No one knows what the body can do. -Spinoza

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Ba'Qa': Marrying Brides of the Klingon Universe

I seem to have the most horrible, hilarious friends.

One of my dream-hopes since the little-kid years has been to walk into the middle of a surprise party that I didn't know was happening. (hint! hint!) Growing up it seemed like there were surprise parties going on all the time. So-and-so Father just turned 40. Mrs such-and-such Auntee graduated as an older student from college. Honey-love-wah-wah was heading off to university on the other side of the country. Whatever the reason, there we were going to or hosting a surprise party. I thought the idea was fabulous, and have tried to carry on the practice of surprise gifts in the ways that I can.

It turns out I've never hosted a surprise party myself. Though I've pulled a number of surprise-for-a-party pranks on my family or friends like hearing they're having a get together for someone's birthday, or because one of them is expecting a baby, and then there I go flying across the country with only one person in-the-know ready to make sure the door is unlocked so I can walk in all casual like it was planned all along.

I also enjoy sending people gifts at random dates, rather than just for a holiday, because walking through town, there I came across the thing that was perfect for whoever it is and I just had to send it on its way --like the Olivia Newton John Cowgirl-in-Fringe-and-Now-Dancing photograph I happened upon a couple of weeks ago for my friend Christine.

It appears my friends have recently started returning the favor.

Back in December, out of nowhere, I got in the mail the most horrible, horrible gift. I started receiving BRIDES magazine. At first I thought maybe the thing was some kind of promotional, and the publishers had just made a mistake on who (me) they were marketing to. But instead, later in January, I was notified separately that the magazine was provided through anonymous, gift subscription, and here the thing has continued to appear monthly in my mailbox. WHAT?!!

In case I haven't been clear enough on this here blog, I'm not married, don't expect to get married, and in fact don't even have what some people like to call "a prospect." In addition, while I'm not closed to the idea of LOVE! OH AMOUR! MY HEART! MY HEART! entering into my life, I haven't actually been looking. It's nice to know, however, that someone out there is either content to RUB THIS FACT IN A LITTLE HARDER EVERY MONTH FOR A YEAR, or is trying to communicate that THEY BELIEVE IN ME AND MY ABILITY TO FIND AN OCCASION FOR THAT SPECIAL DRESS AND FLOWERS, or, perhaps, as others have suggested, are trying to let me know they WANT ME TO BE THEIR BRIDE? (what kind of screwy way would a subscription to BRIDES be for wooing someone? that's mildly funny when thought of as never-actually-going-t0-happen). Another friend and I had a good laugh over the idea that someone was actually trying to send me a subscription to a travel magazine called something like Bridges or perhaps a motorcycle magazine called Rides or maybe a psychological-philosophical-spiritual periodical about accepting life's challenges named Abides.

Gratefully, I have a friend in town that creates, alters, and repairs wedding dresses, so, without even cracking open the pages, I just walk that 1 lb. periodical straight on over to her studio every month and drop it off for her to enjoy as part of her job.

As if BRIDES appearing anonymously wasn't enough, this week I received another un-admitted-to-by-anyone gift. (To be honest though, with this one I think I know who it is, Miss Olivia Newton John.)

(Klingon for "damn it!") Goofy friends! You've gotta love a book with Christopher Lloyd looking like a bad ass on the cover though. More often he's been forced to play entirely doofy characters, and in the Star Trek universe at least he gets to appear as a hard-hearted, slobber-dog loving, enemy of the Enterprise. You've gotta love a man that challenges our dear Captain Kirk.

Unlike the other anonymous gift of BRIDES magazine, Receiving The Klingon Dictionary at least has clearer purpose. It'll be useful for the 10-year old I live with and I to tell people off without them knowing, or to translate the couple of Klingon-heavy Star Trek movies we're watching as part of our Warp Project. maj. maj. (Klingon for "good. good."). It turns out too, interestingly enough, I should be able to really excel at this Klingon-speak thing. A lot of the sounds are remarkably close to the Alutiq-Yupik language I grew up listening to, and in both cases, the only words I've had the opportunity to learn so far are some variation of cussing. I'm also planning to petition my Ph.D. program to find out if I could take a Klingon translation test in lieu of French.

Thanks Mr. or Ms. Anonymous for your goofy thoughtfulness. Lots of Love to you in return!

1 comment:

  1. whooooa, it's actually a whole year's subscription to Brides? that is twisted.