Not there was ever really a doubt of my lineage. But still, Papa Creecy called me a princess once or twice or a zillion times. Uncle Rex treated me like a princess. And there were a few times in college (ahem) I felt like one. Sorta.
I’m not. A princess. This truth was 100% confirmed last night. Actually this morning.
But first. Yesterday afternoon, I saw La La Land. And I LOVED it so so much. And the more I think about it, the more I LOVE it. Mia (Emma Stone) is adorable wearing swishy-skirted throwback dresses with slightly, I did-nothing-whatsoever (but probably quite a lot) to get these natural waves in my radiant red hair. She’s fresh-faced and optimistic. Princess-like in such a charming way.
And Sebastian (Ryan Gosling). He’s handsome and quirky and oh so devoted to his craft of playing, savoring, and saving pure, authentic jazz. And when life disappoints, he’s a great Prince-Charming-like cheerleader for Mia.
We all need cheerleaders.
And sometimes we need feel good movies and books and songs that make us want to sing and dance.
Depending upon where we are in our lives, I believe we each take away different things from the movies we see, books we read, music we hear. Books I read when I was twenty have a different affect on me today. Same for La La Land, I’m sure.
Oh The Timing.
My truth… Sometimes it’s hard to dream. It’s easier to close the book, drop the pen, turn on the television, and wallow or disappear. La La Land provided me with the message I needed exactly when I needed to hear it. Fun and uplifting, the positive “follow your dreams even when they crash around you” message made me happy from the inside out.
And the tap dancing.
Yes. We. Need. More. Tap. Dancing. In. This. World.
Today, I think lots of folks could use a dose of La La Land. I certainly walked away feeling better than when I walked inside. Better about allowing myself to keep dreaming. I go to the movies to be entertained and inspired. To feel something. To take a trip to La La Land or Neverland or the Land of the Lost or anywhere new where everything is possible. Even for the non-Princesses.
So about the princess thing.
In case there was ever any question way back in the far reaches of my brain, I woke this morning knowing. Knowing without a doubt I’m not a princess because… I slept on a hard rawhide bone, all night it seems. When I woke and thought what’s that poking me in the backside and then yanked it away, I knew a real princess wouldn’t have tolerated even a tiny pea, much less a crazy bone. Not even for a second.
Annabelle (I know it was Annabelle) somehow wedged it safely beneath me. She’s the one who always “buries” bones inside the wrinkles of the duvet or under pillows. She’s the one who moves rawhide bones from one hiding place to another.
Annabelle. She’s the princess.
Me. I’m protector of half-chewed treats, giver of treats, buyer of treats. Writer of words that may or may not be read. All these jobs come with priceless perks.
So here’s to all of us—the bone buriers, the wide-eyed dreamers, the tap dancers, the mess makers, those who make us smile.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
“Audition” La La Land, Emma Stone