an alternative sleeping beauty

do you remember the story of sleeping beauty? i thought i did, but i didn't remember that it contained a whole lot of whispers from backstage and impatient toes peeking under the curtain:

and i don't really remember an abraham lincoln character.

but it did begin to vaguely ring a bell when they brought out a king and a queen who desperately wanted a baby.

it got a bit hazy again when a frog came out and promised them a little princess. i don't really remember a frog.

but then some good fairies came and made lovely promises of a happy life for the baby princess.

but, of course, there had to be an evil fairy too and she said the princess would die, which didn't really seem so bad because it all rhymed.

luckily, the blue fairy hadn't yet made her promise to the little princess and she said she wouldn't die she would just sleep for 100 years. and so she grew up and did exactly that.

and tall vines (which spoke in rhyme) grew up around her.

and they were quite hilarious when the prince came and chopped them down.

and despite looking positively american gothic, the prince and princess lived happily ever after.

and wild fun was had by all...

and now it's time for some beauty sleep around here.

fairytales

"snow white is doin' dishes again, cuz what else could you do with seven itty bitty men.."



i have always had a soft spot for music that twists fairytales. whether it's sondheim's musical into the woods or sara bareilles fairytale song, the whimsy of making fun of fairytales just speaks to me. maybe because i never really liked fairytales all that much. princesses waiting around for their prince charming to come and rescue them from something or other was never really that appealing (tho' i loved the long-haired barbie versions of those characters).

some of the fairytales were a bit gory for me as well--beheadings, poison apples, grandmas being eaten by wolves or children lured through the woods by a witch who intends to fatten them up and eat them. these are scary stories. why do we think they're appropriate for children? they gave me nightmares as a child.

not to mention that the idea of sleeping for 100 years in a thorn-covered castle simply didn't appeal. though i would have loved to have hair long enough to climb, somehow that never happened. it's just as well, since as sara bareilles sings of rapunzel:

"a tall blonde lets out a cry of despair, says, would have cut it myself if i knew men could climb hair. i'll have to find another tower somewhere and keep away from the windows."