27 Mar 2007
I woke up an hour early today (bloody daylight savings), so instead of doing anything productive and meaningful, I thought I'd write you an early morning blog. Today's blog is brought to you by the letters R.U.B.B.I.S. and H.
I thought we'd have a chat (feel free to talk back to the computer...but maybe not if you're at work right now) about something that I've touched on before, but never really overted. Today, we're talking about "life when you're sitting down in an upright world", or, in the style of a current affair..."When good legs go bad! Is society to blame?".
These stories, with many digressions, are based on my day at the Wicked Festival on sunday.
How cool am I?
The WICKED festival. Hip hop? Doof doof cars?
No, Wicked was about chocolate, coffee and wine. Personally, I think they should have called the Migraine Festival. But, here we go then:
I caught the train up, and I managed to get a space (nb. not a seat, although I pay the same price, but a "parking space". I'M NOT A CAR!!!). Speaking of people pretending wheelchairs are cars, can't tell you how many times I get to hear, "don't get a speeding ticket" (Ironically, last week I did get a speeding ticket...for my car!). I have two friends who are married to each other and are both in wheelchairs. When they're doing the groceries, they want to wear t-shirts saying, "no, we're not having a race". Can you imagine how much "witty" people would shit you if you had to hear that joke every time you went shopping?
But, back to the train. One time, I got to sit in the cargo hold, with just a bike for company. Another time, I was able to sit in the luggage space....caged off from the rest of the train (seriously, I was in a cage). But sunday, I sat beside the buffet car. All good, except it was a long haul train, so the buffet was open. For the whole trip, I was perpetually in the food line. Dodged many a cafe vline, let me tell you.
Then, I got to the station. Thought I'd powder my nose before hopping in Cate's car (she usually appears to appreciate that order of tasks), so I popped off to the disabled toilet. Apparently, there is some concern about people shooting up or sleeping in these toilets, so they don't lock. Mmmm....nice
Who needs Myspace? I've found a new way to make friends......met some lovely new people.....as they walked in on me when I was having a wee.
Incidentally, when I was in line for a toilet at a servo somewhere between Perth and Margaret River, a small child and her mother were waiting beside me. The little girl (maybe 3), lent over to me and said "what's that?" "My wheelchair", I replied. "Can I have a go?" she asked. Felt so mean saying no, but I did add "Be careful what you wish for".
So, after all that excitement (surprised I didn't have one of them "disability attacks"), we popped off to the festival.
Crowds! It was one of those events that I don't actually see anything cos I'm too busy finding my way through all the people. But, that's ok, cos Cate is tall, so she narrated for me. Tell you what, it's very handy to have your own personal narrator...just like living in the Biggest Loser house.
We were wandering through the crowd, and I was listening to the lovely sights, when this guy squeezed his way in front of me, then abruptly stopped. I was so close to him that my footplate was touching the back of his legs. Then, guess what he did???!?!?
He could have moved forward.
He could have turned to apologise.
He could have even stepped sideways.
No. With my face precariously close to his bottom, HE PICKED OUT A WEDGY. If I was Scarlet O'Hara, I would have fainted.
Interestingly, I've never smoked, and I wonder if that is purely for safety reasons. Think about it. I'm in a crowded bar, smoking away. Someone farts, and there goes my eyebrows!
Ooh crap, is that the time. I better go to work. Don't want to miss the train!