This monthly column slot of mine was originally scheduled to be a literary review of such Parisian salon caliber, my colleagues with high degrees would fawn and faint. And the Intrepid community, inspired by said missive, would discuss societal revolution and expound upon ideas for positive change instead of ranting about basketball and Anna Nicole Smith and wine-soaked cheese and "Battlestar Galactica."
But, I simply ran out of time. Look at that -– I even wrote the above in passive voice. No time to be active, I tell you!
I’m always wishing for time. Time to write. Time to finish my taxes before March 26th. (Next year, I’m going to whisper the magic word that will conjure the sweet sensation of immediate serenity: Extension.) Time to not have to multitask, such as typing while drinking my lunch and brushing my teeth.
While on the phone.
You scoff, but it happens.
Time to leisure without checking off every itty bitty item on my “list” first. In fact, a day or two without a “list” at all would be frakin’ wonderful.
However, if I could make a list of wishes, and not have to be realistic and all Aquarian about it, thus avoiding any mentions of world peace and equality and what I’d do with my lotto winnings (‘cause let’s face it -– I’d start The Foundation to Support Me, Not You, The One Who Didn’t Buy the Damn Ticket), here’s what I’d request, just for fun.
1) All hotel room doors, not just the ones in hotels I can’t afford, equipped with anti-slam devices.
2) Unlimited amounts of Cadbury Flake and Cadbury Roses chocolate.
3) Two cats and a dog that wouldn’t make my husband break out in a rash. And stop breathing. You think not, but it happens.
4) A pair of jeans that fit exactly the way I want.
5) A food replicator, 'cause it looked so cool on "Star Trek."
6) A chance to meet Jeff Dunham, on a stick, 'cause he seems pretty funny.
7) A trip on every roller coaster ride in the world without that woogy feeling afterwards.
8) The opportunity to slap whomever thought Suzanne Somers would make a good spokesperson or needed to have branded products.
9) To be a neon-painted go-go dancer in a cage at Rum Jungle in Vegas.
10) My utility room so clean and organized, microchips could be manufactured in it.
11) A pony. I want a pony.
12) Miniature clones of myself, little robots, really, to set loose in the office of every micromanaging boss-nitwit. These robots would have the ability to tinkle in the managers’ coffee, shut off the computer repeatedly throughout the day, and hum an earworm like “Tragedy” by The Bee Gees or “She Bangs!” by William Hung just loud enough and often enough to cause inadvertent head jerks.
13) To be the voice of an animated Pixar character.
14) A reprieve from grazing my hip on the blasted kitchen counter corner every other week.
15) A trip to London to go pubbing with author Louise Arnold, as well as northern light Sigbjørn Lund Olsen, both faraway Intrepid members I have yet to meet.
16) For the world to be Hilton-Lohan-Spears-free for one day. Think of the children!
17) I’ve often thought a massage every day would be nice.
18) We need to find Rusty a girl.
19) I’d like to go out drinking with The Fug Girls –- if they’d first go shopping with me so they’d have no reason to mock me later. You laugh, but it happens.
20) To be a filthy rich author so brilliant, popular, and powerful, Joyce Carol Oates calls me “ma’am.”
21) Free front row tickets to The Police, doesn’t matter where.
22) A hair color I can call my own.
23) The strength to admit I laugh a lot at the babies and pets on “America’s Funniest Videos,” which I sometimes watch in the middle of the night after I’ve drank too much Frostie's root beer and the caffeine makes me wiggy.
24) One of those giant chocolate-chip cookies, decorated with a frog or a flower or something else effy in frosting.
25) A personal genie, so that wishes could be more easily obtained without my having to list them.
I realize that, theoretically, I can obtain and accomplish most -- if not all -- on this list. Truly. I’m a cute little loco…motive. Well, except for the hotel room door thingie, because that would involve selling, and I don't want to sell anything bought, sold, or processed or process anything sold, bought, or processed as a career.
But I did steal the moments to write this column, and that’s a start.
I wonder how much time it will take for the rest of this list.
Tracey likes to shake things up and then take the lid off. She also likes to keep the peace, especially in a safe, fuzzy place. Writer, editor, producer, yogini, ('cause yoger or yogor simply doesn't work) by day, rabid WordsWithFriends and DrawSomething! player by night. You can follow her on Twitter: @traceylkelley or @tkyogaforyou
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IF YOU LIKED THIS COLUMN...
3.30.07 @ 9:14a
Da ha! Great list. I can help with the pony wish...we can go ride my horse next time you visit. I love your microbot idea...I wanna copy it for the EXACT same purpose. To accomplish wish #16 may take some assistance from Marky Mark's latest character, but it'd worth it just to watch him pull the trigger.
3.30.07 @ 1:41p
Tracey, I didn't know there are other people out there who want clones too. I'd like two, in spite of the danger of one being a hyper-brainiac and the other being ultra-dumb.
3.30.07 @ 2:26p
Oh BOY! Who sent me #24, a giant cookie!!!???!!!
3.30.07 @ 3:00p
I don't want clones - I don't need more of me. I need people better than me.
I'd send the more ambitious and talented me to work, send the funnier me to parties, send the more considerate me to find a gift for my wife, and keep the neater me at home to clean the bathroom. While I do what I do best: watch tv and eat snacks.
3.30.07 @ 4:28p
Hee! Fun list. Some observations...
