The Giver-Of-My-Life and I went to the state fair earlier this week. I actually used some vacation time and cut out of work early. The amount I'm hating that place is better suited for a blog post in its own, though.
Anyway, the Wheel Mobile or Wheel Watchers van or whatever it's called was at the fair for two days. I attribute much of my successes in English classes to Wheel of Fortune thanks to my mom watching it all the time while I was growing up. I really liked the show and have always felt a sense of badass accomplishment when I was able to solve the puzzle on my own and before the people on TV.
For the two days the truck was in town with it's traveling auditions crew, there were six sessions, three per day, where attendees could enter to be selected to go on stage. This is essentially part one of a multi-part audition for the actual show. Even if your name wasn't called to go up on stage, your entry card would still be considered for an audition within the next few months. As soon as a name is called, that person's audition begins, and everything is recorded.
My mom and I arrived to the fair around 4 pm, an hour early for the 5 pm Wheel of Fortune show, and with plenty of time to watch the motocross show (which was AMAZING by the way... who knew three motocross guys could capture my attention for that long). I have no delusions about my anxiety that I take a multitude of measures to conquer on a daily basis, one of them being medication. I'm fairly open with this, as I believe my openness about it not only helps me deal with it, but might help others in the process. My mother is one of the people that should be medicated, but isn't. (I'm getting to why this is relevant, I promise).
Knowing my mom was more excited about auditioning to be on Wheel of Fortune than I was, and she'd clearly wanted it more, I decided to take my entry card and fill it in with her information. I wrote down her name, address, email, and all other pertinent contact information, on the card before reaching the bottom section which instructed the applicant to note their hobbies, what they like to do in their free time, and interesting facts about themselves. I know my mother very well, and knew without a doubt once she got to that section she would turn to me and say, " I don't know what's interesting about me. What should I put? I don't know what to write."
Sure enough, that's exactly what happened. I responded telling her to just be honest and write her favorite pastimes. Also knowing my mother as well as I do, I knew this would consist of "scrapbooking and spending time with my family"... aka the most generic and widely used response of all time. To spice things up, I decided I'd make her entry slightly more exciting.
"I'm addicted to Candy Crush, mostly. I'm going to rehab for it, so it's not a huge problem anymore... but I still have urges."
Once our entries were dropped in the box, I spilled the beans and let my mom know I'd added one for her as well. "You jerk! Why did you do that?! What if they call me twice?!"
Can you see where the anxiety comes from? This woman was so excited to go to this audition, then nearly had a breakdown when her chances were doubled.
The entire show we sat there waiting for her name to be called... which was actually more like we spent 45 minutes of my mother panicking about having to go up onstage... or being disqualified for her name in twice. Insert eye-rolling here.
While we're watching other potential contestants, an Indian woman (with a very, very thick accent) was called to the stage. Her excitement wasn't matched by anyone. She didn't even wait for the host to ask her any questions, she just jumped right in and rattled off loads of facts about herself. I learned that she likes to spend time with her family just like the fifty other mothers that applied, she likes gardening and spending time outside and she does a lot of cocaine.
Well, she actually does a lot of cooking, but my mother immediately leaned over and asked, "Did she just say she does a lot of cocaine??"
Yes, mom. She openly admits to doing a lot of cocaine in public while being filmed for a nationally broadcast game show.
I guess the assumption wasn't that far off base, I mean, we WERE at the state fair, in the heart of the city, where there are a lot of drug-related police reports filed.
Bottom line: My mother needs to be medicated to calm her shit, and not with cocaine.
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