Remember the old days when we laughed at Chanta's delusion that she could ever climb Mt. Everest. Of course very few of us can dedicate the time to train to climb Mt. Everest though many dream of doing such a fantastic thing. But the very notion that Chantal actually on some level, even for a moment, thought she could waddle alongside a sherpa for ten minutes was hilarious. Her self-delusion was almost charming. There was no way she could ever make it to Nepal.
Then we mocked her for thinking she could cram herself on a plane and go to the Dominican Republic. She spoke of wanting a private room because she felt a stroll along the beach meant she'd be crawling with dark fellows who would want to fuck her on first sight. We lol-ed almost in unison at the idea of Chantal on a flight from Canada to the Caribbean, her enormous body heaving along the sand, collapsing into a coronary after 100 feet of free-walking and thinking the emergency personal summoned to take her to the ER were totally wanted her. There was no way she could ever last such a long plane ride, let alone find a man to fuck, but it seemed a more attainable than Everest.
The next point of mockery was EuroBeeze, wherein Chantal was convinced she would become a world traveler, jaunting from one European locale to the next, eating pate and pasta and Belgian chocolate and maybe a croissant or two, bedding down hot backpackers and gap-year travelers, modeling chic fat clothing and thrilling us all with her ability to navigate foreign countries by babbling Quebecois at Spaniards while driving onto their sidewalks in rage when could not find the closest Starbucks or McDonalds. There was no way she could last the flight to get to Europe, fit into rentals, drive without killing many locals or fit into a single bathroom outside of the UK or the fatter parts of Germany but since she herself didn't mention walking around much, at least it seemed like she was coming closer to realizing that she's likely never going to have the stamina to cross into the USA and eat another juicy wiener, let alone sip espresso in France, let alone harass impoverished Dominican and Nepalese men.
Now we're mocking her for thinking she has what it takes to drive a car to multiple location to deliver weed. Even this much diminished fantasy - working part time as a driver - is far beyond her capacities to cope. No more dreams of conquering mountains high, seducing tropical men or swanning about the Netherlands in search of some dank weed, she's now dreaming of a feat that requires nothing more than the capacity to drive sober without running over curbs every few minutes, the ability to wake up at specific times, and, presumably, the will to shower, yet it is now as impossible as climbing to the top of Everest. Her dreams have become so much smaller as her body expands. It would be sad were it not deserved and so very fucking funny.
Seriously, dream big, Chantal. I cannot wait to see what adventures awaits her next year!