have a cold in Costa Rica! Oh cruel irony, but I thought I’d share because really, how?!
I managed to get a cold here!… Here!
So here’s the thought I have to share today friends; the world is irrevocably split! And I talk not of race, colour or creed. I talk not of politics and religion. I talk of the ever gaping void between two types of people, that of the princess and the fool.
To put it in laymans terms, because I know the audience I’m working with, (I’m joking, I just feel we’re close enough for insults now… Although we were before… Hmm) the princess is the sort of girl who was obviously ushered, like a speakeasy, into a special class at school with a few other chosen ones and taught exactly how to talk to boys and be pretty and nice and essentially perfect all the time. Nearly all my friends fall into this category of girl. And you hate that you love them, much in the same way that you hate that you dance around in your pj’s at least once a week to ‘Call Me Maybe’, because by rights you should want to bludgeon them with an oversized ladle, but their charm and loveliness works even on you! She is the one songs were written about, I, as a fool, am the one who does the lawnmower to the dance.
Now the reason I am qualified to talk with some authority on this topic in particular is because myself and my sister (the lovely Bethany Spottiswood who incidentally writes her own wonderful blog) represent each party. We are two flip sides of the same coin and thus I have felt in the presence of her beauty for most of my life. She has always represented the type of person who flourishes in every social situation, who is loved by everyone she’s ever met, who is noticed when she walks into a room for her luscious hair and her enchanting laugh. On the flip side I am noticed yes, but its more for snorting when I laugh before tumbling gracelessly onto he floor taking out a tray of food with me – gospel truth there peeps.
These social moulds, we are told, do not last forever. But as the Bowling For Soup crew croon in ‘Highschool Never Ends’ alas they do not. Not even at work, or at university or even oh I don’t know saving turtles in Costa Rica for example *cough*…
However my words of wisdom on the matter comes from my sister (who has a blog of her own, did I mention?) And as its something I often harken back to in moments of sadness I thought I would share it with you today!
On a dark dark night on a dark dark country road in the dark dark depths of dark dark Wiltshire you come to a scene where Bethany (who has a blog, wow, you should read it some time) is driving a weepy me home from a hard night of work where the bitches were MOST DEFINITELY out in force. My weep was over the fact that after Bethany bounded into my establishment I was rounded on by my male work colleges who wished to know exactly who she was and after why, as her sister, I have to be so comparitavely charmless (at least that’s what my warped mind changes their casual comments to). It was on this fateful night that the princess (WHO WRITES A BLOG BY THE WAY) tells me that it is infact her who is in emnity of me being a fool! ‘Why?!’, I ask the praline angel (Who is also a blogger, casual), ‘why would you wish to sacrifice your wow-factor for the life of the bumbling fool?’.
‘Because,’ she declared unto me, ‘while it is I who is entreated at every party I attend it is thee who is joking and laughing in her trackies in the morn. While the princess is the amazing girlfriend of a few months the fool remains the best friend for life, and at the end of the day, if you truly care about someone, which role is more important?’
It may be one of those situations where, like with your hair, you invariably want what you can’t have (oh black lady Afro, will you ever be mine?) and I know that of course everyone wants to be a princess every now and then! But I think maybe we should make our peace with the roles we naturally fall into, whichever one it may be. For example I know I’m the biggest fool on the trip, but I also know I’d rather be that and black and blue and with a broken toe from my ineptitude at football (true story bro) than a girl whose main priority is topping up her tan, and I’m sure it’s visa versa.
So whichever girl or boy you are, I hope you know it’s ok that you’re that person and that you can be honest with yourself about it. Wear that makeup or those bruises like badges of honour, THIS, ladies and gentlemen, IS SPARTA!