I have a best friend who is the exact opposite of me. She’s out-going, hyperactive and generally irritating as fuck. But I love her to pieces: I simply cannot help it. She wanted to take me somewhere as a celebration of my University place and since it was a miserable day we were trying to think of something inexpensive and indoors. Two things Hull lacks pushing 4:00pm of an afternoon. But then I got a text saying we were going to the beach. I raised an eye-brow at this (or rather both because my facial muscles are no where near as efficient as my ear-wiggling ones) since, to avoid screen-glare, I had my curtains closed and there was little light but a mauve-haze. I was also quite happy stomping round Cyrodiil and watching crap about haunted chair-legs but I’m rarely one to deny her Pepsi-fuelled, fizzing enthusiasm.
It had in fact brightened up. And so did I at the thought of swimming in the sea. As a child I spent so much time in the sea my family used to call me a water-baby or dolphin. I had been a little disappointed to find out I wasn’t born in a pool and neither could I perform some kind of epic aqua-acrobatics, but the ocean did not lose its appeal. Now, when I was younger I could entertain myself for hours in the sub-freezing temperatures that are the North Sea while the rest of my family shivered in towels, huddled between windbreaks and dug themselves holes deep enough to be warmed by the Earth’s core, but recently it’s become severely dull swimming back and forth between groynes on my own.
And then there was Jade. Not only does she have a car that can take me to the sea but she will swim with me. Admittedly she screams when waves are near having her mouth open for water to come in which is what the screams are in fear of anyway but still…
However, my brightened mood stormed over when I remembered Jade recently got a tattoo of stars down her back and a piercing in her belly button. And nice though they are and bizarre though that is, respectively, she can’t really swim in the sea without risk of infection. I mean further risk of infection; the water is questionable enough without open wounds. I’d had a stomach ache all day anyway so didn’t particularly relish the thought of sitting on a beach feeling sorry for myself, looking longingly at the sea.
And then to add insult to injury when she arrived to pick me up she had her bikini on under her clothes. ‘To sunbathe’. *cries* I burn easily and am quite happy with my exoskeleton of chalk so I wasn’t being reassured I’d enjoy the day.
But we got settled at the far end of the beach and were talking amiably when Jade had the urge to bury me. The traditional, diplomatic
carried on for a while. But then we finally compromised on burying my feet.
I’m even wary of letting people do that to be honest with you. As a child my youngest brother would also bury my feet, but, much to his annoyance, I subconsciously wriggle my toes and this dislodges sand pretty easily. After piling on sand and patting it down gently with a spade he’d get frustrated and smack my exposed toe with the flat of it. As hysterical as this made both of us, it still left my toes a bit battered and sore.
It didn’t take long for Jade to tire of this compromise and ‘accidentally’ flick sand down my bra. After apologising, giggling she found something else to occupy her time: build a wall around me. She was very good at it. I turned to watch a boat being pulled onto a trailer for two minutes and I turned round to find myself peering over the Great Wall of China. Since I didn’t want to move I was well and truly stuck. She was quite amused by my surprise at the height of the walls.
As I watched her using a small, wooden bat to shovel slightly wet sand on the increasingly higher piles around me I started to wax mischievous. This is a state which rarely takes hold and makes me want to do things like lick all the glue on my boyfriend’s rolling papers then stuff them back in the box. I’m not particularly bothered that the guy smokes but it seems my mischievous side is. Or rearrange ornaments and books in people’s houses to unnerve them while they try to figure out what’s different. So I took the other bat and waited for her to drop more sand on the wall around me and promptly pushed it back off again. This continued long enough for me be severely amused and giggling hysterically.
We tried to decide on a name for the boat-like wall and finally settled on christening it ‘Badger’. Jade is perhaps better at boat-building than naming…