Fairytales 02

March 22, 2009

You know what to do… Highlight only if you wish to read:

“How dare you, Queen Marianne,” Harriet shrieks, “you go to another kingdom to consult a witch when I, the Magnificent and Great Harriet the Witch, lives within the boundaries of your kingdom. And of all the witches in the Far, Far Away Kingdom, you went to her,” she added the last word with an amount of disgust, pointing her dirty finger to Helga. “You can go to the Wicked Witch of the West, but no, not you, you go to Helga.”

“Dear Harriet,” Helga says, with a pleading tone, “let by gones be by gones, shall we?” She continues in a soothing tone, “It isn’t any of our fault, it was pure accident. You can’t blame me for it, it isn’t my fault your nose fall off. I’ve warned you that reconstructive charms can be tricky, haven’t I? Look at the bright side, now you have…well, a little less nose!”

“Wasn’t your fault!? Wasn’t your fault!!??” Harriet echoes in a hysterical voice, while touching her nose, which was one shade less tan than the rest of her face. She suddenly calms herself, but still looking very horrible, what with the hyenas and vultures around her. “Enough with that. Now, you,” says she, pointing one black, disgustingly dirty index finger to Queen Marianne. “I shall make you pay. I don’t give a damn even if you are the Queen of Narnia. And when you’re just a mortal queen,  how dare you insult me. Hell hath no fury like a witch scorned.”

The two queens look helplessly to Helga, for their soldiers have been jinxed into lizards, their carriage-drivers changed into toads, and now their maids are mere mice, and the ornately crafted carriages are now orange pumpkins. But Helga, ever the phlegmatic girl, always runs away from confrontation. So she disappear with a loud “Pop!” into thin air, leaving the two queens and the little royal infants into the mercy of Harriet.

“Now,” says Harriet, looking at the two babies, smiling wickedly and rubbing her two dirty hands together, “What shall I do? Now, now, the question is what curse shall I use? How about…when the little princess turns eighteen and pricks her finger on a spindle…no, no, I’m very certain that one’s been used. Wouldn’t want to be charged with plagiarism now, would I…,” Harriet is deep in her evil thoughts, murmuring, “Oh, this is just so classic, the evil witch offended, becomes furious, curses the princess, and then killed by a prince charming. No no no…we’ll have to do better than that.”

Harriet looks at the princess and the prince, the prince and the princess, over and over, while both queens stand frozen, too afraid to move, for they are now surrounded by the nasty creatures. Suddenly a thought strikes Harriet.

“So…,” she says, in an unusual spine-chillingly sweet tone, “you two have bound your children? They are to…,” her face is now right in front of the queens’ faces, “marry?”

“Y-y-yes,” Queen Felicity stammered.

“Well,” say Harriet, “to show you that I am not at all evil, I shall not stand in your way,” says she, in a sweet angelic voice, “The prince will, indeed, meet the princess. They will indeed, fall in love. They will, indeed, have a wedding. However,” her voice suddenly turn harsh, “I shall make the story a teeny weeny bit more interesting…,” says she, raising her index finger to the princess.

Both queens suck in their breaths, and move not even a tenth of an inch.

“Then…,” she says in a sweet voice unsuited for her, “as the night before their wedding fades, as the moon disappears and the sun starts to arise to the joyful day, the prince shall turn into the one thing the princess hates the most. And to turn the prince back into human, the princess must kiss him. Should she fail to do so before the break of dawn a fortnight after the wedding day, the prince shall remain unchanged forever.”

And with that, Harriet shrieks, and the hyenas and the vultures that are fluttering above her start to squawk loudly, and start to flap their wings in a frenzy, sending big, black feathers scattering in every direction. One of the vultures land, Harriet then mounts it, and with one final, disheartening cry, off she go, leaving two terrified and saddened queens on the ground.

(to be continued)



March 21, 2009

Recently, I thought about fairytales.

About Sleeping Beauty and how she had to be kissed so she can wake up, and about how the Prince had to go through that many obstacle.

About Snow White and how she, too, had to be kissed by yet another Prince in white horse. About Cinderella who cannot break free from her cruel stepmother and stepsisters, but had to wait to be rescued by, again, a Prince in white horse and shining armor.

I can’t help but think what fairytales do to children. I mean, what kind of ideas do this kind of fairytales embed into the minds of young children, especially girls. Would they grow up waiting for their knight in shining armor, only to find that the armor is rusty, the horse grey and limp, and the Prince not at all what they had expected?

Well, they could just be stories to them, mere fruit of imagination, like they were to me, but is it wise to tell them stories that was made up of helpless women, damsels in distress?

