I have figured it out. My life is not an adventure. It is not a romance. It is not science fiction, fantasy, horror, or suspence.
My life is a farce.
At least, that is the only way that I can explain the fact that I will be participating in a joust on unicycles.
If it really occurs, I expect someone to record it and place the video on YouTube. I say “if” because I am nowhere near ready for such an event. I cannot even finish a complete cycle (pedal goes down, up, and then down again to return to its original position) on my unicycle without grasping desperately for a rail, fence, wall or some other such form of support.
Speaking of which, I think that I need to buy a new wrist guard. Mine seems to have become damaged during my practice this weekend.
In other news, I am currently reading a book called The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón. I have barely begun, but I am already in love. Any author who begins his work in “the Cemetery of Forgotten Books” knows how to hook this bibliophile. I suspect that I shall pick up his next novel, The Angel’s Game as well. And that I shall pick up the untranslated versions so that I can savor the rich language that he uses. The English translation is a smooth butterscotch treat that I roll around my tongue. I can only imagine what words and phrases the author himself uses in his native Spanish.