I'm Royalty, Dammit!

I think in a past life, I was a pretty damn important person. I think I was some type of royalty. I don't say this because I think I'm fancy schmancy or better than anyone. I say it because I feel it. Deep within, there are these pangs of "I'm not living up to my potential", "Is that a pea under my mattress?" and "I am the fucking queen of the universe, everyone should grovel at my feet". Now, I say many of these things in jest to the people around me every day. We laugh and giggle and think it's just silly. But, deep down inside it just feels right when someone asks me for something with the statement "I shall grovel at your feet if you do this one little thing for me." Granted, they should grovel anyway, because I am awesomely royal - a royal pain in the ass.



I've been given some princess gifts over the last year: a tiara, a sign for my office door that states "The Princess in In, You May Enter", a new MacBook, and other assorted goodies. Some of the things I've received don't necessarily say royalty outright, but underneath, they all scream "we're in awe of you!"

Take my black support ribbon magnet.
On the outside, this is a silly gift. However, it assumes couple of things:

1)That I support something enough to own a support magnet that will ruin the paint job on my -get this- Grand Caravan (how else would royalty travel, other than in a grand caravan) and

2) that I think people are assholes that would steal a $3.99 magnet off of someone's car.

Now, I'm not sure I can get behind something enough to warrant a giant magnetic ribbon on my vehicle. For one, I just don't like the way they look. I'm not saying they're not a way to show your support for something. I'm just saying I don't want to do it with a magnet. EVERYONE is doing that. I'm not one of the masses. However, the second assumption up there is right on the money. And as much as I think that may be the coolest magnetic ribbon around, it's not on my car. It's on my fridge. With all of my other magnets: a wedge of cheese from Wisconsin, a taxi from New York, a butterfly I painted, a shit load of Thomas the Tank Engine magnets and the letters of the alphabet. There are more, but they are inconsequential.

There are other signs, not just groveling and gifts.

Here's one: I don't like to shop. I'm much happier when other people shop for me. I would be in seventh heaven if someone just said they would take over buying my clothes and shoes for me. That would be spectacular!

There's my love of sex toys. Cleopatra was so into these! She had special toys carved out of wood and even some made out of leather. She was a wild woman. Maybe I was Cleopatra.

Then, there's my penchant for waving. I don't do the Forest Gump wave or the Elvis wave. I do the parade wave, the wave of royalty.

Other things I do that are evidence of my past life of royalty:
The only steak I'll eat is filet mignon - top shelf meat for a top shelf gal!
Josh refers to me as Princess Mommy whenever I'm in a dress.
I get irritated when anyone else refers to themselves as the queen or king of anything.
I don't like the show "King of Queens", just because of the name of it.
My favorite playing cards: Kings and Queens.
AND, I think we should stop calling them Jacks and start calling them Knaves.
I purposely wore a floral dress to a wedding that I was just a guest at, and thought of wearing a tiara. Why is that uppity? Because the bride passed word that she would like the women to all wear black, and I didn't want to be just like everyone else.

I am a little concerned that I went from royalty to a royal pain in the ass as it seems like a step down. I think that you only get one chance to be something great and since I have nothing to offer other than my sharp wit and sassy attitude, my chance has past. I'm thinking that we all start out as something great and every time we come back, it's as something a little less than (but similar to) what we were the first time. So, perhaps next time around I will be a pigeon .. they get free food and crap on everyone and everything.

That's kind of a royal thing to do, don't ya think?