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Fairy Tales, Schmairy Tales

This morning as my roommate groggily came out of the bathroom after her shower, she couldn’t help but to burst into giggles.  (Personally, I think she could have helped it…but whatever.)  I tried something new/old with my hair, and turned out looking like Goldilocks, the Shirley Temple years.  Remember those pink, spongy curlers?  Yeah, those.  I was bored last night and decided to see what they would do to my no-longer-8-year-old head of hair.  Result?  The same.  Curls up to my chin in perfectly formed whitish-gold ringlets that refuse to straighten out or loosen up.  I can’t go to work like this!  It was a hair mini-emergency that was solved by piling the curls on top of my head and hoping for the best.  It is now a few hours later and things have relaxed a little –I still look like Goldilocks, but perhaps the more-grow-up version of her.  No Shirley Temple look-a-like to be found…as long as my hair stays safely pinned into a curly-messy bun.

Did you watch the Miss American pageant last night?  Yes?  No?  Not a chance even if you paid me?  I only watched the last half hour; and I was talking on the phone for most of that time anyway (i.e. TV on mute, only half paying attention).  However, congrats to Miss Oklahoma-now-Miss America…your dress wasn’t the ugliest one I’ve seen, but it sure as hell wasn’t pretty.  One of the snippets of the pageant I caught at full volume was a clip from the interview segment.

Question: If you had to compare yourself to a fairy-tale, which would it be and why?

Miss Texas: Ummm… (insert high-pitched nervous giggle)…probably Cinderella…
Chuckling/Annoyed Judge:  Ya know, you are the 10^th person to say that!
Miss Texas: Really? (squealy giggle) Well, let me tell you why my story is different from those other people…

After which she proceeded to spout out the exact same answer as everyone else, possibly verbatim.  And who said these girls weren’t creative and original?  Cinderella? Are you serious?  Runner-up for Least Creative Fairy Tale was probably Beauty & the Beast…which is only slightly less predictable.

At any rate; the combination of the Goldilocks curls this morning and the semi-nauseating pageantry of last night has got me thinking about fairy tales.  If you had to pick a fairly tale to describe your life, or this last year, or this last week, or even today –which would it be and why?

For me, today is clearly a Goldilocks-and-the-Three-Bears kind of day, without the bears.  Even though that story is not technically a “fairy tale,” I think it’s more fable-like, but close enough for the analogy.  For this last week, and more-or-less life in general, I think my life is turning out more and more like Little Red Riding Hood, Part II.  What’s that you say?  You haven’t heard of Part II?  Well, Part II comes directly after Part I (the typical, Brothers Grimm version) and goes something like this:

A fairly stylish girl is wandering through the woods –with snacks, very important, and probably anti-bacterial hand sanitizer; she’s OCD like that –and is hijacked by a mangy, dirty wolf.  Luckily, Little Red learned that there are wolves in the forest in Part I, so she is prepared.  And when Mr. Mangy Wolf starts sweet-talking her, (manipulation in it’s most innocent-looking form) and offering to share the secrets of the woods, she promptly kicks him in the shins, attacks him with pepper-spray, and whacks him over the head with her basket of snacks.  Sure that he isn’t going anywhere, she continues merrily along her way.  Until she meets another wolf; same scenario, same result.  And then another wolf, and another, and another.  And after a while Little Red feels like the world is FULL of wolves; and one has ripped her dress, and one dragged her red cape through the mud, one wolf stole her snacks, and another chomped on her hand which now hurts like the dickens and will most definitely leave a bite-mark looking scar, and where is that Wood Cutter Guy anyway?  Isn’t he supposed to be around here somewhere?  Trouble is, when Little Red finally tracks down the Wood Cutter Guy, she is independent, suspicious of everyone and so accustomed to taking care of her own problems, she has a hard time allowing him to beat up some of those mangy wolves.

I can’t help it if I’m not the princess-in-the-tower-waiting-for-Prince Charming type.  I am not a damsel in distress.  And when those irritating and sometimes downright scary wolves come out of the woodwork my first instinct is to tackle them by myself.  And only after the fact do I mention their existence to the Wood Cutter Guy.  Perhaps there is a Little Red Riding Hood, Part III.  And perhaps Little Red allows the Wood Cutter Guy to do his job; the chopping-up of the wood and the wolves job.  And perhaps she will get a new cape, and that scar on her hand will fade a little, and after a while it will be Little Red and the Wood Cutter Guy walking hand-in-hand; him with an ax slung over his shoulder to scare away the wolves, and she with pepper-spray in her pocket, just in case they get too close.

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