Lost Ticker Tape

Keeping in the spirit of this blog I want to talk about the fact that sometimes the simplest of pleasures are the best. The most recent example of this was kite flying and a picnic on the beach. It was a bright, warm day in Scotland (rare, I know) so we piled into the Softmint*, bought a picnic and off we went to the seaside with The Shins playing on the stereo and the car windows open. The long-awaited flight of a beautiful multi-coloured striped kite I bought my friend for Christmas was perfect. The light wind, the warm sun, a picnic with your friends and paddling in the sea. The sheer simplicity and beauty of the kite in the air rendered a few 20 and 30 some-things speechless for a short while. I suspect it was the collective reminder of how simple life was when all you had to think about was flying your kite for the first time. * The Softmint is our bright, mint-green coloured car. You can't lose her even in the dark.

The last post neatly brings me to my next point, have you ever noticed the people who don't seem to glisten with sweat from an evening of dancing? There are people wearing woolly jumpers in overcrowded clubs who don't have a single hair out of place and are inexplicably not waving their hands about their person in a vain attempt to cool down. There are the boys who, in a packed venue, keep their jumpers and parkas on with no outward sign of being uncomfortable despite the temperature being about 30 degrees. And then there are always girls who look as pristine as they did 4 hours ago, no make-up smudges and perfect hair and no hint of them having exerted themselves on the dance-floor. I had a deep-set distrust of these people until last night. It was at the point where I had to tie my hair up because it was actually sticking to me (mmm, lovely) that I noticed the types of people I mentioned above were on the dance floor but not actually dancing. Well, they were dancing but on