Close your eyes and imagine you've ship wrecked on a island. There are waves, sun, gawky seagulls, sand, and seaweed. Imagination or not, the ship has run up on some rocks you can't see because they're under the water and you have to swim-slash-wade through the shark infested tide to the shell infested shore. It's not pretty and at this point neither are you.
The game says you can pick five items to help you survive. "Only five", you say! Most dudes you ask will include matches, a trap, some kind of tool, etc.. There are many versions to this game and surviving on the deserted island has never been a part of mine. My imagination goes quickly to the rescue and how I'll look when that Navy ship sends a vessel of it's best looking sailors to save me from my doomed life of loneliness and sugar free coconut lattes.
My five items represent a whole different kind of survival.
The first of my five objects is a worn pair of blue jeans. They fit well, hug my booty with perfection, and are just dark enough to give that slimming affect at any angle. I can dig clams, shimmy palm trees, and jump up and down when I see a dinghy on the horizon. Whether torn, worn, or frayed, these blue jeans won't betray my Cosmopolitan ego or my need to protect my gams from crabs, bugs, or creepy volleyball heads.
Item number 2: My deep orange Pashmina. It was gift that brings out the green in my eyes. I wouldn't think of being rescued without it. The mere brightness of it's hue would signal rescuers from across the sea while also shielding my delicate skin from the glaring island sun, crabs, and the crisp starry night. This stunning orange wrap could also be used as a fishing net - if for some unsightly reason I was stranded for more than a week. Which, by the way, is the longest I've ever gone without food. Eight days tops and that's considering I have lemon juice, cayenne pepper, and maple syrup. You might have heard of the Lemonade Cleanse, or as I like to think of it; Preparation for Deserted Island Scenario.
Number three is very near and dear to my heart. And my lips. Cherry chap stick can be found in two out of three purse pockets, my night stand drawer, the worn blue jeans' left pocket, every room in my home, and work place. I do not go ANYWHERE without it. And that especially includes a deserted island. The sun is harsh and these lips are moist and if I were to ever meet a crab without it, he'd be sorry. Scarlett O'Hara was quoted in Gone with the Wind as saying, "As God is my witness.... If I have to lie, steal, cheat or kill. As God is my witness, I'll never be hungry again." My personal Tara story ends with, "As God as my witness... I'll never have chapped lips again." This is not the moment in which you pass judgement, it is the moment in which you say, "Amen."
My fourth possession is a silver cherub pendant. I hardly leave home without it. It hangs around my neck in glamour, in tradition, and as a promise. It's my personal rainbow. I believe the first thing Noah did on dry land was have a rainbow tattooed on his shoulder to remind him of God's promise that he would never destroy the world again with a flood (fitting, considering I'm stranded on an island surrounded by water). My silver cherub is not a tattoo, but reminds me just the same that God will take care of me. Deserted island, vicious crabs, or not I find much comfort in God's promises.
Last, but not least, are my white strips - Five Minutes to a Brighter Smile! I could be dressed in rags, sun burned from head to toe, worn blue jeans soaked in salt water, and angry crabs hanging from each lobe, but if I maintain a smile whiter than the sun these pearly whites could signal a ship of hot sailors from 6000 miles away. "I am ready to be rescued and pose for Cover Girl!"
Just because your five items don't include ice skates for a potential root canal, a palm frawn hammock, or a human hair crab net doesn't mean you'll never be rescued. It just means you'll have much less explaining to do.
Go ahead. Figure out your five items. Everyone should think it through once. It's all about being prepared. For anything. (wink squid ink)