Of pink gowns and white heals………….. Princesses and Princes.

So Ralph Maccchio did get left in the past and  I stopped reading Snow white and the seven dwarfs, the princess and the frog. You know, those stories that get little girls all girly and dreamy about what may or may not happen in their futures? Those books. I can still see me thinking of pink and white ball gowns. Shute! How gullible! But lets jus be honest, that is **&^%$@% me talking…………………

I have a diary in my  mind. And today I opened a page or two into early teenage. I am tickled by what I remember.

Age: Thirteen years old going on to fourteen.Was a very smart girl at the time by the way. Yes, you wonder what happened right? Watch it, I am only talking to me. Ok no more diversions, let’s go back to thirteen years going on to fourteen. Now ladies and gentlemen, this is where it gets a bit creepy. See that pink gown i was telling you about? I had it. Yes I did. And relax it wasnt for balls, it was just an item I told mummy dearest I needed badly and she decided to be sweet to me. So yes that gown I had. All lace, long and beautiful. Bringing out the best in a thirteen year old. Heheheheheh take a wild guess what that would be? Nothing. What with sprouting (yes I am gonna refer to them that way) boobies that were fulltime painful, hair that just couldn’t be managed (mama said I am too young to get my hair processed) because it was too kinky, and a shy nature that would defy the angel of shyness – wait a minute …………….. Is there  such an angel and is there a word like that anyway? Moving on swiftly, that was my timid thirteen years……….. 

……………….. Oh and prince charming walked right out of my books and into my life. He was three years older than I, had the most lovely smile, was just a thirteen year olds’ perfect crush. I was struck. Cupid did not care to gently shoot his arrow into my heart, but chose to bombard me with it. For the next six years or so this boy remained my constant star. Don’t worry, there was lots of happenings in between. Note I said constant star, I did not say, sworn true love. But trust me when I say prince charming walking into my life that august many years ago, i mean it. He smiled and I nearly died, looked into my eyes and my knees turned into jelly. Very funny, but typical of early teenage. All sweaty and stuttering. Seriously what do you expect of a girl who knew all the fairly tales from early childhood?( Darling i had to play my part).  Amazing thing is I still remember that day because that dress I owned courtesy of mummy sweetest was what I was wearing. Need I say the boy being a teenager and with all his hormones raging like hells fires fell in love instantly?

Fashion being what it has become, goodness knows I would never be caught wearing an item similar to what I was in that day. But again that dress did bring someone I still hold dear in my life. Well things have changed, and though prince charming went on to become someone else’s prince – hold it right there, do you seriously think I have a shred of regret? Ridiculous. Shoot that thought. Anyway, what I was saying before I got rudely interrupted by sniffles here and there is, the dress did get me my prince charming. Oh you want to argue that maybe he liked my smile? No problem he did, he also liked my little girls laugh (if you like) and the saucers on my chest i used to call breasts. Just peachy! But I was not a woman, see? No confidence, no skills, not grown, nothing. Jus a diamond in the rough…….. Naturally I have come a long way. From a girl who stuttered every second I saw him to one who would hold a conversation with the Pope and get by without a hitch. Why am I braging? Ok I will cut the crap.

Today I remembered my diary, and how much I posted in it. I held endless conversations with it. Told my dear diary about the kiss I got on my hand, forehead. Beautiful memories. And I did mention to dear diary of the pain I was feeling when he started noticing more beautiful gowns than my lovely pink gown. The tears that dried on those pages, oh the heartache, the what did I dos? Need I say now that there is no way in this lifetime I would consider him  prince charming? Not because there’s something wrong with him but because over the years he suddenly became more of an elder brother. Need I say more?……………

Dear diary I so miss thee. Where thou art?

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Santa this is my wish…………..

Dear Santa,

I only have one wish today……………… If you could please please please grant it to me before christmas……………………. Do something about blubber mouths, gossips, rumour spreaders.

I find it hard to understand why people spend days on end talking about others. Its hard. Really hard to understand. But before i talk too much i think its only fair if I would give you my definition of  gossip and rumours. But rather than give you the dictionary definition, why don’t we just explore my view? Rumours in my opinion is stories about people which I create in my mind and start spreading without a care of how they will feel about it, proof or basis.   Gossip in my view is a force tale I just pass on for the sake of hurting someone through mocking, dark stares or just plain laughter at the expense of someones feelings. Well I would like a few more definitions. So, if you will please.

Anyway, my problem with gossips and rumour spreaders is the fact that these are people who have the potential to kill just by their tongues. Well I have a fabulous idea Miss/Mr gossip, how about killing the vibe and walking up to your potential victim, looking them in the eye and asking them for the information you need, before you can start talking? Yes I know I sound kind of mad. I wonder how I can avoid being angry when I have been a victim? Don’t get me wrong, I am not gun tooting just because someone decided to give people a few juicy stories about me. No! I wish the stories came from me.  But good thing is the knowledge that he who starts a rumour would pee their pants before they can say a thing to you once confronted. So this is my advice to those two: Mr and Miss Gossip, your kids and anyone else who you have infected with this terrible illness, save your breath, because you will die waiting to see the death of your victim. You will talk all day, and achieve nothing out of it. Try praying, playing or simply taping your mouth shut if you must speak. Jesus help you.

In the meantime Mr/Miss smarty pants I am sending santa my request. Santa don’t forget this christmas…………. Seal their mouths, give them massive brain tumours, haemorrhages, or simply heart attacks as they try to put someones spirit down. Santa dear, do not forget please. I promise to be a good little girl just so you can grant me my hearts wish. Oh please don’t fret my dearie, if you have been spreading some nasty rumours, well Santa’s giving you a little visit. Need to learn to shut your mouths Mr and Miss Perfect, because no one is perfect. In short my sweets, ZEEP IT.