Elephants for Sale

April Fools!

Or something.

*Sigh*

[Look. I know. It’s been so long, you might need to revisit my ‘About’ page. Who am I and why am I here? Geez, I might need to revisit my ‘About’ page, but I do recall there was ice cream…]

I’ve decided upon a short, sweet and ranty-post – I write fastest when I’m ranty (don’t we all?).

Three Things I will Never Understand

iceskating elephant

Barbar, ice skating

1. April Fool’s Day

I hold no grudge against the first of April. I’m sure some awesome people are born on this day and may I wish those applicable a belated, but very happy birthday. Other brilliant things might also occur on this day. In my case I baked a cake. We all know though, that April 1st always – always – coincides with a weird report that leads you to momentarily think ‘WHAT!?’ followed very shortly after with a deep throated grunt as you remind yourself it’s April Fool’s Day. Yeah, it’s hilarious; this pranking lark and making people feel stupid – it should be called The Day of LOLs it’s so full of mirth.

Sarcasm ahoy.

Yes, alright then – you’re well aware I’m anti-awkward. As long as everyone is amenable, and no one gets hurt or upset and it’s ‘all in good fun’ then sure, where’s the harm? Equally though, what’s the point? Perhaps having a day dedicated to pranks, hoaxes and foolishness gets it out of the way for the year all at once. And for those like me who dread it, at least I know when to expect it.

2. Spa Baths

When I grew up, I wanted a house with a spa bath. It was the ultimate mod con of the 1980s.

[That’s in Australia, at least. Water beds were also fashionable at this time (whole other blog post), but succeeded in falling back out of fashion.]

[Moving on…]

A spa bath was (in my mind) luxurious – jets of water (which also served to maintain the bubble level) while you laid back with soapy foam up to your chin – how could you tire of that? I even received a Barbie Doll spa bath set for my birthday one year – lucky Barbie! Eventually, in my twenties, I house sat for a friend who owned a spa bath and you can probably imagine my excitement.

That evening, with my glass of wine (that was a new addition to the dream), I ran myself a spa. It used so much water to get the level above the jets, I emptied the hot water cylinder. When I eventually settled in and turned it on, I could no longer hear myself think let alone relax. I turned it off, recognised the dream didn’t match the reality, had an oversized, lukewarm bubble-bath and got out again. Then drank the wine.

I’ve had about three spa baths since then, just in case I was unlucky the first time, and while I didn’t run out of hot water on the other occasions, I no longer understood the allure. Or why it’s a selling point for houses.

3. Skin coloured fabric

My favourite event in the winter Olympics is figure skating. I also love watching ballroom dancing. Both sports are huge fans of skin coloured fabric.

I have a few observations when it comes to skin coloured fabric. Firstly, it’s not invisible. Secondly, is there anyone who shares the same skin colour as this fabric? Thirdly, if your aim is to be more modest (or indeed, warmer), why not just cover yourself up more with more fabric that – I don’t know – matches your actual clothes?

 

Can you enlighten me on any one of these things, or was there something else more confounding you’d like to add?

Happy Friday!

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Elephants for Sale

  1. “Other” Rarasaur hit like on this already. But original-Rarasaur still needed to.

    Spa baths … my current tub looks like a dalek and makes so much noise that I want to wear earplugs. Yep. I don’t get it either.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s