Emotion

One thing that isn’t very fair is Emotion. It has a terrible habit of making you think, feel, or do things that you wouldn’t normally do. And even worse, it has the sneaky way of making you not even care.

I would think that me, being an Otherworldy Being, would at least have a lessened penchant for Emotion. Unfortunately, this isn’t true. I’ve enough for me and three besides. And my capacity for Emotion has seemed to grow exponentially as I get older.

Of course, I do have some talent, and my ability to hide these Moments of Weakness is admirable. But you have those moments sometimes when it’s nearly impossible. And even if you are able to fool the people around you, deep inside you have to admit that you’re actually feeling something, and this can lead to a convoluted mixture of thoughts. First, you have to deal with the Emotion itself. Then you realize that you are experiencing an Emotion, and you become irritated. Then you realize you are feeling irritated out of obligation, and you really don’t care; furthermore, you realize that however uncomfortable the Emotion is, you would rather be experiencing the trigger and feeling the Emotion than nothing at all. This is disconcerting, and you realize that you wished you could wish you weren’t feeling, but since you don’t mind, wishing you weren’t feeling is a little pointless.

Confused yet?

Well, that is okay, because I am a Female, and apparently confusing is a common female attribute to Earthlings.

Heavenly Coals

There are many sore disappointments growing up.

For one thing, adults are usually right. They weren't lying when they said eating a whole box of brownies....BEFORE they were baked....would make you sick. I could have sworn on my grandmother's grave (if she were dead, god rest her soul-that-is-still-living) that it was all a farce. I couldn't figure out why they didn't want us to, but it was quite obviously not to prevent us from feeling ill, because that would make too much sense. Except, it was to keep us from feeling ill, and they were really just being kind and concerned parents all along.

Nighttime was another Huge Disappointment of Magnificent Proportions. I could only imagine the Amazing and Dreadfully Exciting things that happened after us kids were banished to our rooms. It was like a whole nother world of wonder, and I just knew that certain things happened and were Casual Occurrences that would never be allowed in the light of day.

Turns out nighttime is pretty much like daytime, except for it's dark. The homework you are working on at five is the same homework you will work on at seven....ten...one....four thirty.... the only difference being your progressively Dreadful Mood. And "staying up late, whoopee!" becomes something you do out of necessity and only for as long as you have to. Because you actually want to go to bed.

Yeah, turns out they were right about that too.

And sometimes, adults word things in a very Tricky Way. You think one thing is going to happen, but it doesn't happen ex-ACTLY like you think it will. One time my elderly neighbor was cleaning out her garage and said she stumbled across a "handheld computer". Those were her words, a H-a-n-d-h-e-l-d C-o-m-p-u-t-e-r. Of course, I took this to mean a Device of the PalmPilot variety. After I pictured myself graciously accepting the gift with many heartfelt thank yous, I pictured myself showing it off to my siblings and feeling like quite the 12 year old for owning such a Sophisticated Piece of Technology. (I did not....I repeat, did NOT....go on to picture myself intercepting an encrypted code that would ultimately lead to the demise of the United States, and personally informing the President, and the non-existent President in my non-existent fantasy did not look anything like a movie star....)

It was a calculator. I was dumbfounded. I still, to this day, don't know how a calculator could be confused with a handheld computer, but I displayed an amazing amount of Thespian Quality as I accepted it with joy and smiles and took it back to the Drawer At Home With A Million Calculators In It.

And then...there was the verse. Along with "ChildrenobeyyourparentsintheLordforthisisrightEphesians6:1" , which I could recite for as long as I can remember, there were those Instilled Truths that parents liked to repeat, particularly after you were naughty, and with little Head Shakes and Sad Eyes and Mouth Twists that meant "How could you be so naughty, I am sorely disappointed, I didn't think you had the capacity to be so wayward and sinful, oh, woe is your soul!"

One such Instilled Truth was as follows.... "return blessings for cursing, thereby heaping coals of fire on their heads...." or something to that effect. I now believe that the point of this particular line, usually given after a fight/argument/tussle/exchange of "loving pats", was meant to focus our attention on doing good, turning the other cheek, and being a blessing no matter what. We were kids, though. And I always thought the word blessing was overused. I was much more interested in those burning coals. In fact, they sounded infinitely more exciting than my usually hits or angry words. So the next time my brother was mean to me, I was ready.
Tyler- Give me that
Me- No. I had it first
Tyler- GIVE ME THAT
Me- No, I had it first
Tyler- GIVE ME THAT YOU'RE A DUMBHEAD I THINK YOU'RE MEAN GIVE IT TO ME
Me- You are a polite brother and my favorite

And I smiled, because only I knew the Horror that awaited him, and I waited patiently for those Heavenly Coals.

They never came. Turns out it's metaphorical, more or less.

Oh well. Maybe when I regain status as Unfallen Faerie, I can use my powers to throw some burning coals around. Although I think that's still missing the point.

