*Disclaimer: In no way am I affiliated with He's Just Not That Into You. I mean really. If you were dumb enough to think I was...you're probably gullible enough to believe I own a piece of Jupiter, too. In reality, the truth is that I don't. Actually, it's the moon. ;)
I've decided that it's going to be fun to use this account to explore different fandoms - to branch out. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this. If you alert/favorite, I'm going to hope that you review. Alerts and favorites are indications of liking my work. Spare me a line if you enjoy? Thanks everyone.
When you're a little kid, and I do mean little, you're taught some pretty basic principles. Finger painting your walls is a no-no. Not eating your dinner means no ice cream for dessert. Brushing your teeth is mandatory, not optional. There is a reason for making your bed in the morning; it's just that no one knows what it is. These are all things you learn from older, wiser folks you generally refer to as mommy and daddy.
And then there are the things you're not taught - the things you simply do not understand. Most little kids can't help but question these things. Why aren't you allowed to ask fat ladies how much they weigh? Why is it okay for daddy to say no-no words? Why does Timothy Anderson pick on me, and why are you smiling?
As little kids with incurably curious minds, we are left to make of the world what we will. We daydream about shooting off into space. We picture alternate versions of ourselves - as ballerinas, dancers, singers, actresses. We dream of fancy weddings, strongkindhandsome princes, and prosperous lives. When you're five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, you don't realize that Disney's happy endings are digitalized make-believe. Pretend. Trite. Over-rated. You simply smile and say, "Again! Again! Please, mommy!?"
It's our ideal. It's our dream. There are no little girls in the world who don't want to be Princesses. All of them, any little girl, wants to ride off with her white knight, basking in the horizon.
Personally, I think the Disney executives should be sued for a sizable amount of money. Every shattered girl deserves a dollar for the heartache Disney set us up for. As children we were taught that dreams come true if you just believe. Well. I believed. And look at me now.
I keep putting myself out there. I keep doing all of the wrong things. Babbling too much. Asking all the wrong questions. Moving too fast. I've purchased every self-help guide I could lay my eyes on, and nothing has helped cure my awkward tendencies. Snatching a great guy has proven too hard for Hopeless Gigi. And keeping a guy has proved even harder.
Maybe I'm not meant to have what my heroines - Cinderella, Snow White, Rapunzel, Briar Rose - got. Maybe I'm simply doomed to an eternity alone. Or maybe I'm simply feeling sorry for myself. Surely there's someone out there for Gigi. Someone who can wash away my insecurities. Someone who will realize that I'm not confident or sultry. That I'm just Gigi. Awkward and jittery.
I guess, in some ways at least, life is like a fairy tale. Everyone gets the 'once upon a time'.
But not everyone gets the happily ever after.
It's sad, it's morbid, and I hate admitting it, but maybe that's the real truth right there. Maybe some of us are simply doomed. We're not meant for love. We're destined for nine cats and heart problems. There's no such thing as The One. There's no such thing as and then they all lived happily ever after.
There's simply once upon a time and