Iwas bored. Winter Break has a magical way of sounding like a great idea. After finals, I rejoice that I now have time to catch up on my studies of classic literature (e.g., reading the entire Harry Potter series for the fourth time), learn how to oil pant, and basically just spend the time wondering why I'm so awesome. But all of that dreaming turns out to be more of a delusion. The five weeks turn into more of a test in laziness rather than artistic genius. I was in desperate need of adventure. Which is precisely why I leapt at the chance to go to Santa Cruz's own annual Fungus Fair. First thing's first, I had to get prepared. "Eye of the Tiger" roared from my speakers while I transformed myself into a toadstool-loving, alternative-medicine-using bundle of awesome. A patchwork vintage (i.e., Nordstrom I-paid-way-too-much-for-this-too-look-this-shabby-but-it-looks-good) T-shirt and my "comfortable" jeans did the trick. I soared out the door, ready to embrace my new world. Before the door slammed behind me, I heard my dad shout, "Make sure you bring home some jock itch!" Needless to say, I didn't appreciate his tone. It was a quick leap to the festival. Instantaneously, I knew I was among my peeps. After attending a lovely lecture on the staggering medicinal qualities of certain phyla of mushrooms (I'm pretty convinced that Reishi mushrooms are God's gift to man), I wondered over to the "Craft Kingdom." Alas! My tortured creative soul was finally able to emerge from the gloomy cave of my heart. I glared at the coloring table. No, too wussy. I was in need of the PCP of crafts: clay. Nothing is more hardcore than clay. Shoving my way through the ocean of children, waiting in vain to prove to their moms that they are creative prodigies, I found my seat. Granted, it was a tiny blue children's chair only a foot off the ground, but I figured I could use the anguish in my art. I looked around at my competition. Ha! It was a sorry excuse for clay mushrooms. A little girl next to me was making a small lopsided mushroom of the Amanita persuasion. The boys behind her were simply arguing over which mushroom was going to be bigger, apparently an argument that never dies. I was ready to start my creation. I didn't make just one mushroom out of clay, my friend! I made a whole mushroom forest! That's right, a forest. Complete with a gnome. Who actually looked more like a wizard than a gnome, but he was still big pimping. His name was Rupert, although I had a feeling he wanted to be a Dumbledore, but we can't all be winners; it's just a shame that he had to learn that at such an early age. When my friends tore me from my new family, I regrettably had to accept that my day at the Fungus Fair was over. A la Charlie Brown, I trudged back home, my dad greeting me. "Bring home any athlete's foot?"
- Melissa Johnson is an advertising senior who puts the 'fun' back in fungus.
- This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of The Daily Aztec.
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