the magic faraway tree and how patrick swayze ruined my life

An odd heading? Perhaps.

As the years have passsed and I have meandered down the long path to adulthood, I've held on to a few things along the way. Yes, at 28 years of age, I still believe in fairytales. I like simplicity of the notion that good and evil are clearly defined and that the baddies always lose. Using this logic, it makes sense that one's lot in life will determined by whether or not you share your fairy bread and with how much fervour you can sing "sticks and stones may break my bones..." and really mean it.

Unfortunately, age and experience have exposed the harsh reality that the good guys do not always win, no matter how nice you are or how high above sea level you are perched on your moral ground. On the other hand, the changing lands of The Magic Faraway Tree, to me, seem reminicsent of travel. You can climb the tree (see. plane) and land in an ever changing land. Although, you don't get pissed on your way up the tree and I don't remember any reference to jetlag, spending beyond what you earn or struggling with a foreign language.



Anyway, the point is, I still believe!

Moving swiftly on to matters of the heart. It's true. Patrick Swayze ruined my life.

You see, due to inadequate parental supervision and lack of a stable male figure in my life, I learnt to define the roles of relationships from things other than family. That's right. The measuring stick of a proper, functioning relationship for me was that of Johnny & Baby in Dirty Dancing. I thought his bad temper, slick moves and soft on the inside centre were the epitomy of what a man should be. "Nobody puts baby in a corner". Damn right.




Of course, this has led to all sorts of romantic disasters. Briefly, Man 1: After 5 years together I decided he was in fact too nice and a little bit boring. Man 2: He was a little more Patrick Swayze like. Nearly 20 years older than me and a worldly and successful entrepreneur we enjoyed a fairytale start to our romance. Unfortunately, my romanatic illusions would come back to bite me on the arse 18 months later when he revealed himself as an alcoholic who would rather stare at his own reflection than engage in any form of conversation.

Lastly, and by no means least, my current love M. Who told me last week, that it would be interesting when we had children because they would have his bad temper and my one big eye.* Awww.



All this leaves me undeterred.

I'll still keep building my castles in the sky. Patrick Swayze or not.


* I don't mean to come across all "thou does protest a little too loudly" but my eye is really not that much bigger in real life. It's just a weird angle or something!! Oh, also, my hair has not been that blonde for a very long time.