In support of delusions all the same

daphne on March 10, 2009

Thank you for asking, but no, I am not going to Australia. I am not going to work and live on the islands of the Great Barrier Reef.  And yes, I too am floored by the audacity of this rejection at the hands of the tourism council of Queensland. I simply cannot understand their blasé willingness to pass on the incredible opportunity of me.

This is not me, snorkeling in the crystalline waters of the Great Barrier Reef.

I know, it’s hard to comprehend.  I also believed myself to be the ideal candidate for the best job in the world.  With my zest for life, my Oscar worthy video application and my astonishing capacity for rhyme, I had all but packed my bags when I heard the shocking news:  I was not chosen to assume the responsibilities of island caretaker in the Great Barrier Reef.

As it turns out I will not be whisking my family away for six blissful months of life in the land down under.

And though my musings were sure to be well-informed, witty and succinct, I will not be paid unfathomable sums to write about the adventures I would have had on the island and frolicking about in the surrounding waters.

My children will not grow bronzed beneath the southern sun as they forge friendships with the brilliantly colored creatures beneath the sea.

I am disappointed. Of course I am.  I am still clicking around on the website, for pete’s sake, scanning it for the clue that will elucidate the massive error in judgment that has me sitting here in suburbia while someone else, most likely this singing and dancing Canadian, lives out my life’s dream.

What am I doing here?  I look so much cuter in my mask and snorkel.

Ah well, it was a blast while it lasted.  And even if it did only play out in the fantastical theater of my head, it was a damn good show.  And just so you know, I’m still a big fan of obsessions. They come in handy for someone who favors life with her head in the clouds over sunnier shores.

Sure, I’m disappointed, but it’s alright.  It’s to be expected from time to time when you’re delusional.

Besides, my perfect island is out there, somewhere.  I just need to find it.

Obsessed? You say that like it’s a bad thing.

daphne on February 3, 2009

Allow me to formally apologize to those I may have neglected over the past couple of weeks.  Though in my defense, the children haven’t once gone to school naked and although I ate M&Ms for dinner last night I am a grown-up and that was my choice.  The girls, for the record, ate pasta.

It’s actually been nice to take a time out from being fixated on the intricate eating habits of sub-four-foot humans.  Despite the grumbles around me, I think that my new obsession has livened things up a bit around here.

I’m not saying that I’ve grown tired of beating down the green path.  I’m just saying that if one’s path becomes studded with low swinging branches dangling dreamy opportunities, well, I for one am up for a nice poke in the eye of something new.

And it just so happens that the good people down at Tourism Queensland have been hard at work creating the ideal job for me.  So when I got word that a caretaker/writer is needed to live on the Great Barrier Reef for six months and swim, surf and share her fabulous experiences and adventures, well, that’s the kind of call I like to heed.  And I’m talking stop dead in my tracks and heed.

Yes, I became a tad obsessed, but it’s not like that’s a bad thing.  People with passion are interesting, exciting, you know, passionate.

And sure, I spent every waking hour of the past few weeks working on my application, but it’s not like my kids ever boarded the school bus naked.  At least, I’m pretty sure they didn’t.  I probably would have gotten a call or something if they had and I didn’t hear the phone ring.  Of course, the calypso band in my head has been pumping to the rhythm of my island dreams, so I can be forgiven if I missed something as banal as the ringing of a phone.

Anyways, I’m back now. I finished the application, and it’s down to me; me, and about 30,000 other applicants from across the globe all vying for the position that was molded entirely with me in mind.

Take a look, here it is:  Daphne’s Application.

My children, for the record, have been extremely supportive.  They are all but packed with snorkel and swimsuit in hand.  I’d argue that even if they did go to school sans clothes (which they did not) it’s a small price to pay for the incredible life lesson they’ve gained.  The lesson of what it means really, truly to want something.  And of working your hardest to achieve that dream.

I believe that’s a lesson that will serve them well, wherever life may take them.

Like, for argument’s sake, Australia.