Throwback: Mandrakes, or Mandragora

Crossposted. Compose date: September 26, 2010

These things happen.  They’re hard, but we get over it. They're called exams, and they come calling twice every trimester.

These other things happen. They’re even harder, but get over it I shall. A drama masquerading as love, which tries to get under my skin, but it too shall go. There is truly something to be said about cutting one's nose off to spite one's face. By now, I’m so used to it that I know the nose will grow back. And if it's a really ugly nose, surely it deserves to be cut off!

Then there’s fugliness masquerading as dreams.  They creep about my head all night, and as if that weren't enough, come sit on my open notebook when I desperately need to study.

There are these voices I hear in my head at night. Well, not really in my head, but at least on the other end of the phone. They're called friends, and they're fun to listen to. Oh, and they like to listen too!!! :)

They are the angels that protect my steps, for all I like to complain about being an orphan, alone and friendless, and asking for more. They are the ones I never go to in need, because independent streaks and bouts of depression are too much to handle at once. But they’re also the ones that help me make sense of the tapestries that make up life. Tapestries that are too magnificent to be completed, which is why there are always a few stitches missing. Because they become reality when completed. Can’t have that now, can we?

I lay in bed for an hour and a half in the morning today, and wondered why I couldn't just put in those missing stitches and maybe everything would be perfect. But I daren't because those stitches are missing in a crucial place. It could be bad, or it could be good. I daren't take the chance, or take that leap of faith... yet. Because maybe it isn't time yet, and I don't want to ruin everything by being pre- emptive.

So I'm just going to wait for Destiny to be a nice fairy godmother, and deliver my package right into my lap. Not a pumpkin, not a lot of mice (though hamsters might be nice). No, not even a dog that turns into a horse (even though that sounds pretty damn cool). I just want a tiny green frog that won't jump out of my lap. A little frog I won't feel like stuffing with chloroform and pinning down on the dissection table. (I've done it to cockroaches and boys, but never to real frogs or cute white rats with red eyes). A little frog that's been coached in the ways of frogs, and knows it’s supposed to turn princely the minute it’s kissed.

It's been too long since the last time we had a toast, and I've gotten over my whimsical fancy to break tradition. (No, I don't spare even my own traditions). So, here's to fairy tales, and chloroform, and sleepless nights. Here's to the exams that are "just around the corner". Here's to people who remember you for kicking other people in the shin. Here's to Zee, my Guardian Angel and Fairy Godmother, because she blessed my wedding this week. And here's to the white flowers that keeping landing on my doorstep from the land of Goodness- Knows- Where.