Somewhere between spending far too much time trying to extract two little girls from the bathroom at the Madonna Inn and an unwelcome SURPRISE! freeway closure in San Jose, a game was conceived.
Little sketches had been coming out in dribs and drabs after the back seat car sickness victim (aka my daughter) had dozed off and her best friend (who once proclaimed with great self satisfaction that I slept with my mouth open), was herself asleep...and much to my delight, (wrong though it may be) was so with her mouth wide open.
We were off to San Francisco for a very cool little boys birthday, and having no money to buy anything for him, I decided to make a game.
8 am rolled around, the birthday in the park was at 1, so now was my only chance to do it. Excusing myself from that den of road weary sleepy eyed travelers, I hauled my limping pirate arse (I'm referring to the stupid dragging leg effect I experience when under medicated...I really need a patch and a parrot for those moments) downstairs to beg a cardboard box of the world on this San Francisco morning.
Much to the surprise of my boyfriend (who's ability and desire to interfere with his fellow homo sapiens is the absolute opposite of mine) I reappeared mere minutes later sporting my treasure...an old cardboard box that a perfect stranger downstairs had been saving just for me. Who knew?
I always think of these impositions, of my frequent and often audacious asks of the world (do you have a box I could have? An extra towel? Some milk? Something to eat? A room to live in? Some extra bunny food? Sox? A good Lacan quote?), as opportunities for my glorious fellow human beings to help someone ...in this case, me...self serving though that thought may appear. It feels good to help doesn't it? It's one of the best things ever, and I am so so thankful for all the stunning people who have helped me over the years and ESPECIALLY the last couple.
Detour! I'm back. So, I went to work with my sharpie and some crayon d'ache (water soluble FANTASTIC crayon like things that can be used for face painting too...those French are so clever!) and the game of Snibble was hatched.
Yes...hatched...and then I couldn't stop. We went to the party and how did I show my respect for the birthday boy and his terrific family? I laid down on a blanket, somewhere near a great bog of dog pee it turned out...and happily continued working, ALL through the party, and the soccer match after, and more park fun while waiting to go to Chucky cheese...an experience I will not soon forget.
I couldn't bring myself to stop fiddling with these characters. Tumble berry, Cree Cree Zolero, Malek Pazelnube, Parsnip Foolage, Foss Grip, Nell, Furzip Olala, Arnot and Linka...I'd fallen in love with them all...and then determined that the game needed rockets too (for which I stole the top of a cheetos box at the party FROM THE BIRTHDAY BOY...I told you, audacious!)
Later I justified my absence from the scene in two ways, neither of which make it at all ok that I wasn't more involved with these awesome people, for whom we'd driven 300 miles to celebrate.
In one instance I reminded myself that I'd promised not to make my boyfriends mom cry...again(!), that I would not bring up death or degenerative disorders or divorce or depression. That I would be polite and not drink too much, or at all, and risk falling into some extended (but always interesting!) exploration of our respective histories, or the meaning of life or a discussion about Facebook or God. No...this obsessive doodling made SURE I hardly had time to even talk to her.
In the other scenario I remembered that my boyfriend had told me that probably, if I wanted to be that 35 million dollar industry in 5 years (which I do...and it's my goal to fail miserably with. MINE!), it would most likely entail the sort of obsession that seriously compromises almost all other parts of a persons life. Aaaahhhh...was it really true? YES! I was obsessed, and had compromised!!! I might have what it takes to be successful after all! Or, more likely....I am just a partially regretful fool who really and very selfishly, enjoyed her weekend.
Oh, and the game? Basically someone hides the Snibbles and the other kids find them. You might be surprised how throughaly entertaining a few pieces of old cardboard can be.