06.09.2002 /00:28
Something surprising about me: when I was a kid I saw Song of Bernadette on tv and decided I wanted to be a nun. Never mind that we weren't Catholic. I knew what I wanted and that was that. In the movie she didn't even want to be a nun, she wanted to hang with the cutie-pie village boy, but she was pure and self-sacrificing and did what she must. Plus there was that kind of bitchy nun who was jealous of Bernadette's visions and was all "why do you, a simple village girl, get this great honor, while I, who have given everything, get zip?". Plus again there was Vincent Price as the main non-believer. Vincent frickin' Price!
So here I am, maybe eleven years old, with only a vague idea of Catholicism culled from movies like Song of Bernadette, The Sound of Music, and The Exorcist, suddenly fixating on "nun" as a possible career path. Sure, nuns didn't get to wear funky white sparkly fringed outfits like the backup singers for "Superstar" in Jesus Christ Superstar, but what they did wear was distinctive enough. This was before I ever heard of a nun wearing regular clothes.
Of course around the same time I saw Song of Bernadette I also saw Cabaret and decided if the nun thing didn't pan out my backup plan was to be a chanteuse in a smoky nightclub with divinely decadent green fingernails. I practiced singing "Money, Money" and "Maybe This Time" while wearing a t-shirt on my head to simulate a nun's wimple.
That the two roles might not be compatible never occured to me.
[comment on this /1]
+ listening to: Cabaret
+ feeling: my regular bout of insomnia coming on
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