This magnet is on our refrigerator, a gift from a friend. For those of you who are not running geeks it may seem a bit random, for those of you who have seen Kenyans run, and their speed, elegance, and grace has brought a tear to your eye even before you contemplate the utter penguininity of your own existence, you know. Its about dreaming of being something that your skills, knowledge, circumstances, and your body will ever let you be.I was driving home today, slurping the last inch of my cherry Icee and listening to my iPod. I'm sure that someday I'll find out that you aren't supposed to do THAT while you are driving in the State of New York, but given the number of college age girls driving around with a phone clapped to their ear who obviously never got a $50 ticket for it like I did, pbppphhhlt on the law. Mad apologies to the village of Dryden, NY, which was treated to the 'white lady in a minivan with headphones on and the windows down' version of this: (Its unedited....just so ya know)
Anyway, the music got me thinking about how I'd finish "In my dreams I am....". I've had a lot of fantasies. Most of them revolve around a degree of agility and grace I do not possess. One stands out. The quality isn't great but you get the idea.
Yep. I didn't just want to be on TV. I didn't just want to look as good as they do in those shorts.
In my dreams, I am a Fly Girl.
How about you?
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7 comments:
The sad thing is: in my dreams, I'm Kenyan...or Ethiopian...when it comes to my active pursuits. I get all lathered when I watch marathons, and I have to holler a bit about what beautiful runners those lead-pack Kenyans are.
As far as writing, I'd finish the sentence with wanting to be Ayun Halliday...sometimes Anne Lamott.
Oh, and when you wrote about NY girls having phones clapped to their heads, I wished you'd written about them all having the clap.
I am Harper Lee. I wrote on amazing book, made some money and did well.
Did she do well?
Tell me she didn't die old and alone somewhere with no money.
Craaaap. I'm going to go google it.
Man, to look like a Fly girl. In my dreams, I'm someone who can sleep longer and whenever I want to. Isn't it crazy how our dreams change?
In my dreams . . . I am a Zumba instructor.
In my dreams, I am my 21-year-old self who tried on a skin tight rockin-hot outfit in a dressing room and stepped outside to get a full-length view, then saw the look on random guy's face that said "I would really like some of that."
I once told a lady who had stepped out of a dressing room to assess a dress that she looked beautiful in it. (She really did. It was royal blue and fit her just right.) She was shopping by herself. I didn't mean to make her cry though. Guess she hasn't heard that often enough.
Ah, Kim, you made her day and I bet she's never forgotten that compliment.
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