Of Bugs and Beaches.

[ladymirth]

I went on a three-day trip to the South and another weekend trip for my Mom’s annual university reunion day, which constituted a whole day and night and a beautiful four star hotel with a little house all to my sis and me, a placid river front at the rear and a lovely pool over-looking the beach which was all kinds of awesome. This is weird for me, because I’ve never really been that interested in beaches before, except to appreciate that they do look nice in the moonlight. I’ve always been kind of “bleh” about it, otherwise. “Sun, sea and sand? Still there, kthnxbai. Moving on.” But this one was freaking awesome, because the weather was this slightly cloudy, pearly perfection and the sunset hung around for freaking hours. That never happens! Usually, it’s “Oh, look! How pretty!”, “What? Where?”, “Garn! Missed it.” There were also boys and girls who were my age and great food and other people to cook and clean up after me. All round great trip, and effectively my much needed “vacation from my vacation”, the latter which refers to the trip down South, which I can only describe as “exhaustive”.

 

However, the true pathos of my life is brought to my attention, when I say that I found myself mentally chronicling Livejournal entries in my head for every interesting little tidbit that ever happened to me all throughout the journey. I read a comic strip like this once. I found it through my flist, so if you’re reading this and you were the one who posted the link to that blog belonging to a scientist who expresses life truisms through stick figures in his comic strip, please let me know. He also dreams of building a Swiss Family Robinson tree house and lives in fear of raptors invading his house ever since he first watched Jurassic Park circa 1993. Can’t miss him.  

 

Well, maybe I’m the verbal equivalent of a shutterbug. Some people go around looking at life from behind the lens of a camera. For them, it hasn’t happened unless you’ve got the pictures to prove it. For us obsessed bloggers, it hasn’t happened unless it’s up on Livejournal. Or is it just me?

 

(You know what’s weird? Microsoft Word still doesn’t recognize the words “blog”, and “bloggers”. Shame on you, Bill!)

 

Continuing in this vein, just to make sure I remember to post all the entries I composed in my head but can’t be buggered to write down right now, I’m going to tell you what to expect. “The Perfect Hat” chronicles one woman’s desperate crusade, braving sun, hot tar and discount sellers to find the perfect straw hat. “Moonlit Murder” contains gruesome reminisces of the 2004 tsunami, during a drive in the moonlight along the South coast. “Yes, He’s Autistic. Next Topic, Please” is a collection of my thoughts based on the reactions of the wide variety of human species toward my little brother. “Two Thousand Five Hundred Years to Arrive At Democracy and Now You Fuckers Want Kings?” is about, well…the topic is self-explanatory. This piece is derived from my reactions to the various historical landmarks I visited.

 

There now. Hopefully I shall have them all up within the month.

 

To share a piece of witticism with you; the following is a conversation regarding the open-roofed bathroom of our cabin at the hotel.

 

Me: Bah! Open bathrooms indeed! Open House for All Creepy, Crawly Beasties And Things That Go Bzzt In The Night, more like! This place is like something out of a Goosebumps novel. I bet the management is really giant bugs dressed up like humans who lure unsuspecting humans to this place so they can feed them to their brethren. It’s all part of their Grand Plan for World Domination By Bug. Like Aliens, only without the outer-space.

 

Chuti: (rolls eyes) FYI, I didn’t see a single insect all the time I was here.

 

Me: Well, it’s hardly surprising that even insects find you repellent. I found a beetle in my loofah, and last night I was ambushed by a bee. Or maybe it was a wasp. It could even have been a hornet!

 

Chuti: I didn’t hear screaming, so I don’t believe you.

 

Me: Well, I am woman enough to admit that I would’ve screamed, but you know, Rule Number One when ambushed by a Deranged Bee Who Might Be A Wasp Or Even A Hornet, is not to provoke it.  

 

Chuti: Really? And you expect me to believe you got near enough to swat it away? You, She Who Runs From Ant Hills?

 

Me: ‘Course not. I have respect for life. I do not swat at that which threatens my sanity, unless I am forced to. I used my considerable skills in diplomacy and articulation and persuaded it to leave me unmolested.

 

Chuti: You persuaded it?

 

Me: I negotiated with it.

 

Chuti: You negotiated with a bee?

 

Me: I negotiated with a wasp who might’ve been a hornet.

 

Chuti: …..

 

Me: ….

 

Chuti: …….

 

Me: Okay, so I recited the Dhammachakkapawatthana Sutra at it till it got bored and flew out the grill.

 

Chuti: You actually remember all of the Dhammachakkapawatthana Sutra?

 

Me: It was a bug. I figured it wouldn’t know if I cheated in the middle.

 

Yes, I need to emulate Nobby Nobbs, and get myself a government issued piece of paper swearing that I am sane, and pose not threat tot the general public. Shouldn’t be hard to get, what with all the government corruption nowadays.