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An F*ked Up Fairy Tale About Love

Okay so starting this thing as all fairy tales start – sickeningly sweet – although you know true fairy tales were horror stories and very graphic and rated R at least not the kind PG that we see so much of or the PC ones we see released… although I like those too… hmmm wonder which kind of fairy tale this should be Disney or Grimm…… anyways

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Once upon a time in a land far, far away, there lived a good and kind woman. And this woman had always eaten pie. She found the pie had changed over the years and did not really seem as sweet, and good, and fun as it had once. And then one day the pie baker did not come by, he had decided to make his pies for another and so the poor woman had no pie anymore.

Well as she started getting back on track she found a new dessert, cake. Now as she looked at cakes, she found they were much more tasty than she had let herself believe. Actually she had looked at cakes before, a long, long time ago but had been swayed by the pie baker and so had not gone to the cakeside.

Welllll, as this woman moved through her day, she thought about cakes, but never felt the courage to start looking for cake bakers. She still had a bad taste in her mouth from the pie maker. But as she was always eying the cakes and she was a naturally good and kind woman, the cake bakers started noticing her, especially the ones who really wanted their cake eaten. Of course as fairy tales go, the poor woman and the cake makers seemed to miss each other and so the woman had no cake and the cake makers had no customer.

But suddenly the woman found one cake irresistible and it was totally by accident. She had always walked by this one place, especially right after the mean pie maker had left and the baker happened to be out as she would walk by so they would talk and say hello and not really talk about cakes or eating cake but about other things. And one day the woman realized, she wanted the cake. But alas the woman was too stupid and kind and decided not to approach the cake maker because, well just because, I did say the woman was a little dense. So even though the woman began to desire the cake and think about the cake and really, really, really wanted to eat the cake… she did nothing.

Meanwhile as she talked and moved through life, a couple of other cake makers started thinking the woman might be a customer, so they tried to get the woman to think about other things and to try their cake. And then suddenly, one day, the woman was sitting in her kitchen, wishing it was as easy as baking your own cake but knowing you could only bake your own cake so much before your hands got very, very tired... when she realized there was a dilemma in her life.

The little light bulb had gone on illuminating the fact she was thinking about these three specific cakes a lot and that she really should try to do something, because just going on through the day ignoring things was not working very well and the cake makers were not really being treated very fairly because the woman meant no harm but it still was not pleasing to have this potential person to eat their cake just sitting there thinking about their cake but doing nothing.

(Wow, I mean talk about your major tease and what a mean, evil, crappy thing for the woman to do and really inconsiderate and like playing with the cake and almost dropping it and smushing it all over and then saying it was an accident because she was too blonde and blind to see the cake and how much the cakemakers hoped to have a customer and, and, and, and oh yeah, trying to keep the editorials out of the tale – um breathe in, breathe out - back to the story….)

So the woman tried to think about the three cakes and what she should do

(and okay diverging into seeing Rambo or Arnold suddenly coming into this scene and going with a war cry and blowing up all the cake in extra slo-mo and cake guts splattered all over the place and….. okay back to fairy tale – damn blonde wandering brain – I think I am ADHD… where was I… oh look a shiny thing… j/k okay back to story)

So she decided to look at the cakes….

There was the first cake – the one she had fallen in love with accidentally, the one that somehow seemed to fit right in the place she had in her kitchen. The one she enjoyed talking about and wanted and thought about. But this cake actually was the one that she had never spoken about and now, even worse, the cake maker had relocated and even though she had not seen the cake for a very long time, she still found her thoughts going there even though she knew it was gone and would never be hers to eat.

The second cake was one she had known about as long as she had known the first even a little longer. She had actually even tried a little piece, once, but somehow, thinking about that first cake, complications with the way she had set up her kitchen and even traces of the pie still lingering around prevented her from going to that cake maker and getting the complete cake. And yet that cake was still there and the cake maker always listened to what she said and had actually taught her a lot about making cakes and for now the woman was not eating the cake but enjoyed talking to the cake maker.

Then there was this third cake, a newer baker to the town and one that was not as well known, but one that was very interesting and the baker was a very active chef and had been very bold to take the cake to the woman and asked her to try some which the woman had not said no but thoughts of cake one and cake two still kept her reservations up.

So three cakes, the desired dream, the true comfort and the new interest. (cue melodramatic soap opera organ music) Which would the woman bring home to have in her kitchen? Could the woman be happy and let the dream go and enjoy the fact that there are other cakes out there that she could and would enjoy? But what if she said yes to a cake and brought it home only to have the first cake maker show back up, knowing she would always want that first, would it really be fair to try another cake?

The end.

And okay, no I have not been drinking, taking anything, sniffing, huffing, nothing chemical in my system, no I am not sitting next to little green men or hearing animals speaking in strange tongues, no brain tumor diagnosed… this is all just freaky me rambling on… hey analogies/allegories are hard things to write – you try it.

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page last modified - April 22, 2006

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