Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Its all fine and good...

Until you get hit with a coconut.

Let me explain.

Today I went on an adventure to buy Jen Lancasters new book "If You Were Here", and like many things on a small, out of the way Caribbean island, no such book has been ordered by either of the book stores. 


I have an iPad I love it very dearly but its just not the same as a real book. I love the smell of the paper, the binding, how after time the book seems to weather and age right along with you. A book wont run out of battery, or literally scream if you drop it in the sand. 


Yet with no options other than to wait or download the book, I opted for the route less full of waiting and downloaded it. Its not like a Kindle and Apple really screwed the pooch not finding a way to incorporate e-ink into their devices but it gets the job done. In the house. Not in direct beach sun light.


But we'll get to that part. Eventually I tire of Gossip Girl (I'm almost done with season 2- I came late to the party I know, and I'm just worn out on Dan and Serena at this point. You'll have beautiful babies. Just work it out. And come on Serena? "Oh I'm too different and special for Yale"? Money might buy you looks but it won't fix stupid [catch the Ron White reference?]) and decide it time to stop turning my brain to mush.


In island fashion (because thats real, you know), I throw my towel down under a coconut palm and dive into what is shaping up to be another work of art by the lovely Miss Lancaster. However, its spring, and the coconut are a-bloomin. I keep hearing things go 'thud' on the sand around me, and from time to time something that feels roughly the weight of a big bumble bee drops on a leg, arm, my head, and eventually into my drink. Thats when I look up.






Its now I'd like to say for dramatic effect that I got a coconut right to the face (doesn't that just sound raunchy) but instead I watched this tumble to the ground about 5 inches from me.



That there would be a baby coconut. Not enough to kill but surely enough to take me out of the running for any pageant any time soon. It was at this point I realized both my (smokin hot) face and over priced electronic toy were at risk of significant damage and decided it best to prepare for yoga. Of the bikrum variety? I'm not positive, all I know is that I will sweat and likely offend those around me. I don't smell bad but my deodorant is another story. 

No comments:

Post a Comment