The Amazing Chicken Boy!!
The weird one in the corner is me.
Showing posts with label hawaii. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hawaii. Show all posts
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Falling Off Stage: Part 1
So, I have the unfortunate habit of falling off of or onto every stage I have ever performed on. This is not, as you might think, because I lack grace or co-ordination. No, good people. It is because I have been CURSED! It is a nefarious curse, a diabolical, horrifying, EVIL curse! A curse of such epic proportions that, well, it makes me fall. On stage. A lot. Ahem.
Anyway.
The first tragic incident occurred when I was merely nine years old. I was an innocent child then, blissfully unaware of the tragic turn my life was about to take...
It all began with a PVC Pipe set. Now, if you’ve never seen a set made out of PVC Pipe you might not understand the following events, so let me quickly describe it for you. First off,PVC pipe is long thin pipe that can be joined at angles and is typically used for plumbing.
We used our Pipe to build a house with three walls and no roof. We then covered the “walls” with painted bed sheets and voila! House! It was obviously a very big budget, bells and whistles musical. The play we were doing was Pippi Longstocking and one of the gags was that Pippi always climbed onto the roof of her house. Obviously our house had no roof, but we improvised by having me climb a ladder and stick my head up over the top of the pipe house. You can probably tell where this is going, can’t you?
Well, one fateful night (I’ve always wanted to start a story with “one fateful night.” Doesn’t it just sound ominous and amazing? Like something dark and or sticky is about to burst out of the woods behind you, or some really famous baby is being born. Like J Lo) we had been performing the show as usual, when it was time for me to climb the ladder. (the ladder OF DOOM! MUAHAHAHAAAAAAAaaaaaa)
Now, I had climbed this ladder many times before, but this time...... My shoe was untied. So, as I made to descend the ladder:
Well, okay, maybe not that bad, but I did trip and fall off the ladder, taking the PVC house down with me in a tremendous crashing pile.
We closed the curtains, fixed the set, and tried to go on with the play. Unfortunately, the next line was “Pippi, I’ll never get used to you jumping all over your house like that...”
We had to close the curtain three more times before Anakin could say it with a straight face.
NEXT TIME ON “FALLING OFF STAGE”:
Sasha falls into an Orchestra Pit dressed like a princess.
Anyway.
The first tragic incident occurred when I was merely nine years old. I was an innocent child then, blissfully unaware of the tragic turn my life was about to take...
It all began with a PVC Pipe set. Now, if you’ve never seen a set made out of PVC Pipe you might not understand the following events, so let me quickly describe it for you. First off,PVC pipe is long thin pipe that can be joined at angles and is typically used for plumbing.
We used our Pipe to build a house with three walls and no roof. We then covered the “walls” with painted bed sheets and voila! House! It was obviously a very big budget, bells and whistles musical. The play we were doing was Pippi Longstocking and one of the gags was that Pippi always climbed onto the roof of her house. Obviously our house had no roof, but we improvised by having me climb a ladder and stick my head up over the top of the pipe house. You can probably tell where this is going, can’t you?
Well, one fateful night (I’ve always wanted to start a story with “one fateful night.” Doesn’t it just sound ominous and amazing? Like something dark and or sticky is about to burst out of the woods behind you, or some really famous baby is being born. Like J Lo) we had been performing the show as usual, when it was time for me to climb the ladder. (the ladder OF DOOM! MUAHAHAHAAAAAAAaaaaaa)
Now, I had climbed this ladder many times before, but this time...... My shoe was untied. So, as I made to descend the ladder:
Well, okay, maybe not that bad, but I did trip and fall off the ladder, taking the PVC house down with me in a tremendous crashing pile.
We closed the curtains, fixed the set, and tried to go on with the play. Unfortunately, the next line was “Pippi, I’ll never get used to you jumping all over your house like that...”
We had to close the curtain three more times before Anakin could say it with a straight face.
NEXT TIME ON “FALLING OFF STAGE”:
Sasha falls into an Orchestra Pit dressed like a princess.
Monday, November 14, 2011
First Kiss
I was sixteen years old when I got my first kiss.
Now, this wasn’t REALLY my first kiss, but I’m not counting that time with Reuban back in first grade or that time I had to make out with someone on stage (That’s a whole different story). Those are notreal kisses, and anyone who says they are is WRONG! Ahem.
Anyway, my first kiss.
I’d been with my first *insert dewey eyes and sappy music here* boyfriend for
about three weeks and I could not wait to get that kiss. I was sixteen for heaven’s
sake! My clock was ticking! But he was a pure gentleman and he insisted that my first kiss needed to be wildly romantic.
Bless.
Anyway, one beautiful sunny day (and yes, I know when people think of Hawaii they think of endless beautiful sunny days, but really the chances of getting a day when it is not pouring rain are slim, so this was quite a stroke of luck) my boyfriend took me out to a place I like to call Five Waterfalls. I have no idea what it’s really called. In fact, I seem to remember passing a “No Trespassing” sign on our way up, and there was defiantly some sort of water treatment facility on the property, so it’s very likely that just being there was pretty illegal. Anyway,
we went to Five Waterfalls. I call it that because there were five waterfalls there.
This isn't it, this is Rainbow Falls, but you get the idea. Just pretend there are five waterfalls instead of one.
Now five waterfalls was a beautiful, idyllic sort of place. Picture a huge lake/river, in Hawaii, surrounded by Five Waterfalls. Picture pure blue sky without a hint of cloud, tropical birds flying around singing, and sixteen year old me being wined and dined (metaphorically of course, I was far too much of a goody two shoes to actually drink wine) by her handsome twenty-one year old boyfriend. You’re jealous now, aren’t you? Thought so.
