tips cut off for when I must hoist the jib or do whatever I'll be expected to do (looked cooler than the ones with the full fingers), a neat blue shirt that has water wicking abilities, and the cutest navy blue bucket hat that has no right being worn on a boat designed for wind, but was too cute to pass up.