The Accidental Evasion of the Real World

Lately, I have been plotting. This is one of my favourite things to do. I write lists and I make ENORMOUS plans. Following through is this whole other thing that I haven’t quite mastered but in the meantime, you guys should know that I make the most excellent plans.

My various plots have taken on some urgency recently because at the end of this year, I become a graduate and I enter this alternate universe that I’ve heard people whispering about: a mythical “Real World.” I don’t know entirely what this means. I remember being told that I would be a part of it when I left primary school, then warned again when I left high school. I can only assume my invite got lost in the mail because I’m apparently still not there.

There has, unfortunately, been some trouble with one rebellious Real World plan. I tried to make all the part-plans equal a full-plan and then I realised this amounted to me attempting maths and I became frightened. Why does maths even exist? I bet people in the Real World don’t use maths. The plan seemed so simple: I begin with no monies, then I get some monies, then I spend my monies on a ride on a jetplane to the Real World. I tried to put it all together, part one got added to part two, but for some unknown reason I was not embarking on part three. My brain pickled and I think something popped. I wanted to go to the Real World so very badly, where you could be whatever you wanted to be. I imagined you flew there on a jetplane that thought it was David Bowie and sometimes the clouds ate each other.


Then it dawned on me. I needed to actually find the monies before I could spend the monies and this would require some more planning. I struggled quite a lot in the beginning and then the ideas started forming and jostling for attention. Of course I had to dismiss the first few because they were just silly. No one MAKES monies, I said to them, go away. Eventually, I narrowed down the field to three plans so amazing I couldn’t believe they had eluded me for so long.

PLAN UNO: Dig Holes. Find Monies.


The first plan, while brilliant, was slightly flawed. I reached about day seventeen before total mania set in. I can’t be certain exactly what day it was because I lost consciousness before the digging finished. When I awoke, I had dug myself into a corner (of sorts) and was forced to evacuate to China.

Things learned: It is possible to breach the walls of both sanity and insanity.

PLAN DOS: Find Leprechauns. Find Monies.


I really thought this was the one that would work. I got myself a butterfly net and waited at the window for a rainbow to appear. I was just settling into a comfortable position when a lady went past me with a leprechaun in a pram. I didn’t understand, but I wasn’t about to question this gift from fate. I ran down the street, beat the lady with the end of my butterfly net and triumphantly claimed my leprechaun. As I was running away with it under my arm, it started crying and dribbling. I made the mistake of pausing to try and make it stop, and when I loosened my grip its little leprechaun paws sneaked out of its constraints. Before I could do anything to protect myself, it giggled and touched me with its sticky little hand. Unable to take anymore, I abandoned it on the side of the road and ran home. Plan two had failed.

Things learned: Leprechauns are wily and should be approached with caution.

PLAN TRES: Touch Bums. Find Wallets. Find Monies.


With just one plan left, I was getting desperate. I forgot to plan for my plan and when a bum next walked past me, I rashly reached out to touch it forgetting that it was attached to a human. The human got rather angry that I was molesting him and when I tried to explain I had only been looking for monies, his face turned into a plum. Having no desire to see what happened when a head became a plum, I ran away and cried because after so much planning and a perfect execution, I still had no monies. How would I ever get on the David Bowie aeroplane?

Important lesson learned: other people’s monies not also, logically, ergo my monies. And bums aren’t just there for touching.

Alas, I still have not found any monies. I don’t know if they will let me into the Real World without them but I’m going to draft a letter asking for an extension. Hopefully one day the Real World will let me join and I’ll hand over my monies for admission but, if I’m quite honest, I don’t know if it’s all it’s cracked up to be with a price so high.

Love Claire x

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About jumping tangents

jumping tangents is a very awesome (it's true, we are) online gift shop that specialises in infusing the everyday with more intrigue, surprise and delight! we love giving the best gifts in the world; we love getting the best gifts in the world; and we like helping other people give the best gifts in the world. all of us here (and that includes you, our friend!) are the best gifters in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD. this blog is just one of our gifts to you. another is our website, www.jumpingtangents.co.nz. give us some love in the form of comments or emails and you will have our hearts forever. love cathie, diane, claire, kimberley and the jt team xxx
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2 Responses to The Accidental Evasion of the Real World

  1. cathietherese says:

    Claire this is hilarious both the writing and the cartoons I have no doubt you wil catch lots of david bowie planes creating wonders like this blog. Joseph Campbell would be proud of you as youarecertainly on your own path. Xo

  2. Deb says:

    I live in the real world, and have been attempting to get to yours. I too have similar issues – I fear now I am here I will never leave ;-P

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