I'd like to think that everyone's life is an adventure.
That, no matter what someone's lot in life is, there's a sort of adventure even if you never leave the country or go bungee jumping.
So far, my life has been that kind of adventure. Muted, somewhat subdued, yet wonderful. : )
Although, there was one point where it could've fallen into a sort of brash, fast-paced sort of endeavor. One that could've taken me in a completely different direction.
Friends, I'd like to tell you about the time I was almost famous.
When I was about 5 or 6 years old, there was a shopping center that we used to go to all the time by our house. It surpassed all ordinary shopping centers because it had this little ride in the middle, a pet store, a fountain, a Learning Ladder (one of the coolest stores on earth when I was a kid), and an Orange Julius. Let me take the time to fill you in on each one of these places so you get the full effect of its splendor on my young person.
The ride was this little carousel thingie, but with cars. Different themed cars that had stuffed animals in the passenger seats, and in the center of this procession was a giant Icee. This ride was almost more of a dream than a reality. A mirage. An entity. In other words, I was rarely allowed on it. I recall once, just... once.
The pet store was another favorite because seriously come on who doesn't like fluffy bunnies and puppies and hamsters and things???
I vividly remember the fountain. There was a short flight of stairs, and the fountain flowed from the upstairs to the downstairs, like a tiny waterfall. My mom would give us coins to make wishes on. I'd make hopeful wishes that probably never came true (If they did, there's a chance I'd be a mermaid right now...)
The Learning Ladder was more of a mom store. Really, it was the dream of homeschooling moms everywhere, because it had all sorts of books and learning tools and whatnot. But it was colorful, and had a Thomas the Tank Engine train table. Therefore it was objectively amazing.
Then there was the Orange Julius.
Oh, melodic name that sings of joy in liquid form!
At that time, the Orange Julius, to me, was like gold made from the most radiant sunlight, harvested from the purest mountain by the good Lord's most trustworthy cherubs. In order to convert it to liquid, it was not blended, no; but instead, it was melted by the sweet voices of the angels as every harmonious chord that left their flawless throats broke it down, so to speak, into its purest of forms: The Orange Julius. Sweet nectar from on high.
The Orange Julius was the highlight of the shopping center. I was drawn to those things like a newly-hatched sea turtle is drawn to the ocean that carries it home.
Anyway, on one particular trip to said shopping center, Karissa, Kyla and I were promised Orange Juli (that's the plural term, right?) I don't really remember the details of that trip, I just remember being drug around for a painfully long time. That Julius was what kept up my 5 year old morale. It was the orange light at the end of a dreary tunnel.
My mom's errands were coming to an end, when we ran into this professional-looking lady who looked at the three of us kids and exclaimed, "Oh my goodness! Your kids are adorable!" She then proceeded to give my mom her card, tell her she was a modeling agent, and she'd love to take pictures of us if we had the time. She gave all the details, which I don't remember. I do remember that we were to go to a certain location for the photo shoot, that happened to be that very day. I immediately imagined myself walking down a runway.
When the lady said goodbye, my mom turned to us. "Ok guys," she said, "We can go to this thing if you want to. What do you want to do?"
Karissa and I passionately exclaimed that we wanted to go. But then she said... "The only thing is, if we go, we won't have time to go to Orange Julius."
My naive mind, not being able to foresee that this wouldn't be the only opportunity to have an Orange Julius in the future, saw it as a tragic dilemma. I pondered for a second, then, in a moment that changed the course of history, I made my decision.
"Let's go to Orange Julius."
The fates were sealed in those five words. Karissa, following my example, agreed by default.
My chances of being discovered as a young model were vanquished.
The desire for fame was squelched by the desire for gold.
Some might think my mom was to blame for putting such a weighty decision into my young, albeit spidery hands. To that I say nay. She was only putting our desires first and preventing herself from being one of these moms.
And for that, I am thankful. (Very, very thankful).
And who knows? Child stars rarely have a wholesome end. My fifteen minutes of fame on a Carter's Kids catalog could've led me down a drunken road of depravity.
One second an Orange Julius, the next, CRACK COCAINE.
Vodka in my sippy cup.
Sneaking a pack of cigarettes between potty breaks.
The paparazzi catching me in nightclubs past my bedtime.
The police raiding my Barbie Dream House.
I look at what could've been, and I have no regrets.
Although, it is a shame that I might be depriving the world of this.
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I didn't like it. :P