So…I tried…to make my version of fairytale… I write it in white, so to read you have to highlight it. Here goes:

Once upon a time, in a Far, Far Away Kingdom, lives a mighty king and his enchantingly beautiful queen. This royal couple, King Francis and Queen Felicity, has been longing for a child for sometime.

At that time, once upon a time, in a Farther Away kingdom, lives another King and Queen. The king, King Marcus, is just as mighty as King Francis, and the queen, Queen Marianne, is as stunningly beautiful as Queen Felicity. This royal couple, too, has been longing for a child.

The two queens are what used to be called “bosom friends”, or what we simply refer to as “best friends”. They visits each other regularly, for they have quite nothing to do, and no child to take care of. They spend the days walking through the grounds of the Far, Far Away Kingdom, and picking apples in the orchards of the Farther Away Kingdom.

They are happy, of course, being queen and having ladies-in-waiting and all. But in the nights, they cry themselves to sleep, pouring their tears for the children they never had. It’s understandable, one might say. Women living once upon a time would have nothing else to do except for nurturing their children, cooking dinner, and domestic stuff. They don’t have to, say, do an research to accelerate the time needed to turn heaps of organic garbage into compost. Plus, they’re queens, and would never be subjected to hard-work. Perhaps if they have Harvey-Nichols or Debenhams or Sogo, and Louis Vuitton bags to buy, they wouldn’t be this distressed. But again, they were living once upon a time, where women don’t even carry handbags, let alone monogrammed handbags with sky-high prices.

The kings see this with anxiety. They don’t want their lovable, stunningly gorgeous queens to wither and die of sadness. They will then have to find new queens, and the new ones may not be as beautiful as the ones they have now.

So the two kings agree on consulting a witch.

Back then, once upon a time, there are two prominent witches in each of the kingdoms. The two kings discuss whether to consult Helga of the Far, Far Away Kingdom, or Harriet of the Farther Away Kingdom. Helga is a witch well-known for her Tarot Card Reading, Divination and Matchmaking skills, and while Harriet is in reality better-skilled than Helga at any witchcraft a witch can possibly do, she is also notoriously wicked and exceptionally good at casting curses. Legends have it that she once bring back a dead soul. And as we know, too, necromancy is the darkest form of witchcraft.

It is but natural that the two kings agree to see Helga. They took, however, extreme acts of precaution to avoid Harriet knowing the fact that they prefer Helga to her. They are both aware that it will provoke hell.

Long story short, they go to Helga’s Hut. The witch is waiting for them; she sees the both of them walking towards her hut while gazing through her crystal ball. She also know what they’ve came for; she consulted her Tarot Cards.

As soon as the two kings set foot in her hut, Helga says, “It can be done.” The two kings are taken by surprise, and she adds to that surprise by continuing, “I’s possible, as far as I see it, and mind you, I see quite very far. My Seeing Eyes say that you,” she points her index finger to King Francis, “shall have the perfect son for a prince and heir. And you,” she says dramatically, pointing her other index finger to King Marcus, “shall have a beautiful daughter. Rebellious, but still, beautiful.”

The two kings are overjoyed to hear that at last they shall have heirs to their thrones. Their queens, too, upon hearing the prophecies from their kings, are overflowed with happiness.

Then the prophecies come true. Queen Felicity gives birth to Prince Frederick, and no more than a month later Queen Marianne gives birth to Princess Madeleine. At the christening of Princess Madeleine, Queen Felicity visits the Farther Away Kingdom, bringing along her newborn son with her.

Being bosom friends, the two queens quickly reach an agreement to engage their children to be married. The prince and princess are to be married when they come of age. And to strengthen the engagement, they went to Helga, to ask her to bind the two babies.

“It can be done,” says Helga, “It’s very possible indeed, and it’s been done by my ancestors. However…,” she says in an unusual mystical voice, “I sense something here. Something dangerous. Something…,” she stops, then all of then sudden zooms her face towards the two queens, causing them to back away, and Helga whispers dramatically, “cursed!”

The two queens are mystified, horrified, terrified, but in every way else very determined. They wants to bond their children, no matter what. So the witch complies, and does what was requested.

But Helga’s reputation is not built on nothing, for when the queens walk out of the hut, a loud and completely frightening thunderbolt welcomes them. And the surprise is not only thunderbolt, the sky is filled with huge vultures flapping their black wings in the maddening sky, and on the ground are hyenas, and in the front line is…Harriet!

And she brings hell with her.

(to be continued)

Liking This

March 20, 2009

Aren’t they cute?


Some might say they’re odd, but I prefer “unique”.


They’re Oxford heels.


