Small Face came over tonight. He has his own little thing going on to make extra money and that my friend is… being a CLOWN or should I say entertainer? He’s the guy who’s behind those costumes, the clown making the balloons, the guy doing the funny dances at a kid’s birthday party and gets paid for it. So, since I’m out of work and he’s my friend, he wants to help me out as I want to help him. He said I was perfect. I’m definitely a clown. I can be a PRINCESS or WONDER WOMAN.
I had my first lesson in balloon making tonight, and I did pretty darn good. Now the thing is, I have to remember how to make them. He’s going to drop off a paint facing book so I can paint all those kids up. I told him that I would practice on my nieces and nephews when I get to Florida. They are all there visiting my parents. Well not all of them but most of them.
I put all the balloons we made in a huge clear recycling bag, that my cat now is scrambling through. There was this one particular balloon we were making and as a joke I twisted it a certain way and said look a mosquito. I had them piled up on my living room area rug. My cat decides to pick the one balloon in the middle of the pile with her mouth and brings it to the futon. I took a sneak peak and noticed she picked the mosquito. How funny is that? If she’s not chasing a real bug, she’s chasing for the balloon one. It’s amazing, how their mind works.
All I kept thinking was this will be fun, but I really don’t want to go to a party where someone will notice me. I mean they see me in a clown outfit twisting balloons and making children laugh. It’s sort of awkward. Heck, if I can make people laugh, it makes me feel good. One of the most beautiful sounds is children’s laughter. A remedy to a lost soul.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Small Face The Clown
CiaFai, that would be pronounced Cha-Fai. I’m not that ordinary female. I'm deep and sometimes people don't understand me. I'm artistic and eclectic. I’m always thinking, a disease I can not get rid of. If it’s not thoughts of a song that I’m writing it’s about the world and how people affect me in this place we call home. I love being me, because everyone isn’t surprised if I do anything crazy or out of the ordinary, they sort of expect it from me. I’m sensitive, strong, and I was told that I’ve got a great sense of humor and a heart of gold. I’m very intuitive to everything and sometimes it scares me. You might think I’m crazy, I really don’t give a fuck!
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