Circus or Bust
There are a few things I knew for sure when I was 12:
Then I was going to be a comedian. I'd take joke books out of the library and try to memorize them. Instead, I ended up forcing my mom and brother to sit on the couch while I read the joke book to them, waiting for laughs. Not so funny.
I also wanted to be a gymnast but had never had any gymnastics training other than the cartwheels and round-offs I did on my front lawn. So I settled for the next best thing, trapeze artist.
I decided to start training right way, and the only way I knew how: on the shower curtain rod. We had a big old fashion bathtub with a metal curtain rod that went all the way around and attached to the ceiling. I told my mom I was going to take a shower (I even ran the water). I stood on the edge of the tub and grasped the rod tightly. I got on my tiptoes and flung forward with all my might.
I don't remember landing (maybe I briefly blacked out), but I do remember the sound of the curtain rod ripping out of the ceiling and crashing down around me. My mom came running up the stairs and I jumped back into the tub. She burst in and asked what happened. I told her, in my sincerest voice, that I didn't know. The curtain rod just...fell.
She got on the phone to the landlord (yes, this was a rental) who lived next door. I quickly got dressed and he came over. My mom told him what I'd told her, that it just fell. He took one look at it and said, "It looks like someone was swinging from it." I gasped and sputtered, "Psshh, what? Swinging? Why would someone swing from a curtain rod? Duh." and quickly went into my room to hide out until it was fixed.
Needless to say this ended my short lived career as a trapeze artist.
- If someone didn't invent something to control my curly hair in the near future, I'd have to shave my head.
- My album collection of puffy stickers were NOT lame (no matter what my brother said).
- Lastly, and most importantly, I was going to be a trapeze artist in the circus.
Then I was going to be a comedian. I'd take joke books out of the library and try to memorize them. Instead, I ended up forcing my mom and brother to sit on the couch while I read the joke book to them, waiting for laughs. Not so funny.
I also wanted to be a gymnast but had never had any gymnastics training other than the cartwheels and round-offs I did on my front lawn. So I settled for the next best thing, trapeze artist.
I decided to start training right way, and the only way I knew how: on the shower curtain rod. We had a big old fashion bathtub with a metal curtain rod that went all the way around and attached to the ceiling. I told my mom I was going to take a shower (I even ran the water). I stood on the edge of the tub and grasped the rod tightly. I got on my tiptoes and flung forward with all my might.
I don't remember landing (maybe I briefly blacked out), but I do remember the sound of the curtain rod ripping out of the ceiling and crashing down around me. My mom came running up the stairs and I jumped back into the tub. She burst in and asked what happened. I told her, in my sincerest voice, that I didn't know. The curtain rod just...fell.
She got on the phone to the landlord (yes, this was a rental) who lived next door. I quickly got dressed and he came over. My mom told him what I'd told her, that it just fell. He took one look at it and said, "It looks like someone was swinging from it." I gasped and sputtered, "Psshh, what? Swinging? Why would someone swing from a curtain rod? Duh." and quickly went into my room to hide out until it was fixed.
Needless to say this ended my short lived career as a trapeze artist.
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