Paul’s “G”odiva Spot

One day last week, I came into the Music Building and saw something which at the time, I thought I was seeing things, but then, I realized that it was what I thought it was that I was seeing.  Helga had put up a sign saying, “This is a BUNDT-FREE Zone!”  So you know that I have to have some fun with this!

Firstly, for someone who has so much guilt, and who told me that that there over 2,000 bundts coming, I found this disturbing.  However, Helga DID indeed produce a Bundt last week.  It was SOOOOO good!!!  I think, in analyzing this action, and Helga while I am at it, that there is a definite conflict going on in her mind, and it is now time to dredge up these issues in her mind, and stir up her subconsciousnesses with a stick! Here is what I think:

Helga’s issues I believe first lie with Lulu.  Every morning, Helga has the daunting task of making sure Lulu gets her coffee.  Doing this is a risky thing because at any moment, Lulu and manifest into the Warelulu, where she goes on a Nymph-eating and Shepherd-swallowing rampage!  Not to mention, everytime Lulu takes a bite out of the wall, Helga has to mix cement and fill in the cracks, paint over, spackle, etc.  This takes time, and with all of this time that she has to take to hide Lulu’s secret, she spends less quality time making bundt cakes for Moi.   Thus the continuous cycle of guilt.

The next is her tuba.  Now as we all know, Helga plays the Wagnerian tuba everyday so that the Nymphs and Shepherds who live in the library can come out in their tights, diapers and bad $2.99 permanents and zwiddle desperately throughout the library and sing and play and skip daintily outside and collect clovers!  Firstly, this instrument is heavy.  I can always hear Helga straining every nerve to climb into this contrivance, where she sticks her face into the opening and blows until she either passes out, or her face turns beet red!  Secondly, every now and then, whenever Lulu does manifest, Helga, in trying to get the coffee into her ends up getting coffee into the bell on the tuba, so then, she has to clean it, otherwise the whole library will be crawling with caffeine addicts coming out of the woodwork, like zoombies, droning “COOOFFFFEEEE! COOOFFFFEEEE!!!”. 

Thirdly and finally is the guilt she suffers because she has to keep this secret hidden.  I can just imagine she Helga goes home, and her hubby asks, “So, how was your day?”  Helga has to put on the brilliant 32-tooth grin and answer, “Oh fine!  Everything is great!!  Couldn’t be better!!!  Why do you ask?!!!!”  I can just imagine if she were to tell me the full truth, I am sure he would have to call the little white bus to take her away to the happy farm.

So, the BUNDT-FREE sign was her way of lashing out at society which has kept her repressed for so long, and to give her the feeling of control and empowerment.  To deny someone bundt is a way of saying “I am a woman of power!” (*insert baritone chuckle here*)  Then, she slips into her Wonder Woman bathing suit, and red boots , one-star tiara and her magic lasso and armed with an empty bundt pan and heads off into the evening to conquer this BUNDT-ADDICTED world!!!!

Moi

Now you remember an earlier blog entitled “Open Mouth, Insert Feet”?  Well, this whoopsie moment should be entitled, “Open Mouth, Insert Helga’s Fist!”  and is brought to you by BUNDT’S Vanishing Cream.  Use BUNDT’S Vanishing Cream, and disappear forever!

Last week, I burst into the Music Building with all the desperate glee of a pigtailed rhinoceros in a spandex dress doing Jane Fonda, when I almost ran smack dab into Helga.  She was just about to put on her make-up.  My first reaction was “Oh MY!”  After I said that, I turned green with shame, realizing that I had just said that out loud.  What I really meant to say was this:

“Oh MY, Helga!  Do NOT touch that mascara!  Put down that lipcolour!!  You embody the look that is so desperately needed in fashion today!  You look so…so…ONE with nature…so…EARTHY!  It wreaks with taste and screams with cuteness.  If Vogue and Cosmo were to walk in here right now, they would have to call in for extra rolls of film to capture every ’strike a pose’ moment!  I am not worthy! I am not worthy!!  My heart faints and flounders within my bosom as I am caught up in the ecstasy of your gleeful aura!   I am so happy I could bake a BUNDT or milk a Hoboken cow right now!!!”

