There is a thin layer of dust on my blog because I have been working on a top secret project that is consuming all of my free time. I was working on this top secret project all week, staying up late and going up to bed in the wee hours all bug-eyed and hopped up on the blue light emanating from my computer screen, until finally P-Dawg laid down the law and prohibited me from working on the computer past 11:00.
And I agreed that this was an excellent idea, but after he'd fall asleep I would whip my laptop out from under the sheets and work some more until my eyes popped out of their orbs on little cartoon springs and I started calling individual pixels by name.
Then last night my mom called to suggest in a friendly way that wouldn't it be nice if I put together something creative and very special for my dad's upcoming 75th birthday? The birthday is in two days.
"Only if you are so inclined, of course" she added. And who knows, she might have really meant it, but when I ran the message through my daughter filter, it said: "I know it's last minute, but I really hope you do this for your dad because you are the one with the creative streak and it would be shameful if none of his three children did something special for his 75th birthday. Just think how you would feel after we're dead and gone."
I spent a few seconds silently cursing the twin brothers Rama, who are mechanically inclined and roundly applauded when they remember to buy a Hallmark card and send it in time for Mother's Day. They never have to write a poem.
"Um . . . Okay. Like what?" I asked, realizing just then that I probably should have thought of this myself ages ago.
"Oh, as nezinau. Ka nors ipatingo. Ir kurybingo. Ir juokingo. Zinai, tu labai moki." (Oh, I don't know. Just something special. And creative. And funny. You're so good at that stuff! We always enjoy your Christmas newsletter. Except last year, when you made fun of Uncle Vic and the chipmunks. He was offended because it wasn't a chipmunk he was trying to smoke out of his garden, but a muskrat, which is totally different and actually did warrant his using the dynamite.)
"Okay. I'll give it a go."
It's possible that the only thing my mother has in mind is for me to write my dad a poem, like "Ode to My Dad" or something, but I feel that if I don't at least try to put on a play or multi-media presentation, I will have failed in my capacity as oldest child and only daughter.
So now I have two special projects. I am very special.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
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6 comments:
Your are indeed very special. And I am very curious about your super top secret project. Good luck pulling it all off. (But maybe not really pulling it all off. A strip show is probably not what your mother had in mind.)
Nothing makes me hyperventilate faster than being in charge of a party...or attending a party...or even thinking about parties.
Where's my paper bag?
Good Luck!
ah... top secret projects. i know these. at least my secret is now out of the bag. still stressful, but the secret part adds to it.
hope you come up with something fabulously clever and creative, pleasing everyone, including yourself. ;)
But, only if you are so inclined. ;)
My daughter filter would have spit out the same thing.
Let us know how it went. I'm sure spectacularly, because yes, you are special!
You are special.
Post what you end up with.
Think you're gonna do the pinata?
That'd be cool.
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