22. Elephant Dung

elephant20shit1Have you ever been forced to participate in one of those painful icebreakers?  You know, the kind that finds you babbling about why you would be reincarnated as a certain animal.  I always say cheetah, panther, or lioness.  I am so full of it.

During my zoo trip all of the cats were so boring.  They wrapped  themselves in fury balls that resembled placid sculptures.  They weren’t running fast, bearing teeth, or roaring like kings and queens of the jungle.   Animal Planet lied to me.

Secretly, my animal spirit is the majestic elephant.  After I passed the cats I rushed to the Asia Trial.  I couldn’t wait to see the elephants.  I leaned on a fence right above them and raised an eyebrow.  The only elephant in the enclosure was swaying side to side, swaying side to side, swaying side to side…Why won’t that elephant stop swaying side to side?  If he could speak I imagine him saying, “Doh dohdy oh, Doh dohdy oh. falafalDoh!”  Ok, he has stopped swaying.  Uh oh!  Now he’s banging his head against a large cage.  There is so much grass for him to roam in.  Why is he standing in the one corner piled with steaming piles of his own dung?

Secretly, my animal spirit is the elephant.  I’m standing in my own shit banging my head against a cage.  I tried to wait for the elephant to do something more productive but he wouldn’t move on.  I hightailed it out of there in a rush to get my Amsterdam falafel  and  side of fries.

4 thoughts on “22. Elephant Dung

  1. OK, first of all? I hate icebreakers. I fucking HATE them. I’d rather you stabbed me in the eye with an ice pick whilst calmly pulling out my toenails and making me inhale second-hand cigar smoke than take part in that whole mess.

    Second, what animal would I be? Well, if you put a gun to my head, I’d probably say a bird (oh, the escape and freedom imagery!). But really, secretly, I want to be a giraffe. They are all tall, leggy blondes. And I am decidedly not.

    Third, stop banging your damn head against teh cage, woman. You need that thing (your head, not the cage).


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s