After all that talk about growing the extra corner and the nuisance it is, I'm going to talk about something so 'out there' that I'll probably grow another corner just talking about it.
That's what I meant last week-
what if it's in my nature to just keep growing corners irrespective of the trouble each corner causes?
What if its my destiny?
What if God just forgot to put in the normalcy chip in my brain when he sent me down to earth?
Or even worse, what if he put in a 'Crazy' chip in there instead?
But I gotta stay true to the principles of this blog.
I gotta write about my feelings - no matter how mental they sound.
So far, I have dazzled the world with my brilliance.
Today, I shock it with my chutzpah.
I stun it with my audacity.
I wow it with my spunk.
I bewilder it with my sass.
Okay… not really.
But one of these days I really will.
Today I'm only saying stuff which has already been said before.
But I haven't said it before.
So I'm saying it now.
Pious Hippie style.
That implies there's a theory.
That's what the Pious Hippie magic is about isn't it?
Life described in a series of scintillating analogies and profound and penetrating theories.
It's more about corny jokes and colorful cartoons.
The theory is about Happily Ever Afters for girls.
It has three categories:
Cinderella always dreamt of prince charming.
Isn't it amazing how things turned out so well for her?!?
I mean she didn't even have to move a muscle.
The fairy Godmother just appeared out of nowhere, styled her clothes, got her transportation, chauffeur and everything, and sent her on her way.
And even after the ball, she really didn’t do much.
Even before she'd finished day-dreaming about the ball, the prince used all his money and all his might and went around town with her slipper and found her.
He found her.
And the shoe was placed on her foot.
She literally didn't move a muscle.
Not even to try on the shoe.
Poor Rapunzel had to let down her hair and haul the 70 odd kilogram prince up to meet him.
Assuming he had a healthy BMI and was at least 6 feet tall.
I calculated the prince's healthy weight from a reasonably assumed BMI.
I'm always precise about things where accuracy means nothing.
It's my special talent.
Anyway, Cinderella's prayers were answered.
And she lived happily ever after, which, from this moment on will be referred to as HEA (pronounced hay-ya), coz I'll be using it a lot.
Although if you're reading this, you probably don't need to know how it's pronounced.
Except if you want to show-off your brilliance to your friends.
Anyway, what happened with Cinderella is what happens with true believers.
True believers in l-uuhhhh-ve.
The Sleeping Beauties.
Now sleeping beauty- she was another deal all together.
She was quite random in my opinion.
She was barely like 15-16 years old and she fell asleep with the prick of the pin or something like that.
And she didn't do any of the dreaming or believing like our Cinderella.
I bet she hadn't even hit puberty.
And then, 100 years later she was awakened by this prince she didn't even know. And he asked her to marry him.
And she just said yes.
So you see, the similarity between Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty is that both didn't so much as lift their pinky fingers and both lived HEA.
The important difference, however, is I suspect, that Cinderella was probably a lot happier to see her prince.
She was probably more happy to get married.
She was living her childhood dream.
She was given everything she asked for.
Sleeping beauty was very … blah.
"I don't know the guy, but whatever, let's get married."
"I've missed like 100 years of the world around me, but whatever, let's get married before the ageing sets in."
"I don't really know what my dreams are, what I want with my life but whatever. I'll figure something out, let's just get married incase I fall asleep again."
Anyway, the point is that she gets her HEA.
Now we come to the most interesting variety.
A little bit of background here:
In the first version of this story, in about 1837, Goldilocks was actually an old woman.
For those who want a more graphic description:
Impudent; bad; foul-mouthed; ugly; dirty; a vagrant deserving of a stint in the House of Correction.
See who Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty are up against?
The House of Correction people.
Later though, in the 20th Century, she became a cute little blonde girl.
I'm guessing it was because the was scaring all the kids.
Now, for the purpose of this theory, she's quite revolutionary.
And here's why:
A) She has distinct preferences even in little things like her chair, her bed and her food.
Chances are she's going to be just as picky about her 'prince'.
