onlyemma's Diaryland Diary


I'm such a catch.

I just got back from Centre Parcs in Sherwood Forest, which I will get onto later.

Isn’t it annoying when someone talks to you about something incredibly pointless? Sometimes when I can’t be bothered to ask them to shut up I just try and speed up what they’re saying with impatient and frequent “umm”s. This tried and tested routine didn’t work tonight though, as Kate proceeded to take a million years in telling me about only having two pieces of chicken in her chicken salad today, which made her feel sad. I wasn’t quite sure why she saw the point in telling me that story, but obviously in some small way she found it relevant that I should know. But I will get my own back and tell her in great detail about the bland cheese and tomato sandwich I had earlier and give her a taste of her own medicine.

So anyway. Centre Parcs. I went to help with a church service we were holding in the hidden away church there and it was actually quite good. I regretted deciding that the “make sure you take a packed lunch” section of the leaflet, was merely a suggestion though. When 12 ‘o clock came around, I sat with a polystyrene cup of free coffee and was the only person not tucking into an over-stuffed cool bag.

I was a bit worried that everyone thought I was poor or trying to be anorexic, especially as Lauren kept drawing attention to my lack of food by offering me her sandwiches when everyone had gone quiet. I decided that I deserved to starve though, as being one of the oldest there and a fully-fledged adult, it was my responsibility to feed myself. My mum wasn’t going to make me sandwiches anymore and therefore it was my own fault that I was hungry as I couldn’t be bothered to make my own packed lunch.

I eventually gave into to a ham and tomato ketchup sandwich offered by Ben as it sounded interesting.

After lunch we went to the Subtropical Swimming Paradise; I was being a bit miserable because my bikini had gone baggy so I had to wear my mum’s one-piece swimming costume. I didn’t go in the pool for three hours because of that. I also didn’t want to wet my fringe- that thing is the Bain of my life. Unfortunately, sitting on the side safe in the knowledge that my fringe was still straight wasn’t quite as fun as I thought it would be, so to stave off boredom I walked around the shops with a 12 year old girl I didn’t really know (I didn’t just decide to choose a random 12 year old to walk around with though, she was with my group). She was extremely talkative and I think I must give off some thrifty vibes because she pointed out just about every over-priced thing in the shops and we both walked around shaking our heads and talking about people with more money than sense. It was kind of nice.

However, after about half an hour, said 12 year old girl did what most people I hang around with for more than 10 minutes do, which I should’ve seen coming. She started talking to me like I was thick. It started with me asking something about pretzels and her responding that she didn’t own the shop we were in ie. ‘I don’t know how much pretzels cost, you fool’ and I realised that as well showing signs of being frugal, I must also be subconsciously giving off faint indications of idiocy as well. Which is worrying.

I had to do something; so I did what I always do at times like this and I played the age card. It’s unfair but sometimes I think it’s all I’ve got. I inadvertently slipped into the conversation something about university like “oh, when I was at Uni I used to eat that all the time!” which brought around the question of how I got in at such a young age. I then casually replied that I’m 21 and not in fact an exceptionally bright pre-teen and as luck would have it, my plan worked! 12-year-old girl stopped treating me like a dimwit and was noticeably in awe of me. I was content.

But anyway, she went to play badminton not long after shopping so I finally decided to give up my too cool for school act and brave wearing my mum’s swimming costume in the pool. I actually had a really good time despite looking frighteningly drab and mumsy.

I braved the rapids, which, if you haven’t been to Centre Parcs, is a low-down slide-type thing that’s connected to the outside pool and is like being dragged down a raging river during a flood, but apparently more fun. The first section is where you’re meant to get your momentum going by diving on your belly, rounding a corner and sailing down jauntily into small pools which let you stop for a break all the way down. For some reason unbeknown to me, on my first go the current just wouldn’t take me, no matter how hard I tried. I belly-flopped down like a pro, got swept towards the corner and just as I was about to round it, my friends overtook me and carried on sailing down whilst I got sucked back to the beginning. Unable to climb out and push myself off and try again, I tried shuffling along on my backside to get to the corner only to be sucked back once more.

I tried three more times to get across the impossible threshold and I decided to get out and save my dignity (which was already low due to my cozzi), so floated to the start, only to find that I couldn’t get enough grip on the side to haul myself up and out. I bobbed about a bit weighing up my options and instead of getting a lifeguard to pull me out (my last resort), I opted for changing tact and tried a little dive towards the corner. I was within touching distance of it and was practically euphoric when I got swept back yet again, this time almost in tears. A few people had decided to have a go behind me though, so I waited for them to jump in, with a cunning plan in mind.

In my attempt to be anywhere but there, where the lifeguard had been watching my 5 minutes of struggling on an at-first-glance simple enough ride, I lunged after the new people in the hope of getting caught up in their wave and swept along with them. Oh if only it was that simple. I misjudged the wave and lunged too late, they sailed round the bend and the water came rushing back to the start again with me sliding along with it, but this time it only time hauled me half-way back and dumped me in middle of the tunnel with my arms outstretched in a diving position and no water around me. Great.

As I lay there, bum in the air, impersonating a beached whale I realised that this probably wasn’t my finest hour. But after about 5 minutes but which seemed like forty, around a hundred people effortlessly passed me by (including some under 5s) and I was too pissed off to care and ‘accidentally’ grabbed onto a fat man’s foot, This did the trick and took me round the bend. Rapture! And yes, I was that desperate I grabbed a fat man’s foot. He looked back at me weirdly as I clung on but I didn’t even care and pretended I didn’t notice him. I loudly went “Wooooooooooaaah!” and flung my arms around like I was thrilled to be alive, which sufficed as a distraction.

When I finally got to one of the first small pools where my friends had been waiting, they told me they had started to get worried and asked why it took me so long to get going. Who knows? I sure as hell didn’t know. I mustn’t be very streamlined.

I went on the rapids six times afterwards though, but only due to peer pressure from my friends. They had to form a chain and put me in the middle to help me along. It was a chain of pity and I knew it.

When we got out we went for a meal and I had a boring pasta thing. I complained when it was set down in front of me that it was too small a portion but I seem to be over-estimating the size of my appetite these days. Then I had a hot chocolate, we drove home and talked about how the beast from Beauty and the Beast was more attractive as a beast than as a human being.

Boooo…change him back. I seem to like a bit of rough.

10:47 p.m. - 2006-10-15


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