So you see, THAT was what I meant to say, but somehow it was interpreted as if I saw a ghost.  So I felt the need to clarify my thoughts so that they are not in any way misconstrued to be what they could be taken as, but are not.  And what they are not is what may be assumed to be…which was a moment of shock, but it was not shock, but rather, awe.  I was struck with awe.  That’s it!  AWE!

You know, Helga’s fist would go down well with a little ketchup but I have a feeling that I might be in for a little broasted CROW!

Moi

You remember Mortimer, don’t you?  The crazy guy who insists upon tying me to a post so that I would hold still long enough to listen to all his high notes, whether I want to or not?  Well, I had the interesting two days with him, and he and I and four other singers headed out to the place that Beryll calls the Commie Province of Saskatchestan!

First, the drive out there.  We left on Tuesday morning and drove west (with Mr. McSprechenzuviel at the wheel) on a direct course to Saskatchestan.  I had the good sense to let Mortimer sit up front with Mr. McSprechenzuviel for the entire trip.  I knew that Mortimer’s irresistable urges to talk about tenors and say who and who can and cannot sing well could not in any way be held back, so he was in good company.  I just sat and listened most of the time.

Upon arrival, nine hours later, Mortimer, who was to share a room with me had the unbridled nerve to tell me that he hopes I do not snore, otherwise he cannot share a room with me, being the DIVO that he is already.  In reality, he ended up keeping me awake all night each night with his version of the chainsaw masacre!

Mortimer has issues with making physical contact with people, especially other guys.  I found this very interesting when he, instead of shaking my hand, would constantly pick me up off of the ground over and over again to prove that he can actually do it!  Well, it seems like those trips to the gym really are paying off!  Picking me up is like lifting a hippo, so it is really no easy feat.

We had a great concert, despite the fact that it was almost 3 hours long!  Thanks to our teacher, and collegue, Mr. McSprechenzuviel, who insisted on narrating the entire evening, every hint we tried to give him to shorten the speeches proved futile.  He was unmoved.  I think that he may have swallowed the energizer bunny by accident.  Notice how you have not seen that ad on tv for a long time?  Where did the bunny go??  I need not say more.

Anywho, it was a very rewarding time, and it was fun too!  We stayed with a wonderful gentleman at his home.  He fed us, took care of us, talked with us and gave us no choice but to be at home.  I hope to see him again one day soon.

Moi

Now here is something that I can tick off of my life’s ‘To-Do List’.  On Friday last, I was involved in, and lost my first ever CAR RALLY!!!  Now before I embarked on this, I imagined this to be an event where I would get to wear a green unitard, and speed around in a car like a crazy superhero, with my cape flying in the wind, and my tongue dangling out of my mouth!

But no!  This was a friendly competition between two teams of five, doing a sort of mini ‘Amazing Race’ like chasing all over Winnipeg.  The great undulating MEGAPOLIS of WINNIPEG!!! 

We started out bursting from the Music Building (our version of the Hall of Justice) where we trampled each other to get to our invisible jets!  I, armed with my team sprang into action.  We started out by driving around in circles before getting to our first task.  You know, it would take too long for to go through the whole evening, so here are the highlights:

First Highlight.  We arrived at Penny’s house, where we encountered our first roadblock.  CLOTHILDA!  She was pacing back and forth wondering why we were invading her space.  Fortunately for us, we did not have to engage in combat with her as our task was to mow the lawn.  In doing so, we appeased the monster.  There I was, zwiddling desperately along behind the mower, my fast beating hamhocks barely touching the ground.  As I was finishing up, my team went skipping daintily through the flower patch, trying to collect a bouquet.

