Thursday, 21 June 2012

I used to want to be a bunch of different things.

When I was little (and my craziness was kind of cute), I was convinced that I was going to be an amazing combination of all my favourite things.
In all honesty? I still do.

But truthfully, I don't think that's going to happen. For one, I'm not really a suitable age to be an Olympic gymnast. Rhythmic or not. I'm 26 for fuck's sake, and most of them are, like, 13 and super skinny and have extra elbows and knees and necks.
Also, the fact that I trip over my own feet when I'm sitting down, is kind of a hindrance. Most gymnasts (even the rhythmic ones who bounce balls and twizzle ribbons and throw clubs at people) are very very coordinated and not at all clumsy. Apart from when it comes to their Russian coach's expectations. Then they're all left-feet and nothing is ever good enough. They should have discovered me when I was 11. Then I'd have won all the medals. Ever.

If I'd had my way when I was little, not only would I have been a world-class gymnast, but I would have lived in the Amazonian rain forest. I would obviously live in a hollowed out tree, and make a living making tortilla chips and cougar jerky. And I'd have had a pet panther named 'Blacky'. If I had had this dream when I was the age I am now, the panther would be called 'Gerald' or possibly 'Frank'. Only because I no longer name things after the thing that stands out most about them.
N.B. I had stick insects called 'Sticky' and 'Twiggy'. I also had a hamster called 'Squeaky'.I'm that kind of person. PS- I also had a cat whom I did not name, called 'Kitty'. I got this naming gig all wrapped-up for life.

Blacky and I would have many wonderful adventures. Mainly tending our maize crops for our booming tortilla business, and shooing away the monkeys that would doubtlessly want a part of our fortune. They should have learned to farm and make tortillas for themselves. At least our tortilla business doesn't have any competition. And as we all know, competition from monkeys is stiff.

When the tortilla business was no longer so lucrative much fun and I had to turn Blacky into a blanket because the rainy season had set in set Blacky free (he totally didn't want to leave, because I make the best monkey jerky (he wasn't a fan of the cougar jerky, I don't blame him; it kind of sucked.) and I made sure his coat was in great shape, like, all the time), I had to turn to making my way home to my mother. I hadn't told her I was going to live in the Amazon. But really? If she had been that bothered she would have come to look for me. I obviously had left a paper trail as long as my hair (I had totally long hair in my imagination because my mother would always cut it really short and I'd confuse myself and think I was looking at a boy in the mirror.) and it led straight to the Amazon.

When I got home, I was immediately told that I had a job as a vet. I gave that all up, though, because I didn't like rummaging around in dying animals organs looking for a lost set of car keys. I then wrote a book about said dilemmas and it made me my first gazillion simolians.

After a brief stint on Broadway in Cats I was asked to be the singing voice for every Disney lady character ever. True story. In my imagination.

Oh yeah, and I got myself a zoo and all the animals were free to roam freely, and I might as well have just bought part of the Serengeti for all it was worth, because the lions ate everything. Apart from the giraffes. Turns out, they're the real predators.

So maybe these things haven't happened. Yet.
But I'm looking for happiness and to be content with who I am, so as long as I can run away to my imagination, where I'm not fucked-up and jobless, I'm fine.


  1. I am still having trouble focusing on one thing. :) A friend's friend writes this blog

    - you should read the about page and maybe trackback to a post or two on here.