promises, promises

There’s a new Disney ad that re-brands “the Princess” ideal.

“I’ve heard that I am beautiful. I know I am strong,” goes one tagline.

Pretty cute. Multiracial, empowering, and representative of sporty types and bookworms.

There’s also emphasis on integrity and keeping one’s word.

On that score, damn, I just gave up the Princess card. Or got it suspended, at least.

I broke a date tonight with a couple of friends (and missed the gig of another set of pals, all-in-one). Plans were in flux, it was a hey-let’s-meet-up-at-a-friend’s-gig kinda thing, drop-on-by-at-this-hour.

I issued the invite. I backed out two hours before the appointed hour.

Yep, that’s whacked.

I was never one for breaking dates, until now. So I’ve taken a moratorium on the invites, from my end.

It just hit me, as I was going through my wardrobe, that the evening will go as follows:

(1) I get on a cab to get to the other end of the metro.
(2) I’d meet up with friends, have a number of good laughs, listen to great music, and leave around midnight, or perhaps one o’clock (because it’s the middle of the workweek, and none of us are the bar-closer types).
(3) I’d get in another cab, in the wee hours of the morning, and go back home, all the way to the other end of the metro, alone. Text messages aplenty to ascertain everyone’s safe and sound.

I just wasn’t up to it tonight.

Maybe it’s because I’m getting old, but I don’t want to keep dragging a pumpkin around, while hopping on one slipper, way after curfew.

If the distance is shorter, maybe, but otherwise… I’d rather stay a cinder girl, warm near hearth, at home.

(Not that that’s going to get my dancing card filled up. Then again, glass heels pinch like crazy.)

+++

The “I Am A Princess” ad on YT:

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One comment

  1. I do regret missing that gig. Teleportation would be a nice power to have.

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