Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Random, Useless Discourse 24: So I want to be a Ninja.

Wednesday, November 07, 2007 - orig post date -

Random, Useless Discourse 24: So I want to be a Ninja.

I believe this ninja-thing of mine is for real. It isn't a sudden desire. Nor is it a phase or a passing-fancy, like the trombone (thought it would be easy… I mean, there were no valves or keys to press) or jai-alai watching (Chula!). Oh no, it's the real deal. Ok, Charlie. Cool hand, Luke. Okie from Muskogee. Etcetera etcetera.

When I was little, I wanted to be Wonder Woman. The Lynda Carter, 1975-1979, Wonder Woman that I watched in re-runs. I'd spin. And spin. And spin. Then I'd throw-up. And, finally, collapse. Limp. Exhausted. Crushed. And then, somehow, I'd get up and spin some more. This entertained my older brother (by 8yrs ) to no end. He would encourage me in that loving way older brothers do. He'd tell me to spin harder. Faster. Quicker. As the tears rolled down my slick, chubby apple cheeks, I'd slowly raise myself up to be greeted with his disappointed head-shake. "You didn't go fast enough. You didn't believe hard enough." So, yeah, I'd spin some more. And he'd sit back and grin. Satisfied. Entertained.

I also wanted to be Princess from G-Force (the censored American version of Gatchaman). Again, Brian was there. He'd play along. Talk to me on his watch. Help me jump off the sofa arms to launch and fly. Glide like the little bird Princess was. Unfortunately I was considerably less graceful and tended to land with resulting bruises, scrapes, and blood. Brian would advise me to 'shake it off.' ' It didn't really hurt.' I'd lie and agree. Nope. No pain there. The swelling would go down before Mom got home.

There was also the year I spent wishing upon the same star every night that I'd become Firestar (aka Angelica Jones) from Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends for my birthday. Needless to say the star let me down. It's ok. I learned a lot about constellations. And I kept this little one to myself. Pretty sure there would have been some first degree burns if I'd gotten Brian involved.

Oh, and let's not forget the time invested in mimicking Jaime Sommers. My running and jumping came with their own 'kkkkkkkkkk' s. I took up tennis. I pretty much knew that I wasn't going to be the Bionic Woman (I mean, I would have to be in a very bad accident or something and I was also pretty certain that OSI didn't have any operatives in BFE, TN to rescue me). But, hey, you never know. My tennis career came crashing down when I realized I had to run. A lot.

So yeah. I want be a ninja. I can do it. Right? Maybe?

Ok, admittedly, I have the physical prowess of a kitten. And I'm about as stealthy as I am subtle. And yes, I know I won't ever really really be a ninja. But the point is, even now, all growed-up like I am, I can still entertain myself with these brief flashes of fantasy. I still retain my imagination enough to conjure up those moments. Something to make me smile as I design an application or resolve a communication error or correct access settings. Or some other less crime-fighting, planet saving, sexxy bitch activity.

The real world kinda sucks sometimes. And when it does, I can toss a smoke bomb, slip around the corner, and be in my own kick-ass world. Seriously, what do you do? I can be a ninja when I want to be. And yeah, ok, it is pretty lame. But so is reality. I choose to be entertained.

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