Sobriety Bites: The Sunday Spinster Sermons: Part Six

Fascinating first reading. In essence, when the dust storm rages in at 4pm and you're probably off your face, here's how you protect your lungs, your eyes and your body. With Particulate respirator, hipster scarf and goggles... Sweet Jesus. The horror!

Last year's Burning Man was a bit more this:

Dawn at the Temple

and this:

Lady Flamingo Faun

and this:

Tent exploration

Needless to say I am a little terrified. My ladies who lunch on acid look could take somewhat of a beating.

My precious

Perhaps we best break for a song. Or even better, a movie clip:

Aha. So elegance can indeed save the day. If Rachel Weisz can handle it, so can I. You may trip out a bit and see imaginary faces in the sandstorm, but as long as you kiss the first man you see it all goes away... Smashing advice. I'll let you know how it goes in THREE weeks when I return to the land of normal. The castle of Wales. I hope it is a less bumpy ride than last year. So the sermon begins...

It's all very well going down the rabbit hole but how do you come out the other side? Fairytales deal with this magnificently. The prince saves the princess. The dragon is slain. And you all live happily ever after. Unless you're the dragon, or the wicked witch or the evil stepmother. As I slope further and further away from princess opportunities due to lifestyle choices, I realise I am more inclined to side with the villain than the heroine. I recognise Ursula the Seawitch and Malificent. I find Ariel and Snow White a bit slow and a bit whiny. Maybe it's the ageing process, or the Spinster growing within, my own silent passenger.

Part of me likes this deviation. I like the friends that side with it too. The wild raucous ones I play with who encourage the badness. Those who find me positively prudish due to their wilder sides or reward my tales of excess. There is a part of me however, that struggles with this abandonment of meeting a nice man and settling down and having babies. It affects family relationships. I found myself spitting venom at my brother for some seemingly long forgotten slight about me swearing too much and having little in common with him. It seems sides begin to be taken.

I feel guilty for not fulfilling the princess role, for not finding my prince, for being too much to settle down with. Is it my perception or how my family really sees me? Perhaps it is a case of learning to live with this person I've become, of embracing the Elphaba, green faced misunderstood witch and realising my ruby slipper days are behind me? Or maybe I'm just ramping up for the wedding of the century when my beautiful, best friends Andrius Paskus & Janis Latvels get married at the Bellagio in 6 days time? And I jump out of a plane, and go fight dustdemons in the desert?

In summation. At present, I work in a castle and pretend to be a Princess while living in a desert of my own making. Next week I'll be in the actual desert, where the wild things are. Then I must return and pretend to be normal again. It perturbs me. Fuck it. Let's look at pretty things instead :)

Sunday worship is brought to you by the groom and the groom.