Yesterday's flight of fantasy veered from blaming society that I couldn't dress up and play Diva, to admitting I want Cher's wardrobe and performance itinerary, to trying out a dinky little number on someone I quite resemble and choking on my cuppa. Its been a rollercoaster.
Right now I sympathise with Hattie Jacques in that movie where she let her inner self out every time the music played and wafted around the room wanting to be an exotic butterfly - knowingly capitalising on the comedy of a large woman wanting to be something floaty and ethereal. Carry On Teacher?
How many times a day/week/month do you let your inner child dream, until your inner parent makes you look in a cold mirror and tells you you must be joking? How often do you let that make you cringe or feel stupid?
How often do you suddenly understand what the ugly duckling must have felt like, incredibly lonely and foolish and apologising for not being the right shape/size/colour? Sadly for us humans, if you were ever going to be a swan generally you've been there and done that by now - the fairy story works backwards for us.
Next time I feel that little ugly duckling rear his head and suggest hiding in the bullrushes until I'm more 'acceptable'................... I'm going to ring his rotten little neck.
7 comments:
Maybe we could turn him into something tasty. And speaking of ducks, have a look at my first indie virus link!
Your second!
I have - love Purple Dragon anyway.
:-)
If your inner self tries to tell you "you must be joking" when you look in a mirror then throw your shoulders back, laugh at the morose swine and tell her/him to go jump in a lake!
I'm never going to be anything like a swan but if I can manage a hawk of some kind I'd be happy with that. Thinking about it I'd settle for a raven, too!
I've had that name - Raven. Good birds!
LOL, as the saying goes Beauty is in the eye of the Beer holder. Ugly ducklings have more fun than the full grown swan anyway. More people coo over sygnets than their parents lol. BTW here from Michele's today.
Ah, Cheryl, my pre-menopausal self wants to dress up as a punk and dance all night, but it isn't going to happen. Your blog is making me pine and I might not be able to read any more ;) I'd love to know what you tried on :D
I hope my inner parent dies of bird flu.
Oh,I see. Joyce tried it on for you. I know how you feel :)
Post a Comment