And that's when things got weird

And I was down for lessons  By Beth Bresnahan  For the Summer 2016 issue of 01907 The Magazine I recently booked the trip of my lifetime: a two-week vacation to Hawaii with a group of friends. Almost  immediately after purchasing the tickets, I downloaded a Jack Johnson album and began fantasizing about how I  would soon be dancing the hula, frolicking in a bikini on the sandy beaches of Maui and catching waves  alongside champion surfer Kelly Slater.  The ukulele and chill lyrics of my new playlist helped me temporarily escape the reality that I have zero rhythm,  not to mention I’m Irish-girl pale and not quite in bikini-ready shape. Oh, then there's the issue that I had no  idea how to surf.  Now, I figured I could fake my way through the dancing with the help of a couple of Mai Tais, and a spray tan along with a few extra spin classes could help me get closer to my desired look. But pretending to know how to  surf woul...