I realize that one of my greatest qualities is also my biggest flaw. I asked the mirror, “Who is the fairest of them all?” and the mirror told me I asked the wrong question.
My thoughts are brutally honest, which is nice if you want to hear it like I see it, but I’m a total pain in the ass if you like pretty lies. My laugh is a cackle, sometimes its more malevolence and less mirth. I’m shocked by my own commentary on matters of taste and of the heart. I am, after all, the foremost authority on how to live life! I stop myself mid-sentence to ponder how far over the line I’ve crossed. From where I stand it seems so far away, but I’m too foolish or unkind to recant my last glib line or pointed remark.
Sometimes I think I’m funny, and the laughs really are the worst kind of encouragement! I’d like to feign innocence and say that I’ve only just realized my bad habits, but I knew my penchant for mocking and wisecracking from an early age.
On my senior trip to Disneyland I bought a pair of pajamas inscribed with one simple word—Wicked—and at the hem of the shorts was a patch with the Queen from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. They are my favorite pajamas. They are near and dear to my bitchy heart.
Currently playing: Madonna, Bedtime Story
(A serious shout-out to The Pink Fairy who just discovered that my darling Björk is responsible for my favorite Madonna ditty…)