1. Would the anti-slam device also drown out the sound of the screaming teenaged-girls responsible for slamming the doors as well? Because if so, I'll be your money guy. Okay, so it wouldn't be my money, but I know where you can get a loan.
3. I can vouch for this one. Having seen him slowly, ever so slowly, begin to die and then realize... "Whoops... I Forgot to tell him I have a cat!"
9. I know someone who's been talking about Vegas. Take her with you. Neon paint optional.
10. Have you seen the nigh-life-sized miniature pony toys that places like Wal-Mart were selling over Christmas? You could put one in your shed and pretend it's real without ever having to shovel real horseshit. Wait. You work in marketing. Never mind. : )
12. Thanks for that. Now it's in MY head! (stupid Bee Gees)
Love you, love your columns!
3.30.07 @ 4:51p
I'd like a remote zapper that instantly disables the neighbor's surround-sound, which he insists on using only in the middle of the night when I'm trying to sleep.
Oh, and I'd like a pony, too.
3.30.07 @ 5:02p
You're so, so close, Lisa. You actually meant to say, "I'd like a remote zapper that instantly disables the neighbors."
As would I...
3.30.07 @ 5:11p
Ponies are probably more trouble than they're worth to take care of, but I will join you in the cage at rumjungle at a moment's notice.
Someone got you a cookie! That's so fantastic! Maybe I should use my next column to write a list of stuff I want...
3.30.07 @ 11:18p
Maybe you could get one of these horses. From the photo it looks smaller than my dog.
3.31.07 @ 2:55a
Amen. The list is great. The idea of winning the lottery and being financially secure and able to do the things I really want is the ultimate fantasy.
4.2.07 @ 9:50a
If I ever allow myself to grow up I might get over mourning the death of my beautiful Welsh pony. Every little girl wants and SHOULD HAVE a pony. We should all write to our congresscritters about this.
4.2.07 @ 11:00a
#26 - I never want to see anything made or claiming to be made or promoted as made with chipotle ever again.
I used to have access to many ponies, but have not ridden in some time.
The cookie was good, but gave me horrible hearburn. Such is the thing with wishes.
4.2.07 @ 11:17a
Bad chipotle experience? I'm hesitant to ask, but still curious...
4.2.07 @ 11:23a
I'm just sick of seeing chipotle advertised on every single thing. "You'll love this sandwich, because it has CHIPOTLE sauce." "Try our new CHIPOTLE chips!" "Savor the zesty heat of our CHIPOTLE cereal!"
It's everywhere, and I really don't think it needs to be, or that anyone can really tell the difference between its zip and that of a hot banana pepper.
4.2.07 @ 12:42p
Some years ago a friend of mine was working in Australia where at the time every damn thing was served on focaccia. Her coworkers were wild for it. Finally, sitting at a sandwich shop's table with her people, she blurted, "It's just bread!"
Chipotle: "It's just peppers!"
4.3.07 @ 10:57a
Heh. Green tea in everything is also the rage. Right. Like I want to wash my hair in green tea.
Dave sez: "...but I know where you can get a loan." I'll bet you do, big boy.
4.3.07 @ 11:41a
Green tea: there's even a green tea Kit Kat, but I think you can only get it in Japan.
The smokiness of chipotle I like, and I think it's identifiable when used as an ingredient at home, but certainly there's no telling whether the chipotle barbecue sauce on a McDonald's Snack Wrap has any relationship at all to true chipotle.
I'll take a food replicator too, but I hate roller coasters, woogy feeling not being the issue. I just hate 'em.
4.3.07 @ 4:51p
"I think it's identifiable when used as an ingredient at home"
Exactly. For some reason, it just became outrageously trendy, but you can't tell me that many people even know what it is.
Next, it will be mole' sauce.
TRY OUR NEW BURGER KING MUSHROOM BURGER, WITH DORITOS AND MOLE' SAUCE, ONLY $2.99!
4.3.07 @ 10:51p
Next, it will be mole' sauce.
Meaning someone, somewhere, will decide that mole' sauce actually is made from moles.
You know, I'm a nutritionist by training (although I specialized in livestock). I just shake my head at these crazy nutritional fads, and keep on doing my best to eat a balanced diet and exercise regularly. I've got better things to do with my time than obsess over green tea vs white tea, vitamin pills, protein shakes, and all these other trendy things.
Eat sensibly people, and stop making up for scarfing down the super big-sized nuclear value meals at the local fast-food joints by swallowing six handfuls of pills every morning with your triple tall venti mocha with heavy cream. You'll feel better for it, and your bathroom scale and wallet will thank you.
4.3.07 @ 11:50p
Around here, the thing seems to be ciabatta bread. Except what just about everyone's hocking is NOT ciabatta. It might be LIKE ciabatta, with a similar taste and texture... but what makes a ciabatta authentic is its SHAPE. Ciabatta means slipper; it's shaped like a frickin' SHOE. So when you've got a burger on bread that's shaped like a frickin' hamburger bun, it is NOT A DAMNED CIABATTA.
But you walk into a sandwich shop in this town and they will club you over the head with their quote-unquote ciabatta, and then upcharge you for the privilege of eating it.
4.3.07 @ 11:57p
I had a sandwich at a state park snack bar the other day, and the bread was, I think, supposed to be ciabatta. It looked like it, but tasted, disturbingly, much more like an English muffin.