Second Highlight.  We went to the gas station.  Now I know you might think this was simple enough, but we had to purchase nine cents worth of fuel for our car.  That’s nine pennies.  Nine annoying little pieces of copper alloy!!  We had the terrible luck of getting the pump that was on the opposite end of the paystation.  Plus, our bratmobile was diesel, and that was where the pump was that we could get to!  It took three tries.  At each turn, I had to be again zwiddling desperately back and forth, my blurred hamhocks kicking up dust in their wake!  After the third try, I was sure that the attendant was going to call the little white padded bus for us all!

Third Highlight.  Now WHOSE idea was it to state that one of the tasks was to get some poor unsuspecting person with long hair to put her hair into pigtails and take a picture with a sign stating, ‘I love Paul’ on the front?  I do not have a fettish for pigtails!  That is just silly!  Even sillier was when we all went bursting into Earl’s and, while panting desperately, asked a waitress to assist.  I am sure we left a lasting impression upon her mind.  I am almost sure she is in therapy right now.

Fourth Highlight.  Bouquets!  Now, I thought that collecting flowers was supposed to be a relaxing, calming thing.  Instead, it was something more along the lines of the Tasmanian Devil after a quadruple espresso shot!  At the stoplight by Magillvray, I noticed some yellow flowers growing on the median.  I got out of the car, zwiddling desperately into the bush, my hamhocks churning furiously along, grabbed a few, and squealed back into the car before the drivers behind got a chance to call the emergency psycheline.

Though my team lost, it was still lots of fun!  I think the reason we lost was that the other team had a very crazy driver, named Lola!  Now she does not know this, but I spotted her tyre marks all over the routes we followed.  I would know that she was there, as we were always driving in a cloud of smoke.  Of course, I know that she is really a secret agent working for an international anti-terrorist organization, where she has to fly all over the world, rescue heads of state, flirt with danger, drink vodka lemon-drop martinis, stirred, not whipped, and swallow grenades for breakfast!  (*insert baritone chuckle here*)

Well, I had fun, and I should have lost a few ounces from all of those zwiddlings!  Well, I hope so.  To make sure of this, I will be holding a loaded gun to the scale when I stand on it!

Moi

I am sure that upon reading this, you are thinking that I am a star on the WB (Warner Bros.).  Sweet, but no.  WB in this instance means Without Bundt!

Now Helga has been warned that if she does not make with a double chocolate Bundt by Friday next week, there will be a reaction, and it will be all her fault.  So when you find my remains (from spontaneous combustion, or otherwise), you can blame HELGA!  Well, anything that goes wrong from now on, blame HELGA!!  Why?  Because she is adorable, and plays the tuba, and is too cute to give any trouble, so she is a natural scapegoat.  Besides, my mother always told me that it is always the innocent ones who one has to watch out for!

There are four forms of expiration that can possibly occur due to lack of Bundt!  And, as usual, I will share them all with you whether you want me to or not, so you might as well curl up in the foetal position and hold unto your pigtails, for here they are:

The first form of expiration is called the clear-white, or nymphs and shepherds style of flinging yourself upon the floor.  For this, one needs to place hand upon brow, facing outwards of course, gasp loudly, recite a mish-mash of Shakespeare, and Chaucer (in no particular order or even sensible manner) with an overdone British accent, and then, finally, delicately crumple to the floor.  This one is not my favourite because it is boring, and a little too dainty for my taste.

The second form is that of the childlike stomp.  Having been a camp councellor on many an occasion, I know full well when a child is about to throw a fit of temper.  You can usually see it building like a volcano desperate to erupt.  For this, one needs a high pitched whine or squeal, some irregular foot stompings, flailing arms, and persistence.  All of this must be done as soon as one flings himself/herself upon the floor.  So it is a drop-whine/squeal-wrigle kind of thing.

