Thursday, June 12, 2008

What I should be when I grow up, chapter 1

The other day I came home from work to find a great, big box from one of my best buddies who doesn’t live in Hippyville. (she was my excellent boss when I lived in the big city, and she’s OBNOXIOUSLY smart, especially since I’m older than she is so in THEORY I should be smarter about something, SOMETHING, but no, she knows everything. And also she is always so danged on top of everything and prepared and organized and at a certain point I realized that I either had to choose to hate her INTENSELY with the fire that only a combination of envy and intimidation can provide, or to find her amazing and cool and follow in her footsteps whenever possible. I chose option B, but because of option A I’m going to call her Goofy (and also because she has mad love for all things Disney. But mostly its just the 'being perfect' thing. Revenge at last!)

I was not expecting a box, but the Goofster has been known to spontaneously send little awesome packages, so ‘YAY!’ When I opened it I found a great and excellent homage to French Canadian, spandex-clad, bendy-twisty fabulousness! (In other words: Cirque du Soleil stuff! Woo Hoo!) We're talking CDs and books and cool, cool stuff. And did I mention it was spontaneous?

Goofy and I discovered the magic and majesty of Cirque many years ago w/ Saltimbanco, and we’ve both been ape for them ever since. Like SUPER ape! We go see the shows, but we also wear the clothes and listen to the soundtracks and walk the walk and talk the talk and Cirque, Baby!!

(note: ok, we don’t really walk the walk, because I’m pretty sure that walking the Cirque walk would involve putting one’s legs behind one’s neck, and possibly one’s head up one’s rear-area. Which we just aren’t doing. And we also don’t actually talk the talk, because I believe the Cirque talk would be French. And I’m more likely to be able to put my head up my rear-area than be able to speak French.)

Anyway, I don’t know what this box means. I don’t know if she’s giving me all of her awesome Cirque bounty, mayhaps because she’s decided that she’s received all the magic that she can from our French-Canadian heroes of contortion and flying? Or did she hit the Ebay motherload on Cirque stuff, thereby totally completing the entire Cirque collection, and these are the things she already had? Or did she decide that she wouldn’t be able to be my friend anymore if I didn’t have just a bit more Cirque coolness? Or possibly this is pre-emptive willing, due to a premonition that her time is nigh? Picture me on my living room floor, surrounded by this jackpot of Cirque fabulousness, rolling around on soundtracks and programs but afraid to like it too much just in case it’s actually a portent of badness!

And then I thought this: maybe Goofy has sent this as a form of career guidance! Maybe she believes that she has found the right career path for me! And it involves juggling fire! Hanging myself from my earlobes! Hot Human Pretzel Action! And EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!

(the sane and rational among you have probably already started crafting your helpful emails suggesting that maybe I could just call or email Goofy and ask her the story behind the fabulous box of Cirque goodness. Emails I will ignore because sanity? Rational thinking? HAH!! Since when do I traffic in such goods?!?! DOUBLE-HAH!!) Now pardon me while I figure out how one limbers up one’s earlobes…

1 comment:

Dave Id said...

We do have clowns at the circus also ;)