Archives for the month of: September, 2012

Ah Tuesday, it seems so innocuous…it’s just there, the morning on which I recover from singing at Musical Mondays – last night bedecked in sequins and feathers, ok the feather part was new, usually I just look like Honey Boo Boo’s older Asian Auntie.

However, it seems that things can happen on a Tuesday, Virginia, oh yes they can. On Tuesday, while catching up on social media time suck, one of my friends posted this article from a waaay far right, so far right they are actually in the ocean, so far right, they circle the globe with their far right-ness and smack themselves in their own ass website, that I thought it was a joke.

It’s called   14 Outrageous Secrets that a Homosexual will never tell you

Needless to say, I was intrigued – after all, I have heard it ALL, Grrl – there’s almost nothing that a Homosexual at some point has NOT told me. Sometimes, I pretend I am Madonna’s son Rocco, and I start screaming “Stop Talking, Stop Talking!”  I wish I could find that clip from the DRIVEN special on MTV to show you. It’s kind of amazing, because at some point, haven’t we all wished we could yell at Madonna to stop talking? Or at least stop talking with an English accent – I mean, she is not from the mythical country of Europea!

Anyway, I started reading, and immediately I started laughing, because I thought this was a ‘joke’ blog. You know, like The Onion – but…it’s not. So I thought, as good Fairy Princesses should, I would go through it and, well, discuss – His statements have been ‘bolded’, and my answers are beneath.

‘1. Homosexuals Bleach Their Anuses – probably to cover bruises or lashes from sadomasochist sessions”

It’s Los Angeles – we bleach everything. The entire city often seems sponsored by Clorox. Anal Bleaching in LA is like getting your teeth capped, or a photo facial – both women and men do it – and truly, I know more women that do, because straight men like them to wear thong, tha-tha-tha- thongs.

Hair? Check. Teeth? Check.
Anus? I’ll leave that to a tatted up Rock Star

‘2. Mutual Masturbation is the Primary Reason for Gym Membership

Dude – I worked at a Gay Gym. The primary reason for Gay men buying gym membership is so that their long term partner doesn’t poke their tum-tum and say, “Hey, you’re looking a little chunky, Monkey”.

You know what the difference is between Straight men joining a gym and Gay men joining a gym?

Gay men GO to the gym.

C’mon, you’d totally ‘hit it’

Also, the classes at a Gay Gym? TOTALLY BETTER than at a Straight Gym!  Yeah, straight gyms rarely have the latest equiptment or Showtune Spinning or AfroBrazilian Dance or anything other than Step Aerobics with Jane Fonda’s choreo from the 80’s. That is why Straight women go to Gay Gyms – better classes, cleaner facilities, no lines at the bathroom, and no one lewdly giving them the eye while they try and stretch out their hamstrings.

‘3. Homosexual Marriage will usher in an epoch of international terror.’

I have been to several Gay Weddings. Unless you are terrified of a tasteful flower arrangement, or think that they are hiding anal bleaching kits in the amuse bouches, there’s nothing to be scared of. Unless you are the Caterer and the food is bad, then you SHOULD be terrified – I mean, this is a GD Gay Wedding – there are STANDARDS!

And btw, Entertainment at Gay Weddings? Awesome. Like, Broadway superstars stopping by to throw down a tune or two Awesome. And if they can’t make it, call me…

4) Heterosexual women are far less likely to get married if they socialize with gays.

I am a Fag Hag, I am Married, I have a kid. I am also thanked in 5 Gay Books, and am even on the cover of one:

I am totally thinner now, fyi

 ‘5) Same sex desires are purposely being spread from humans to the animal kingdom.’

I watch Animal Planet and National Geographic. Animals that are homosexual in the wild include dolphins, monkeys, giraffes, penguins, sea gulls, koalas, cattle, chimpanzees, caribou, bison, brown bears and cats (not the musical, but…well, it IS a musical).  I’ve got a little list, I’ve got a little list….

6) The radical liberal agenda of early television shows lured many youngsters into the dark world of promiscuity.’


I would have gone with “Designing Women” myself….

7) Gay bars operate along the same principles as Muslim terrorist cells.’

What Gay Bars has he been going to? He should come with me, I go to some really fun ones.

‘8) Today’s youth generation is using sex as a weapon to destroy American values.’

He blames the Twinks.

First of all, how does he know the word “Twink”? Methinks he doth protest too much. Perhaps he has been tap tap tapping on the bathroom stall floor? Let’s be honest -Sex as a weapon is usually the domain of Mistresses and Wives who know their Husbands are cheating.

I blame Twinks for stuff too, but mostly for things like calling Steel Magnolias ‘that old timey film from like, the twenties, right?”

For not knowing who Greta Garbo was!

OR for insisting Lady Gaga is better than Madonna! UH….there would BE no Lady Gaga without Madonna, cuz if none of us elders learned to “Express Ourselves”, Y’all couldn’t line dance to “Born This Way”.

‘9) