Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Erotic, erotic, get your hands off my macrobiotics (sung to the tune of Madonna's Erotica)

As a child I had few goals, like many girls I whizzed around in a world of fantasy preoccupied with my own reflection in the mirror and mastering the words to the latest pop hit...I never wanted to be a princess, I never wanted to marry prince charming, had no interest in being a sports woman, didn't much like babies, never had a cabbage patch doll, wasn't interested in baking pretty strawberry cakes and I tattooed my pretty in pink barbie - what I dreamt about most was not easily attainable, but some how back then it didn't seem too out of reach. What I wanted was...TO BE MADONNA!
Lace wrapped around my head and tied in a bow, bracelets up to my elbow and little off the shoulder numbers got me even closer to my goal.
I don't have an abundance of childhood memories but I often remember Madonnarised moments. Like the time I was at an adult party minding my own business, doing kid stuff like nagging mum to let me get back in the swimming pool or eyeing off the stale chips and lollies on the table, when suddenly something so powerful hit my senses that it made everything around me melt into the floor and there I was, left standing in my own little world with a pink satin strapless dress, diamonds and gloves up to there. When I awoke from the fantasy I realised that my uncle had Material Girl playing on his crappy little ghetto blaster. It took me another 3 or 4 songs to work up the courage to go and whisper in his ear "Can you please play that Madonna song again?"
That was over 20 years ago, I don't really remember if he ever did play the song again but I know it definitely wasn't the last time I heard it.
Like the rest of the world, I followed Madonna whereever she went. I video taped her, I practised her on stage dance routines and I memorized words, poses and gestures. I even went around telling people that my middle name was Madonna - Deanne Maree Madonna.
Going to a catholic high school we had to choose a confirmation name. I knew in my heart that I should take my Nanna's name but I so furiously wanted to be Deanne Maree Madonna. That was almost the last straw. My disregard for most things church related these days has probably got alot to do with that naming debacle, now that I come to think of it.
It wasn't until 1993 that I actually got to see her in the flesh. Mum got us tickets to see Madonna live in Brisbane and we stood nice and close in the pouring rain with black garbage bags on our heads. By that stage I was 16 and it had pretty much hit me that I was never going TO BE MADONNA. I am not going to say I lost interest but my passion certainly died. I kept up with Madonna's achievements over the years, loved every one of her albums and felt her influence in various ways.
It won't be long now and Madonna will be whipping the audience in Tokyo, the final leg of her Confessions tour. I have loved her latest album over and over again and have seriously thought about seeing her once more...alas it just can't be on the top of the list.
So I have decided to have one more stab at being Madonna. Except this time there are no dance routines, I won't be wearing satin and there is definitely nothing erotic about this.

Just like Madonna, I have my own personal macrobiotic chef. The way I see it, the only difference is my meals are delivered to my door in a dirty cardboard box and Madonna's are freshly prepared for her 24/7 in an oversized gourmet kitchen.

This was tonight's dinner...as I sat there chewing each tiny mouth full 368 times a strange feeling from the past swirled around. It was the feeling of having a greater power watch over me. As a child it was my mum saying to me, "Oh don't be so bloody stupid, you are not going to spew if you eat one more bean. Now just shut up and eat it or I will flog the living daylights out of you!" (This makes me laugh hysterically as I write it, most people would be scarred from such childhood experiences) Except tonight it was not my mum powering over me, it was my own conscience screaming "Oh come on, this is not going to kill you, in fact according to the broucher it's going to make you live longer, so just bloody well eat it all or I will flog the living daylights out of you!"

Lucky for me I like a non meat vegie kind of meal, but this gives new meaning to health food. None of the artificial scrumptiousness we can often become accustomed to.
The macrobiotic diet was further developed by a Japanese philosopher, and if premium health and convenience food is what you are after, or if you simply want your own personal chef like Madonna and I, check this out for more info and try here for the home delivery service.


Blogger miotto + brown said...

you're crackers!! (macribiotic crackers that is).

6/7/06 2:41 PM  

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