Saturday, March 31, 2007

In Which I Do Not Fly a Kite on the Beach

Ah, I should be ashamed of myself. What kind of person pays a $65 buy-in for the craziest beach party of the year, and after one night says, "You know what? I'm tired of partying. Let's go home, read a book, and maybe write a blog entry."

I'll never be able to pass myself off as a normal person now.

It's not that I have no life, it's just that I can only do the social thing so long before I want to quit wasting time, and go do something geeky and constructive with my time. Alcohol doesn't really do it for me. I like the people at the beach party. I had the time of my life. But this morning I realized I'm just not interested in getting intoxicated enough to enjoy another night with 75 loud, intoxicated college students.

Ok, maybe it is that I have no social life.

I don't worry about it. I may be crazy but it's a happy kind of crazy. I enjoy my geeky life. I just wish my fiancee could have been here with me this weekend.

My original plans for the beach party were to get an awesome parafoil kite, and spend the weekend flying the kite on the beach. Then all the girls would say, "Wow, that's a cool kite, can I fly it?" And I'd have to say, "Piss off. Get your own kite."

(Just a joke - I'm really not that mean.)

So I bought the kite. Unfortunately some bad thunderstorms are keeping everyone inside this weekend - no kite flying, or beachly activities of any kind. I can't remember whether the Mythbusters episode confirmed or busted the myth that you can get killed by lightning striking a kite, but I'd hate to find out the hard way.

(Some people have this strange idea that you should go into the water, or something, when you go to the beach. I hear it's called "swimming". I've never tried it myself - it sounds terribly unpleasant.)

The book I'm curling up with on this rainy day is titled Born on a Blue Day. It is the autobiography of Daniel Tammet, who is a famous memory savant who has Asperger's syndrome. The book makes an outstanding contribution to the body of works that includes Temple Grandin's autobiography, Thinking in Pictures, and the novel by Mark Haddon, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time. I'll post a review of Born on a Blue Day sometime this week.
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