Conquering the fears that haunt us

2007 appears to be the year for conquering my deepest, darkest fears. Since January 1st, I have rented The Ring, The Grudge and The Exorcist, all of which I had previously and resolutely avoided. In fact, just the trailer for The Grudge on television was enough to keep me awake with the lights on for years. Similarly, I had seen three seconds of Linda Blair in The Exorcist as a child, and run screaming from the room, vowing never to clap eyes on it again. Well, in the last month, I have rented and watched all three films. In the dark. Alone. And you know what? They weren't as terrifying as I expected. They're scary as hell, but I still find real life even scarier, so good horror films (which, like good romantic love stories take us out of the debilitating here and now) are hardly going to finish me off now. All that fuss for nothing!

So, with that in mind...having conquered my fear of flying hundreds of times, it's now time for me to give serious consideration to the one remaining fear which lurks beneath. As luck would have it, I depart for Hawaii on May 15th. How do I get my hands on Keanu's Point Break wetsuit?