If she's looking for one, that is.
B) She's done all the hard work in her story.
She's moved from chair to chair.
From bed to bed.
She's burnt her tongue on Papa bear's porridge.
She's putting in the footwork man.
She's not skiving.
She ain't gonna wait for some fairy Godmother or prince.
She's a liberated woman, man.
C) We don’t know her fate.
Does she meet a prince?
Does she get the elusive HEA?
Does she move in with the bears?
Does she get eaten by them?
Does she eat them?
Does she roam the woods in search of better porridges?
Does she buy her own little cottage in the neighborhood?
Does she become a real estate agent?
Does she turn lesbian?
The point is, she's just as well known as the other two ladies.
Actually that's not the point.
That's so far away from the point that I don't know why I said that.
As with all theories, these aren't mutually exhaustive categories. You can be a combination of two or more of them and you can evolve into one of them overtime. Also, the other caveat is that, this only pertains to single women.
I'm Goldilocks, if you haven't already guessed.
I wasn't always goldilocks.
I used to be a cinderella and I've done my time as the sleeping beauty in relationships.
But I've really come into my own as Goldilocks.
Not that I don’t believe in true l-uuuhhh-ve.
I'm pretty sure it exists.
I have friends who are Cinderellas.
And I have acquaintances who are sleeping beauties.
They're not my friends obviously- the sleeping beauties.
If they were my friends, I would have slapped them awake before they did something that stupid.
I'm beginning to check out the furniture for the first time.
I'm testing the porridge temperature.
I guess, I'm beginning to create my own little HEA- different from the conventional HEA.
It probably has some combination of cupcakes, meditation, yoga, trading foreign exchange, travelling, pasta and cows.
You spend a little time with cows and they grow on you.
Cows growing on you.
Funny mental image.
I would've drawn this out for you, but I'll die laughing while doing it.
Anyway, I think the conventional HEA is overrated.
No offense to the Cinderellas.
It's great for people who want it.
I've tried my hand at relationships.
And I've tried being single.
During my Cinderella phase, I hate to admit, but I used to day dream too.
I used to believe that 'there's someone out there for everyone'.
You can barf.
I almost did.
I thought I'd find him eventually.
But little by little, as God puts in the pieces of my life's jigsaw puzzle in, His designs are becoming clearer and clearer.
He hasn't made me for a conventional HEA.
He's made me self-sufficient.
That’s why He's made me the way I am.
That's why He's shown me the things I've seen.
That's why He's taught me the things I've learnt.
That's why He's given me the experiences I've had.
I feel like Samantha from SATC- without the promiscuity.
And without the financial success, at the moment.
I'll have to wait a few thousand years before I can afford a Birkin.
God's made me this way.
And he doesn't make mistakes apparently.
Ooh, there ain't no other way, baby, I was born this way
I'm on the right track, baby, I was born this way
Baby, I was born this way!
It's impossible not to get carried away with that song.
For the first time ever, I feel like I've seen everything there is to see. I've felt everything first hand:
Subconscious love for someone.
I've been through it all - one by one.
I've tasted the hot porridge and the cold one, tried the hard bed and the soft one, the big chair and the small one. I'm settling down on something that's right for ME.
The proof of the pudding, as if I needed any further confirmation, is that this fortune teller told me I'm not going to get married till I'm 35.
That effectively rules out the possibility of a conventional HEA.
Which begs the question- why in the world am I going to need a prince charming after I'm 35 years old?!? I'm going to have done pretty much all I'm ever going to need to get done by then- I'll be well on my way to my own version of the HEA.
Or I'll still be here, which is still closer to my HEA than the conventional version.
I have my neighbor's pet cow, who loves me.
More than she'll ever love them.
I'm Goldilocks man.
I make my own HEA.
High fives to all the other Goldilocks' out there.
And to all the Cinderellas.
I know the Sleeping Beauties haven't stuck around to get to the end of this post.
They hate me for calling them blah.
You call a rose a rose and the lily gets mad.
I know that last line made no sense.