Wednesday 13 June 2012

Falling, Writing, Tiny Tents

Wow, these past two months have been hectic! Been pushing to get my book published and writing said manuscript like a maniac. Anyway, right to it. My three thinks for the day are:

Falling - And I refer to this in the most mundane way possible. I am not talking about falling in love, falling in debt or even falling into the abyss that is your mind. I am talking about the simple act of missing a step or tripping on a shoelace and then hitting the ground in full force. It may seem cruel, but I cannot help but find it funny when people fall. The act is so human - all sense of dignity is lost and any trace of status goes out the window. All that is left is air, gravity and ground. No-one is immune to it.
I do, however, have a theory about it. I think there are two categories that we can...ahem...fall into. You are either very clumsy and find yourself tripping over things on a regular basis, without any too serious injuries... Or you only have about seven or eight spectacular falls throughout your life. I find myself in the second category.
I have a good sense of balance and I have always prided myself on the fact that I am almost "untippable". Two nights ago, though, we were sharing stories and I suddenly realised that was not quite true. I don't have as many stories, but they are pretty fantastic.
Exhibit A: I broke both my arms exactly one year apart from each other, in exactly the same way. On Valentine's weekend when I was 13, a friend and I were playing on the swings in a nearby park. Chains broke, I went flying and came up with one arm skewer than the other. My dad was not impressed. Then, on Valentine's weekend at the age of 14, we went camping. My best friend and I sneaked off so we wouldn't have to help in setting up. We found a rope swing hanging from a tree on top of a hill... I swung. Rope snapped. I flew. Came back to camp with my other arm doubling over on itself. My dad was even less impressed.
Exhibit B: In my final year at university, I came running out of the library (late for class - again). There were these little spinning turn stall thingies (at perfect upper leg height) that you had to go through, which opened when you swiped your student card. I came running at full speed, holding my card outstretched in front of me for a quick escape. The exit I chose, however, was broken. So I swiped in the running, only to collide with the barrier and somersault right over it, papers and books raining down in the lobby. I could barely walk for a week.
Exhibit C: Walking back from town when I was still in school, bags full of snacks and new books and shampoo, I was singing to myself and daydreaming (as you do) on my way back to hostel. Stepped onto sidewalk. Foot went onto concrete, shoe went underneath into drain. Cue catapult action with parcels shooting overhead and me falling flat on my face. After lying there for a few moments, I looked up to see the oranges I'd bought rolling on down the street and a vindictive 10-year old crushing my Oreos with his bicycle, laughing his head off.
Point taken?




Writing - If you've been following my blog, you'll have noticed how I refer to the book I'm writing from time to time. It's part of a Fantasy series that I'm aiming to complete within the next five years or so. Been working on it for a few years already, and it's finally at the point where publishers are having a look at it. I find the whole thing so unreal. I've always wanted to write, ever since the librarians started greeting me by name and my 'friends' laughed at me in my face when I suggested browsing through a bookstore (stuff 'em). Anyway, it had always been more of a pipe-dream, something I'd do when I retired. I made a few attempts at writing, as a hobby, but nothing quite stuck. Then, this idea started brewing in my head. I started dreaming of the story at night and eventually I couldn't get my mind off it at all. And so it began. It has brought so much joy, so much peace, to my life and I know that this is what I want to do. I am loving every step of the journey. Will keep you posted.

Tiny Tents - This is something that happened about 4 years ago. We've shared the story over and over and it's one of the most memorable moments in our friendship, so I decided to immortalise it. When we were still studying, my husband (boyfriend at that time), his best friend, my bff and I were spending the December holidays together. Now remember, in Africa this is high summer. For new years' eve, we decided to go camping somewhere - anywhere. We divided the packing responsibilities amongst ourselves: I was in charge of food and drink, Lina sorted the bedding, Hubby took care of all things fire and Pees was to bring the tent. We had made no reservations (as usual), so we just bunched into the car and headed out into the bushveld, not sure where we'll end up.
After driving around for hours (and fighting over every place we found), we finally settled on a deserted spot next to a random river. Perfect. His Manliness started the fire and I gave out drinks. We laughed and joked and swam and braai'ed our 1kg steaks (yeah) until it grew dark. Then it started.
When the meat was ready, I realised I'd never packed cutlery or plates. Oops. No worries, though, the cooler box served as a perfectly good plate for the four of us. Midnight came and we greeted the new year loud and proud - by chasing away the baboons from our food. Finally, we grew sleepy enough to pitch the tent. Pees unloaded it and set it up by himself within a matter of minutes - because he'd accidentally packed the 2-man tent. We bickered over it, but fatigue won and we braved the tiny tent. So there we were, squashed in on our sides, all four of us on the hard ground - because Lina had forgotten ALL THE BEDDING. No pillows, no foam mattress, not even one blanket. After grunting and shoving each other, we were almost comfortable when the one side of the tent gave in and Himself was nearly smothered by the nylon. We'd pushed his face right into the material and from outside, he now looked like an orc being born. Fighting for air and going into a complete frenzy, he sprang out of the tent and marched to the car. I went after him, thinking he might have a good idea. Settling down in the front seats, relieved that we could stretch out, we were met by the Number One annoying sound in the world: mosquitoes. An entire swarm had moved into the car and attacked at the same time. Horrified, we jumped out and ran back to the tent, almost pulverising the other two as we squashed back in.
After a while, we started laughing. We threw a last few insulting comments at each other, and closed our eyes. That's friendship.

Don't take yourself too seriously, follow your instincts and embrace your maddening friends. They're the ones who'll laugh at, and with you.