i went to a child's birthday party yesterday. not usually my favorite way to spend a saturday afternoon. did you know they don't serve drinks at these events? but i actually love these kids, so i go and sit thru endless games of musical chairs and pinata bashing. as part of the entertainment, the family hired a magician. it was a female magician and her assistant, Peanuts, who appeared to be her 13 year old daughter dressed as a clown. that girl may be hating her life right now, but in 10 years she will be able to write a really interesting coming of age memoir. "Peanuts, A Childhood Coated in Greasepaint and the Stench of Humiliation."
the magician looked, for lack of a better term, rode hard and put away wet. she had the look of an ex smack addict that has gotten clean and turned her life around. i imagine she had no legal, marketable skills, so she bought a book on magic and hit the kid's party circuit. she is no longer high on dope, she's high on MAGIC!
as i watched her show, i realized that she had most likely incorporated some of her old druggie skills and lifestyle into her act. stick with what you know, as they say.
this is the rabbit she uses in the act. she now calls him SnoBall, but i'm pretty certain he used to answer to the name 8-Ball.
here she is performing the classic rope trick. i am not sure how it works, but those are probably the ropes she used to use to tie off with. she gets 2 points for recycling!
the sleight of hand tricks she used to shoplift groceries and tampons back in the day are now part of her "now you see it, now don't" tricks.
LOOK! no more track marks! it's magic!
yes, this is how i amuse myself at kid's parties.
and just for kicks and giggles, here is a pic of my best friend. the party had a superhero theme and everyone was supposed to wear costumes. he was Underdog.i am usually exempt from having to wear one because i have to drive 3 hours to get there (yes, i love these kids THAT much), so they let me slide. driving that long in a costume is NOT fun. trust me, i have done it. and there is no joy like stopping for gas and soda dressed like Pocohantas in the middle of the day.