The third form is the free fall.  This one should only be attempted by either professional stuntmen/stuntwomen, or those who are at the superlative end of desperate for attention!  Usually, it helps to do this when you have someone strong enough to catch you, for without it, one will hit the floor, and the floor does not have much give to it, in case you didn’t know it.  Trust me!  I know from experience!!!

The last form is my most favourite!  This is called the VENDETTA bosom toss!  All this entails is one diving into an unsuspecting bosom.  It is interesting to note that this one is the one that will take anybody by surprise.  One moment, you are tending to your own business, and the next, you have someone who has thrusted himself/herself into your bosom.  One will say that this only works in the cartoons, but I beg to differ.  Usually you can facsimilate this reaction with anyone by holding up a mouse, cockroach, or any such unwanted creature, and seeing how high they jump, in splits of course, and more importantly upon whom they jump, screaming “AAAAACK!!!!  A MOUSE!!!!  EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!!   KILL IT KILL IT KILL IIIIIIT!!!!!!!”  I, however, know better than to do that to Helga or Lulu.  If I did, they would scream, jump, and while in mid air, do a split each, and then one of them would probably pick me up by the legs and use me as a club, thwacking me all over the place, chasing after the creature around the building, trying to kill it, and thus killing me in the process!

So, for the sake of sanity, of which I have plenty, please make Helga produce a double chocolate Bundt!  Just think of it as a service you are doing for me, and for others around us.

Moi

PPTTSD is an acronym which stands for Post Partum Traumatic Tour Stress Disorder!  Now I am sure if Tom Cruise were reading this, he might assault another couch by pulling the stuffing out of it!  But for the purposes of this blog, seeing that it is mine, I really do not care too much about what he thinks.  He seems to have an affinity for couches anyway, so he can knock himself senseless at home for all I care!

Fun while it lasted, but now that it’s ooooooover, I keep waking up at weird hours of the night with Mozart running mercilessly rampant through my head!  Just like in the cartoon where Bugs Bunny enters into Elmer Fudd’s dream, ties him to the railroad tracks and sings, “The rabbits are coming…HURRAY HURRAY!! The rabbits are coming…HURRAY HURRAY!!” this tour has done nothing but to have me emit certain strange forms of behaviour which are even strange to me!

Here is an example.  I was in a conversation with someone the yesterday talking about the opera, “The Marriage of Figaro”.  The moment I heard them say, “The Marriage of Figaro”, almost as if I were in a trance, I blurted out “Here they talk nothing but Fiiiigaro!  Nothing is played, sung or whistled but Fiiiigaro!  Nothing!  Nothing but Fiiiigaro!”  I guess that would explain why they were looking at me as if I was unstable.

The next thing that happened was I was walking past a radio which was tuned to CBC Radio 2.  They were playing that section from “The Abduction from the Seraglio” where the chorus comes in praising the name of Pasha Selim.  Without thinking, as if someone pushed the ’start’ button in my back, I began to do that little dance step we were MADE to do for this number!  I caught myself halfway through, and had to slap myself several times to snap out of it!

The worst part of all of this was when I happened upon a very bad soap opera on TV.  As I was watching the desperately BAD acting, one of the characters, a woman, got up from her perch and flung herself accross the ground, doing a very fake weep.  She squealed, “But DAHLING, (*sniff*) who was it?”  And, without ANY ability to contain myself, I responded, “Me?  My own son??  My fiance???”  Then, I flung myself with my arms open out the door of my room, and ended up crashing into some unsuspecting person who was wondering why this crazy person was diving into her arms!  Once I saw it was a woman, I clutched my bosom and squealed in uncontrollable exasperation, “Oh help me! Oh help me!! My life is in danger!!!!”  Needless to say that she stepped slowly away from me, went pale, and then, turned around and walked right into a closed door.  I am sure she is somewhere seeking therapy right now!

So now, I think I need some help! “Thank goodness!  But…”  (*GASP!*) See what I mean??  It is happening again!  I find myself curling up into the foetal position at night sucking my thumb and clinging desperately to my stuffed elephant, Diddims.  If anyone who reads this blog has any suggestion as to what you think I need to do, or where I need to go to seek help, please write your comments out, and I will consider them.  However, I am quite confident that this will all pass, as I am not crazy and am in my right mind.  I am still sane and certifiably so!

