There are certain people with whom you can act as though you’re 12 again and it doesn’t matter, because they won’t judge you, or mock you, or be negative in anyway. They’ll join in..
The red-headed one (Yep, that’s her on the right) came to stay last weekend, and as is usual for the wonderful city of Brighton, it rained. No, correction, it poured. So we stomped around the beach with umbrellas, and trudged the laines running from sweet shop to sweet shop, and SPENT TWO WHOLE HOURS IN THE AQUARIUM. Which was probably the best bit.
I’m sorry. I’ll explain. I may have a little bit of an obsession with sharks. Not sure when exactly it began, just that it’s been here for a fair while. I can’t believe I’ve managed to avoid the aquarium for the entire past year. In fact the thought sickens me..
Anyway. There’s a shark tunnel. Needless to say, I was a goner. Probably would’ve sat there for a good couple of hours longer if we didn’t get ever so marginally peckish. There is something so graceful about sharks. Plus they just have this beautiful sense of freedom. I guess I’m sort of jealous of them in a way. They just appear so at ease, and relaxed, with the ability to swim the ocean (okay, not when they’re in captivity, but y’know what I mean), without a care in the world. I could easily spend hours in an aquarium. They’re one of those random places I can really relax, and for a seriously anxious person that’s pretty unusual. It’s the sharks. They just have that effect on me..
So yes, I’d like a shark please. I’ll call him Oscar and he can live in my fridge. It’s a good fridge, promise.