packing stories

I am in the Seattle Airport, on my way to Vancouver. I’ve had a big glass of wine, a big crab salad and a big cup of coffee. And now I have a big wait for my plane. You’ll forgive me if this doesn’t make complete sense, won’t you?

I’m on my wait to meet my parents, and Brendan’s folks, to see Kate and Brendan’s show at the Vancouver International Fringe Festival. I mean, how cool is that? Unless this is your first time here, you’ve been following the story.

Kate met Brendan a few years ago, and I have no idea how the universe conspired to get these two in the same moment of their life adventure. Take a look at this, and you will know what I mean. This is a show they’ve been working on since the spring, and are performing twice a night for two weeks. Their boat seats eight. Stores are shared and then archived here.

They’ve had great reviews. Like this.

I have been stressing about this a little. No for them, but for me. I have two minutes to tell a story. In the beginning, it was a dream, and I was really worried, since most of my dreams are about me needing to pee and the search for a bathroom, and my compromise for something that is less than a toilet. Oh, too much information? Sorry. Anyway, I’ve been pondering my two minute stories, which is a problem, since none of mine fit into two minute packages. This morning I tested my story of Toby and I got to three minutes before I even got him home.

My list:

  • My trains, planes and automobiles overnight trip to Santa Fe when I was 6 months pregnant and was probably the horniest I have ever been in my life, and we had reservations for a couchette, and ….well, that one veers into TMI territory as well, especially when my dad is in the boat with me.
  • Making you a salad. Don’t scoff, I make the best salad you have ever had. There will be plenty of goat cheese. Maybe figs. You will be impressed and delighted.
  • The poorest place I have ever been, and meeting Fula Devi in Bihar, India.
  • My New Orleans drinking story. It’s short, but embarrassing.
  • A dog who peed on everything, including Christmas presents, and why we loved him. You know who I mean.
  • How I celebrated Mother’s Day by getting poison oak on my butt. Also embarrassing, and kind of gross.
  • Why I love coffee. I haven’t worked this one out yet, but I think I could muster something up.
  • Falling in love with baseball. Also not worked out. But I have plenty of material. And a panda hat. Which I brought with me (you’d have to be a Giant’s fan to understand).

When I was having my aforementioned glass of wine I thought about .the night I spent at the Hare Krishna headquarters in Mayapur, India. It was pretty fun and weird and scary and enlightening and delightful. I just spoke to Kate and told her I picked a story, and she warned me that it was best to not over think this. I wonder if she knew she was too late with that piece of advice?

It’s interesting though…a two minutes story. Which one do you pack?  I wonder which one I’ll pick. Stay tuned.

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About kim tackett

Northern CA marketing consultant, writer of very small stories, and drinker of very strong coffee.
This entry was posted in Just Life. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to packing stories

  1. Nicolle says:

    I hope you are enjoying Vancouver and that the show is going WONDERFULLY! 🙂

    Your 2 minute list left me laughing…especially #1.

    AND, dreaming of needing to pee and searching for a bathroom….that is so me. I think I have that dream almost every night. I usually find one in my dream, but it’s full or dirty and I can’t use it. Funny!

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