So there we were, eating a picnic lunch at probably one of the most beautiful and secluded places on the entire Big Island of Hawaii, when my boyfriend asked me if I wanted to swim. He took me down to the lake and we stood in the middle, surrounded by five waterfalls and singing birds and sun and sky and perfect, and he kissed me.
It was like a scene out of some Disney movie or cheesy romance novel.
It was every sixteen year old girls dream.
It was DISGUSTING!
I kid you not. It was probably the grossest thing that had ever happened to my face, and I had a horse, two dogs AND a little brother at the time! It was wet and slimy and tasted kind of like pepper and went on and on and on and on and oooooooooooooooonnnnnnn... I remember standing there thinking:
Eeew! Tongue! Pepper! EEEWWW! ... Okay. Still
kissing. Still. Kissing. Still... Kissing... MY GOD WHEN IS HE GOING TO BE DONE KISSING ME!
I couldn’t pull away first, obviously, because then I would ruin my perfect, fairy tale first kiss! So I waited. When he finally surfaced for air I tried to muster up a look that was slightly less damming than “mild disgust.” I needn’t have worried, he didn’t even just open his eyes, just sighed dreamily and smiled.
“That was amazing.” He mumbled, clearly still in a bliss coma from that apparently earth shattering kiss. I obviously didn’t know my own power.
“....Yeah, heh...Amazing” *Searches for nearest safe topic/escape route*
And that was my very first ever real not on stage or with an eight year old kiss. I thought it would get better, that maybe I would get used to it, because other people liked kissing, right?
Alas, no.
I stayed with this sweet, caring boy for nearly two years, but I never liked kissing him. I think that should probably have been a sign of the approaching Relationship Apocalypse, but no. I didn’t get that message until the One Ring he gave me got stuck on my finger and had to be cut off by a jewellery saw.
Again, not the real thing. This one probably would have fit me.
But that, as they say, is a different story.
Now, this wasn’t REALLY my first kiss, but I’m not counting that time with Reuban back in first grade or that time I had to make out with someone on stage (That’s a whole different story). Those are notreal kisses, and anyone who says they are is WRONG! Ahem.
Anyway, my first kiss.
I’d been with my first *insert dewey eyes and sappy music here* boyfriend for
about three weeks and I could not wait to get that kiss. I was sixteen for heaven’s
sake! My clock was ticking! But he was a pure gentleman and he insisted that my first kiss needed to be wildly romantic.
Bless.
Anyway, one beautiful sunny day (and yes, I know when people think of Hawaii they think of endless beautiful sunny days, but really the chances of getting a day when it is not pouring rain are slim, so this was quite a stroke of luck) my boyfriend took me out to a place I like to call Five Waterfalls. I have no idea what it’s really called. In fact, I seem to remember passing a “No Trespassing” sign on our way up, and there was defiantly some sort of water treatment facility on the property, so it’s very likely that just being there was pretty illegal. Anyway,
we went to Five Waterfalls. I call it that because there were five waterfalls there.
This isn't it, this is Rainbow Falls, but you get the idea. Just pretend there are five waterfalls instead of one.
Now five waterfalls was a beautiful, idyllic sort of place. Picture a huge lake/river, in Hawaii, surrounded by Five Waterfalls. Picture pure blue sky without a hint of cloud, tropical birds flying around singing, and sixteen year old me being wined and dined (metaphorically of course, I was far too much of a goody two shoes to actually drink wine) by her handsome twenty-one year old boyfriend. You’re jealous now, aren’t you? Thought so.
So there we were, eating a picnic lunch at probably one of the most beautiful and secluded places on the entire Big Island of Hawaii, when my boyfriend asked me if I wanted to swim. He took me down to the lake and we stood in the middle, surrounded by five waterfalls and singing birds and sun and sky and perfect, and he kissed me.
It was like a scene out of some Disney movie or cheesy romance novel.
It was every sixteen year old girls dream.
It was DISGUSTING!
I kid you not. It was probably the grossest thing that had ever happened to my face, and I had a horse, two dogs AND a little brother at the time! It was wet and slimy and tasted kind of like pepper and went on and on and on and on and oooooooooooooooonnnnnnn... I remember standing there thinking:
Eeew! Tongue! Pepper! EEEWWW! ... Okay. Still
kissing. Still. Kissing. Still... Kissing... MY GOD WHEN IS HE GOING TO BE DONE KISSING ME!
I couldn’t pull away first, obviously, because then I would ruin my perfect, fairy tale first kiss! So I waited. When he finally surfaced for air I tried to muster up a look that was slightly less damming than “mild disgust.” I needn’t have worried, he didn’t even just open his eyes, just sighed dreamily and smiled.
“That was amazing.” He mumbled, clearly still in a bliss coma from that apparently earth shattering kiss. I obviously didn’t know my own power.
“....Yeah, heh...Amazing” *Searches for nearest safe topic/escape route*
And that was my very first ever real not on stage or with an eight year old kiss. I thought it would get better, that maybe I would get used to it, because other people liked kissing, right?
Alas, no.
I stayed with this sweet, caring boy for nearly two years, but I never liked kissing him. I think that should probably have been a sign of the approaching Relationship Apocalypse, but no. I didn’t get that message until the One Ring he gave me got stuck on my finger and had to be cut off by a jewellery saw.
Again, not the real thing. This one probably would have fit me.
But that, as they say, is a different story.
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