It’s a woman’s version of men’s shoes. First it’s trousers, then vests, oversized-shirts… Women are using their privilege of wearing pretty much anything they want. Only heaven knows what will happen should a man (normal man, not transvestite or the likt) step out of his house in women’s clothing, but women wearing men’s clothes? We even have a term for it: androgyny.


I can really walk tall in these. =)


The magenta Oxford heel above looks strong enough to be driven into someone’s skull. *evil laugh*

(I’m thinking of Jessica Sanders, from Heroes, in her elevator scene… Cool, intimidating, and really cold-blooded.)

So…Oxford heels…yay or nay?

Do You Agree?

March 17, 2009

enough money within her control to move out
and rent a place of her own,
even if she never wants to or needs to…

something perfect to wear if the employer,
or date of her dreams wants to see her in an hour…

a youth she’s content to leave behind…

a past juicy enough that she’s looking forward to
retelling it in her old age…

a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra…

one friend who always makes her laugh… and one who lets her cry…

a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her family…

eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems,
and a recipe for a meal,
that will make her guests feel honored…

a feeling of control over her destiny…

how to fall in love without losing herself…

how to quit a job,
break up with a lover,
and confront a friend without;
ruining the friendship…

when to try harder…and WHEN TO WALK AWAY…

that she can’t change the length of her calves,
the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents…

that her childhood may not have been perfect..but it’s over…

what she would and wouldn’t do for love or more…

how to live alone… even if she doesn’t like it…

whom she can trust,
whom she can’t,
and why she shouldn’t take it personally…

where to go…
be it to her best friend’s kitchen table…
or a charming inn in the woods…
when her soul needs soothing…

what she can and can’t accomplish in a day…
a month…and a year…

(I don’t know who wrote this; found this in a friend’s facebook. LOL
I personally doubt the part about the eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems and a recipe for a meal, though…)

Ears of the Walls

March 13, 2009

Be careful what you say; the walls have ears.

This is a common English phrase, supposedly first recorded in 1620. It is said to come from a story about Dionysius of Syracuse (430-367 b.c.), who had an ear-shaped cave cut and connected between the rooms of his palace so that he could hear what was being said from another room.

When boys get together, they talk dirty.

So I’ve heard.

I’ve never observed the actual dirty conversation.

I didn’t know that they actually talk about people they know.

But don’t they know that the walls have ears?

That the walls can talk?

That the person talked about will eventually got word, and be pissed like hell?

Don’t they know that?

Don’t they use the brains God has given them? The common sense?

Then what exactly is the difference between them and primates?

A lot of people tells me to let it go. Try saying “It’s no big deal”, and I can just claw your eyes out. I am definitely not a saint, I sometimes can be a bitch, but I will not be talked about as if I’m the whore of the Babylon.


March 11, 2009

It is written in the Holy Bible, in the book of Genesis:

And the rib, which the LORD God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man.
(Genesis 2:22)

I believe this. As I believe the passage following it:

For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh.
(Genesis 2:24)

I do, however, have difficulties with Ephesians 5:22.

22Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. 23For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. 24Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.

25Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her 26to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, 27and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. 28In this same way, husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. 29After all, no one ever hated his own body, but he feeds and cares for it, just as Christ does the church— 30for we are members of his body. 31“For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.” 32This is a profound mystery—but I am talking about Christ and the church. 33However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.

Does this mean that woman and man are not equal after all? “Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord”? The Indonesian translation is, “Hai isteri, tunduklah kepada suamimu seperti kepada Tuhan.”

Well, I refuse to believe that.

Maybe when I found that person to whom I can actually say, “Thank you, for that wonderful gift. Your rib. The rib with which God had created me, ” without any hint of sarcasm. Maybe when I find that person. Maybe then I can fully have faith in Ephesians 5:22?

A Song Stuck In My Head

March 3, 2009

She likes chocolate in the morning
She drinks her coffee late at night
You can sense that she is guarded
But that’s alright
She’ll fall asleep while your still talking
With unfinished books beside her bed
She’ll cancel all of her appointments
And go shopping instead

And in spite of what is right
Far beyond what she’d except
When the moon begs the question
Will you have the answer yet?
Can’t you just adore her?
Can’t you just adore her?

She loves to watch the sunset
But she is partial to the rain
With those tears and that umbrella
Her allure goes unexplained
You made dinner in your apartment
You both assume that she’ll be late
She always has the best intentions
Her goodness is innate

And in spite of what is right
Far beyond what she’d except
When the moon begs the question
Will you have the answer yet
Can’t you just adore her?
Can’t you just adore her?
Why can’t you just adore her?

I like chocolate in the morning
I drink my coffee late at night

Mandy Moore – “Can’t You Just Adore Her”

(the girl in this song kinda reminds me of someone…hmmm…)