(Continued from Part I http://kolika.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-cinderella-story.html)
Now peace, Achilles, that’s something none of us have been getting too much of, lately. I look at the Tortoise and Maddy Mud, they get along so well in spite of the fact that Maddy Mud had always craved you. You were patient with her. Very patient with poor Muddy which she didn’t really get elsewhere. But then she find of fell in place smoothly as Tortoise came in, she in fact promoted our liaison remember? She must have had her reasons.
Now at getting us together…Eeyore was smart, Eastern brain again. Royal Bengal he’d proudly say… close to where Grand-Daddy Santa is from, originally. A few more degrees of this global warming and I tell you, all that will be added to Dad’s Under the Sea kingdom. Whoever is left here on the high western edge of the world, we’re all gonna melt like Ginger-Boy’s buttons—some tacky, some dry, some flaky and some will dry clear like ModPodge glue on hardwood floors. Yeah I dread that.
But what I am dreading most is the territory fight with Nemo. They never really liked us there, only if Dad realized…but he wont budge. Says the Dead Sea minerals are good for his beard, so he wont put up a fight or move away from Sea Aussie… neither will his Aqua-BarbieGirl humming Little Mermaid princess… giggly little pink pest! That’s what she is.
Eeyore hates her too. See you have to understand Eeyore, he has a thing against the happy ones, the nice ones, the perceived nice ones rather. That’s why he likes me. That’s why he got us together Achilles, I think, so I could bring the nice you to an end or at least your niceness. He doesn’t say a word, but I think he has known all along… that I like to be involved with the bests, the biggests and the firsts. And you were all of that and still are. You are also the fastest. You have been here since before Eve dumped Adam. You have been solving paradoxes and running marathons on South Park roads for longer than I can remember. You, beautiful mind, Achilles; you old, fossilized, rusted, Greek horseshoe, if you’re not beautiful who is? And your speed, Achilles, Godspeed! You know I am impatient, I love it speedy and I love speed. I have always believed good things come to those who wait and better to those who don’t. And you Achilles never gave me the chance to wait. That always gives me a high. Speed. My nickname for myself, “I” you know where that came from? It’s an initial for Impatience. Now you know Impatience is not my middle name, it is my name; it is what I call myself.
For tens of years, hundreds of languages for thousands of pages, you’ve been galloping down on white horses and carrying me away to Happily Ever After land. What the languages in all those pages fail to mention is that, after we argue about some subtle changes in the honeymoon plan, we split. You graciously drop me off, I nod a brief thank you and off we are to each of our worlds. And that is how happily we live. Happily not peacefully. Peace, Achilles is not something you and I have a lot of, do we?
You can answer that, I wont bark. I would even grant you the liberty to answer that wrong. But you wont dare even in your starched frilled dreams, I know. You for one wont be mis/taken by a promise of subtlety from me. You know me too well. Correction: you can predict me very well. There is really not much to know about me, not much to me, Achilles. As Maddy Muddy says after popping her nightly dose, I am just a figment of her convoluted neurons, I am her escape from an abandoned, immigrant childhood. I am the someone she has always wanted to be. I am her persona-mate. I am her persona. I am her disease and her cure. I am the one who’s with the one she always wanted to be with, that someone is you…someone who I can smack, slay, sack, put down, look down, shoot down any time I like, that someone who is indefinitely defeated when faced with her man, the Tortoise.
Achilles I am my sister’s dead, defeated soul’s blown-up shadow. I am her power and her defense, her turret window- fire escape.
I am not your regular Cinderella, Achilles.
I am not bound by time. It is always midnight, somewhere on earth. And you or anyone else would never come galloping the next day if I left my shoes at yours. In fact I have never owned glass slippers. The only ones I ever saw were my mother’s red ones. My mother stole them from some girl from Kansas and had spun a story about how she had to be taken away in a hot-air-balloon from Oz to Wonderland with handcuffs on. Not that I believed any of that… It was the Cheshire Cat. History buffs might want to pet him on skimmed milk but his anecdotes are just hideous sleaze to me. He comes along, grinning, like he’s seen me naked and expects me to be as nice with him as Alice… Well, that’s not happening kitty cat, this is not your regular Wonderland and I am not your regular Cinderella.
I don’t cook and clean for anyone. Not even myself. Eeyore takes care of that for me. and you too sometimes Achilles, ah when you call me princess and wish to see me dressed in pink lace, Achilles!… you disgust me. I feel like throwing my obese step-sister at you, squishing you under her cellulite affected warped brain. But that might not bother you that much and that parchment of sanity and calm on your face ends up riling me sometimes. You Achilles are an obscurity, an enigma that I don’t quite get, nor do I get why ‘I’ am ‘we’ with ‘you’.
(to be continued…)
For Part III go to http://kolika.blogspot.com/2009/06/my-cinderella-story-part-3.html