meanderings of a wayfaring stranger

Today’s story is to be the first entry of my blog, and so I feel a certain pressure to make it a good one. So as not to disappoint, some of the events of my day have been exaggerated, others have been made up completely.
Over the past few months I have been leading a very dull and eventless life, but still manage to convince people otherwise by employing some very cunning techniques. When asked what I did last night I might tell him or her that I went to the cinema. What I mean by that, is that I turned the volume up on my National Geographic shark DVD that I got free with the paper a few weeks ago.
Last night was no different, except that this time it was a DVD about penguins. This one seems to have been made for an audience much harder of heart than I; after having spent three quarters of an hour investing all my love and emotion in a tiny new born penguin that the camera crew were following, I had my heart completely broken by the callous documentation of this poor chic’s gruelling demise, delivered so rigorously by an angry seal.
So tonight I think it’s back to sharks. They’re a much safer bet. You don’t see sharks being savaged by a seal, and there may be some poetic justice to be had in watching my favourite bit, where the great white jumps out of the water and swallows a seal whole. By filling in the gaps, it can be assumed that this is the same seal who, minutes earlier, had catapulted itself onto the ice and killed my poor penguin chic. Seeing it flailing around in the jaws of a great white will give me the sense of justification that I feel my penguin chic deserves.
The events of my day today have been drawn along a similar theme. Needless to say, in this story I portray the role of the penguin chic, relying solely on the great white to bring justice to those who have done me wrong.
The other day while I was walking, a kid threw an egg at me. A while afterwards I came to the conclusion that he probably didn’t know that I was on my way to the Co-Op to buy some eggs, and I re-assessed what he had done as an act of aggression. He wasn’t trying to save me time and money after all, he was just throwing an egg at me. Events of this nature always take a while to sink in with me, and by the time my mind had finished processing I was at home cooking my eggs. Had I been given the opportunity to retaliate, I’m not sure what I would have done anyway. What do you say to someone who’s just thrown an egg at you?
This morning I had gone to college to submit myself to four hours of daydreaming and on the train back home I bumped into an old lady that I have made friends with from my neighbourhood. She offered me a lift home, and I accepted. We chatted for most of the way home, it was only a two minute drive but Vanessa made it in ten; coming to a complete stop at every turn, and just getting up to about five miles an hour before slowing down again for the next turn. Just as we were driving up the hill to my street, the kid who’d thrown the egg walked slowly out into the road just ahead of the car, looking straight at us, as if daring us to run him over. Had I been driving the car, I would have panicked and lost control, but Vanessa knew just what to do. She tightened her grip on the wheel and sunk her shoulders into the seat as her small beige shoe pressed down on the accelerator.
As we veered towards the pavement along which this kid was now running for his life, I was reminded of my favourite bit in the sharks DVD, where the shark leaps out of waters which had previously seemed so calm, and shows the horrible seal for what he really is – dinner.