the REAL endings:

dear prince charming: quit stealing my shoes you asshole. do you know how hard it is to find the perfect strappy stiletto? <3 cinderella

dear prince charming: just b/c you know basic cpr i'm supposed to marry you? sorry. i'm waiting for a REAL doctor. <3 snow white

hey aladdin: no i don't want to "ride your flying carpet". did you REALLY expect that line to work? go rub your magic lamp. <3 jasmine

dear prince charming: fuck long hair. rockin a twiggy cut. ran off w/my stylist. find another chick for your long hair fettish. <3 rapunzel

dear peter pan: "pixie dust"? really? try stripper dust. i'm not stupid you know. how bout you DON'T call when you grow up. <3 wendy

dear prince charming: 100 yrs? really? did you stop off for "just a few" or some shit? how bout you kiss my ass? <3 sleeping beauty    

the good, the bad, the ugly truth

the good: i am capable of feeling romantical type of emotions. it’s a shock to me too. didn’t think i could after all these years. thought that part has been properly cordoned off and sealed up. guess there was a breach in security. catherine zeda jones made it past the laser maze and stole the damn mask.
the bad: i found this out by becoming all schmoopy and attached to someone who not only didn’t return said feelings at the same level, he didn’t return ANY feeling. suck.
the ugly truth: several of my own worst self perceptions were confirmed during this learning experience. i was too chubby, not pretty enough, embarrassing to be seen out with, in general just all around not good enough. it was, very much, like re-enacting pretty woman including the no kissing clause, minus the bank and the happy ending. well, and minus the killer shopping spree. and minus the being beat by the lawyer friend. okay. fuck. it wasn’t like pretty woman at all except the fact that i was a last resort and he wouldn’t kiss me. there you go.

so. the result of this is more thinking that i am, in fact, very much right on one thing: some people aren’t made to be part of a couple. some people really are meant to be a party of one for whatever reason. i’m the party of one. i’ve tried to be a party of two, never really works out so well. ever. only twice was i really a part of something that could be called anything…once was 6 years ago when i was married (gag) and once was 5 years before that when i was “dating” my oldest sons dad (for a whole 4 months (three of which i was knocked up)). i’ve gone out on dates…even as recent as 3/2007 (not even kidding). i’ve had people i hang out with. but i’m just not meant to be a part of something. this last excursion around the bay was the first and ONLY time besides my marriage that someone stayed overnight two nights in a row. it’s the ONLY time that a boy has had his own toothbrush at my house. it’s the ONLY time EVER that i’ve woken up next to someone and been comfortable. but it didn’t work. there wasn’t anything to work really. i wasn’t wanted, just handy. whatever. i should know better by now. i suppose it’s like a rat in a cage: you have to keep checking the edges even though you never get out and the electrical shock never goes away. it is always a shock when i rediscover what i already knew. actually, i think the rats have a faster learning curve…