Lost Magic Squared

Sometimes it's hard for humans when they get caught up in the everyday, mundane activities of life. They say that life has lost it's "magic".

Sometimes it's harder for a fallen faerie, because technically, that would mean life has lost it's magic twice. Double. Lost Magic Squared. That's what it feels like.

There's going to school, which I have to pretend matters but I know really doesn't, since soon I will get my powers back and go live in some other dimension that doesn't have anything to do with computers or math....or it may be a green field someplace in New Zealand. Either way.

There's going to work, which can be really great or can be really hard and choking. Some days it's like trying to run in quicksand. Yes, quicksand as opposed to regular sand. For one, I doubt it's as pretty and sparkly. For two, sand running is slow and burdensome and you don't really get anywhere. Quicksand is all that, PLUS your sinking, which adds another panicked dimension.

There's just living, making messes and having no time to clean them, dealing with people, wanting to sleep and having things to do.

Sometimes it's enough to make a faerie girl cry.

But there are a few things that can be done to improve these conditions, until, of course, I am able to fly again. One is to light candles. Fire is like a hug. Well, not literally, since it will also burn your skin off. But if you just look at fire, you can almost feel a hug. And it dances. Fire is like a snowflake, never the same. It's always moving, yet staying there, on the candles. Besides, buy the right ones, and candles smell absolutely enchanting.

*CAUTION- Purchasing candles marked "Christmas Tree", "Holiday" "Cinnamon Apples" or "Gingerbread" during the wrong season, i.e., NOT Christmas, will smell delightful but also induce a strong and overpowering sense of melancholy that the season is, indeed, not here, and this can have the opposite affect of a hug. Unless you like sad hugs, which are sometimes in order*

Music is another thing that has superhuman power. It is bigger than you, so be careful with it. For instance, Le Festin can make you feel artistic and a little bouncy and help you get your stuff done. Little Red Riding Hood from the Brothers Grimm can make you feel creepy and suddenly you realize you are alone downstairs and all the windows are very dark (it is, after all, nighttime) and you have to change it.

Also, drinks. Or rather, how they are presented. Tea in a mug is entirely different than tea in a wineglass.

Put all these together, and you have an evening of a counter full of lit candles, music, green tea in a dark blue goblet, and art supplies scattered on the table to be organized. Which isn't too too horrible, even for a fallen faerie.

Part of the curse of being a Fallen Faerie is the Curse of the Inverse, which works in this way... everything a faerie is, I was, but since this past has been (at least attempted to have been) removed from my very existance, I am now the opposite of these things. For example, faeries can, quite obviously, fly. My feet, however, are subject to gravitational pull. Additionally, I have such a paralyzing fear of heights that when the bus drives across an overpass, I cannot help but
1-stop breathing
2-tense up
3-close my eyes
until it is all over. How embarrassing for a flying faerie!

*disclaimer- one has to be given some allowance in such cases, for buses are tall and tippy, bus drivers quite often insane, and speed is altered when up in the sky so that 55 miles per hour looks more like 90*

You know when you (and every other teenage girl in the world) read one of those books about a kid who discovers, generally around the age of 13, that they have magical powers, and has to face the fact that they are a Magical Being and didn't know it? And, of course, they usually have to fulfill some sort of near-impossible task against very Evil People and Dastardly Bad Guys, having just learned four chapters earlier that all these forces exist? And, of course, they usually win, in the meantime learning Valuable Lessons about friendship, love, and being facetious.I'm kind of like that. I'm a lot like that, in fact. But not quite.

Here's the deal...those kids that discover they are magical are like the fraction 1/7. I am the fraction 7/1. I'm the inverse.See, I've always known I was magical. I just don't have any powers. I do believe I am a Fallen Faerie.Now, how I came to lose my abilities to fly, carry pixie dust, and disappear, I don't know. I suspect that I was subject to some form of Mind Eraser when it happened. This, of course, begs the question- why would someone erase my memory? What could I have had that was important for me NOT to have had? The only conclusion is that I hold..er, held...the key to Extraordinary Power that had long been the pawn in an Epic Battle between Right and Wrong. That or I stole someone's chocolate chip cookie recipe, but I don't think that was it.

Of course, being an Upstanding Citizen, I want Right to win...most the time. So I feel it only my duty to try and gain back my powers, my memory, and restore Order to the Realm Unknown. (although, once I discover it, it will be the Realm Known and I shall have to rename it).

There is only so much searching one can do in a human disguise, however. Flying is impossible. I cannot stop time. Trust me...I have tried. A lot. And parents are not easily amused when fifteen minutes after instructing you to clean your room nothing is done, even though it was because you had been trying every combination of finger snapping and eye blinking possible to find The Right One that would instantly put all your toys away. (true story)

Ah, well. Such is the life of a Fallen Faerie.