Moi

Guess who’s BACH!?

I realize that it has been a while since I have last blogged, and I am sure that there are some that are wondering if I am still alive.  Well, I am, and I am kicking with all the fervour of an elephant on point doing Swan Lake!

We just completed a four week opera tour, in which we performed a musical play called “Mozart: A Life Worth Noting”.  In this play, we discuss Mozart’s life from his birth to his death and some of the stuff in betwixt!  So, as is my typical fashion, here is a snippet of what life was like on the road with my collegues:

Performing Day 1.  I come bursting into the music building with all the gusto and grace of a caffeinated hippo.  The three mighty ladies (a.k.a. Juniper, Jasmin, and Twiggy) arrive a few minutes after.  “Dudes, are we ready to rock??”  We all look as excited as a bunch of sea eggs at the bottom of the ocean.  I figured that it would get better as time went along, but for now, I am not complaining.  “OK! Now if you stink, you cannot come in the van!  No smelly food, or feet…if you have B/O you will be told.  And, NO GIVING MOI CHOCOLATE!!!  You will regret it if you do.”  Upon hearing that, my mouth hit the floor.  They were picking on me already, and we only just began.  They are all out to get me!

Performing Day 11.  Half way through the tour!  At this point, we have all learned different strategies of coping with one another.  In the mornings, we made sure that Twiggy got a key to one of the vans, as she always insisted on driving, which none of us minded.  I certainly did not want to drive, so I was glad for her behind-the-wheel eagerness.  As per typical, Jiminie would always arrive at school late.  After loading up the prop van, we would climb into our seats, and head out.  Almost on cue every morning, Jiminie would start eating his lunch…at 8:30AM!  Then is when I realized something about him.  As a student in school, his favourite class was LUNCH PERIOD!  He would always start drooling whenever he smelled something good.  I was going to make him a little sign and hang it around his neck on a string saying “please feed the starveling!”  Everytime I brought him a treat, he would hop up and down almost like needing to go to the toilette, squealing desperately and clapping his hands in glee.  We also had some crazy people in our bunch!  At any given time, Jasmin would spontaneously start laughing for no reason, Jermaine (who would drive from time to time) would be swerving all over the road in an attempt to see what I look like after tossing my cookies, and Jiminie would always be asking for someone to slap him!  I have my own analysis of Jiminie’s obssessions on being slapped, but that is for a later blog entry.

Performing Day 17. Almost done!  We are at this point starting to wind down.  We were doing our routine, and as we were about to do the dance, I looked over at Twiggy and said through a toothy grin, “Great! We get to jump around like idiots again!”  She and I burst out laughing so hard that we could not even sing.  We just danced the routine, smiled, and walked off with everyone after it was done, and LOST IT!  There was also an earlier show where we did that same dance routine on a stage that was unstable.  I kept imagining what would have happened if the stage had given way while we were jumping around on it!  As I was doing the dance, all I could hear was creak, creak, creak… I think this was the show that we all did stuff to make each other have to fight to keep it together!  It was fun!  It was at this show as well, when I took a quick peak out of one eye while I was on the floor supposedly passed out from being chased by a snake to see Twiggy in a viking helmet staring longingly upon me.  She did everything possible to get me to lose my concentration, but I managed to stave off the laughter everytime. 

LAST DAY LAST SHOW!  This show was performed in a record 45 minutes!  We were like opera singers on crack!  At this point, we just wanted to be done, that we cranked the energy up full tilt.  We also decided to put our own little artistic spin of everything.  And then, it was all over. 

I know that I am going to miss everyone.  There is a little part of me that wishes we were still on tour, but that is just a small part!  Now, it is time to move on from this closed chapter, and move into a new one.

Moi