Madam-hood?

It's getting sad these days. Well not sad as in sad but sad as in another type of sad. I hit the shops and get sad. I go to fill my car with fuel, and it gets sad. I go to a pharmacy I've never been to, and it gets sad. I try a pair of brand new shoes with a take-me tag on and I get sad. Then I go to work and get happy. One big difference. At school I am Miss-ed. Otherwise I am Madam-ed. Can you believe it, me a Madam? People are actually having the audacity to call me Madam? I'm no madam. I'm not that old surely? How arrogant and downright rude. Who the fuck do they think they are, who the fuck have them the permission to Madam me? No thank you. Just a Miss will do very nicely. After all I do not yet know the big world of Mrs-hood. So I should rightly be called a Miss. Although when I translate that to my native Maltese I cannot help but laugh. Sinjorina. Oh God that's so funny. I fit into none of the two categories of sinjorina, it evokes the image of a sweet 16 year old girl.... or a young man who walks, talks, eats, flicks his hair effeminately. A very messed up ex-colleague of mine once actually said I looked very gay, (as in male gay), because I behaved like a woman. Ermmm, I think that's quite obvious. So I am a gay man in the body of a woman. That sounds ever more desperate. I don't know who is the crankier of us two. But I had one good laugh, plenty of laughs with this colleague. Strangely enough. Perhaps it's the more eccentric people which make it easier to get on with life. People who remember me, the me of three years ago would right me down as the best world's eccentric. I still have my goth clothing, my goth make up. Because although it's hard to believe I was once a goth, and it felt good. Because nobody dared call me Madam back then.

Forest?

Feather Theme. Forest Gump. Tom Hanks. Alan Silvestri. This is talking about jaw-dropping amazing music which goes straight to the heart. And the only person I know who has snubbed this movie can go and take a hike to put it very politely. But then this only person really would be the only one to do just that, since he thinks he's so high and mighty and will choose a war movie over this. What a shameless man to say so, what a complete shame. Sophistries Feather Theme is what kept me going through the darkest of days because such a simple tune evokes so much hope. Each note is strategically placed to go hit the high notes of a human's heart. Don't even ask me, I don't want to hear about it. Because the man who shakes his big head and purses his lips at Forest is no man at all. And there are no misunderstandings, how could someone like Forest Gump fail to move you? Well, it could, if you're some statue made out of concrete, not even a marble statue, because probably even marble could be moved. But now it's so clear. He doesn't like Forest. He probably doesn't even like me very much. But I like Forest, and I probably don't like him very much either. So it seems the score is evened, if I can call it a score. Every man should have a heart, macho here flies out the door, I'm just interested. I could remind the haughty man who laughed at Forest, that Silvestri is also the composer of the widely-acclaimed Polar Express. But I'm not sure he would love that either because that's for kids, or is it? I have no place in my life for such men (hopefully they're not too many), because men who are not moved by such touching and heartfelt scores are... robots. And I like the real thing. Thank God for my man who is also touched by Forest and together with the music he brings along with him. Because it's through things like this that one can really see their intrinsic loveable side. And I like loveable.

Ugly?

It's dear old Susan Boyle. I am totally fed up with hearing how bad the British were and how good she was. It wasn't just the Brits, it was all of us. Plenty of us have youtubed Susan during her first audition on BGT. It's mortifying, all the people in the theatre except for Susan of course should have burned at the stake. First, we get Ant and Dec interviewing her, because they probably thought she looked quite a character and that they would be needing the interview to give it to the tabloids so that people could roll in laughter. Then, this very harmless-looking woman walks onto the stage (with big steps may I add, not with the teeny weeny steps expected out of a woman), She is dressed in a gold dress two sizes too small for her and the crowd goes wild, definitely not in appreciation. She is also asked a very impertinent question to ask a lady... how old are you? Probably Simon Cowell figured out he could ask the very impertinent question because it was not a lady on stage. She is asked about her ambitions, and Thank God does not falter, not even when someone decides to be so stupid and wolf-whistle her. Simon rolls his eyes in despair, I would have like his eyes to roll out of their socket and bang into a car. Piers, the ever good guy winces, shame on him. Amanda.... she's coy, she says and does nothing. So the first strains start... and the audience goes wild, this time for a very appreciative reason... you see that thing can sing. Shameful. And sing it can. When her song comes to a close, Piers goes so far as to insist that before her performance everybody was laughing at her... nobody's laughing now. Why on earth was she laughed at in the first place? So harmless-looking, definitely not the look of a hitman or woman. Simon is now uncomfortable. And Amanda of course can splash her praises. Of course Susan gets three yeses. Second time round is different, nobody's laughing then. And all three judges think that they have to make a sort-of apology without uttering the words, I'm so sorry I was an idiot, or I apologize for being the world's biggest dork. And she, so humbly, waives that off as... me? I know nothing. Incredible. I would have made them feel sorry, very very sorry. I'd have called them nasty, stupid and all the bad words in the book. Yet she doesn't, or perhaps it's because she knows she could probably win this. Whatever it is which has sent the world into shock is bad. We have been sent into shock because we never knew that a humble, 47 year old, not fitting into today's stereotype hot chick looks actually has a lot to offer. It's not Susan who is ugly but us. We are ugly for making this into a circus. And now, we have a guilty conscience. So we will hit Susan's number when voting, just to make ourselves feel a little less ashamed. Well, it's all we can do now, not that Susan doesn't deserve to win at that.

Fairytale wrongs and rights

I'm thinking fairy tales. No, not the Eurovision kind. This time I'm thinking of real ones, some of which can be quite frightening. I hate Alice in Wonderland, the dizzy spell down the hole doesn't give me happy memories. I hated Alice, her rabbit, her everything. At 5 I didn't want to go down any hole which had never seen the sun. Now, well now that statement could take on an entirely different meaning. But I still don't like Alice's hole, someone else's, maybe. I do not like Pinocchio. I don't hate it, it's just that I don't like it. Pinocchio was a brat, and Geppetto should have forgotten all about Appogg and Sedqa and given the brat a good trashing. But no, Geppetto was too kind for that. And as a child I felt so sorry for the poor old man, I'd imagine him walking on his own, tears streaming silently down his face just because the brat he loved so much turned on him. Poor man, I'd love to meet him, sit him down, make him a cup of tea and tell him he needn't cry because I already knew how it was going to end up. And I'd tell him he might as well take a big vacation until the brat came back into his life, because I don't believe that brats change. Nobody changes. People, brats too, only develop. A leopard never changes its spots, and neither do we the rest of the so-called intelligent mammals. I also side with the witch in Hansel and Gretel. No, I'm not moved the the two in the cage. It's not fair. So there was this woman who had built her house out of sweets and sheer hard work, and these two other brats come along and begin to eat it all up. Why do we have to feel sorry for them? What if someone came along and decided to knock a bit off our porch just because he was hungry? So arrogant, you'd say he should have rung the doorbell and asked. So should have Hansel and Gretel. And what is this about simple girls wearing a shoe size of 36 that allows them to marry the prince? So that leaves me, a size 41 where? Marrying the toad? I do feel sorry for Cinderella, for having to go through all that half-sister bullying, but the fact is, we get treated the way we allow ourselves to get treated. She could have left home together with her nice network of animal friends. But of course not, Cinderella wanted to play poor me, since she knew that her shoe size would make it all well at the end. Not fair. Why a glass slipper, and why in a size 36? There goes the stereotype, ever since we're born, Cinderella was small, nobody could ever come up with a big Cinderella could they? And oh dear God, who the fuck thought it reasonable to come up with a slipper made out of glass of all things? Do we really want to wear the glass slipper and risk splinters of glass getting embedded into our poor soles? I don't. But then do I want to marry the prince who looks as gay as you can get? Noooooo. Did they really live happily every after? My guess is that Cinderella spent thousands of frustrated nights trying to work the old boy up but of course never succeeding. What about Belle? This is one exception. The only one. I applaud Belle for taking care of her dad. I think it's a girl's duty to take care of her dad who has been a wonderful dad. I also think that I would never give Gastone the time of day either. And I think she must have made a damn good sacrifice to accept living in the Beast's castle so as to protect her father. Prosit Belle. This is one fairytale where the stereotype small and little and beautiful flies out of the window. Good for the old 'ugly' woman who cast the spell on the Beast. That's the way it should always be, try and fit into the other's person's shoes for a minute. Only, this one got plenty of minutes. And Belle being always the one to give others a chance, not the one to be moved by money and machos, also gave the Beast a chance. And they lived happily ever after, Belle, her Beast turned prince, and her dad. And I believe they were the only ones who really lived happily ever after. Because justice was served. And I think Belle had a many a happy satisfied night....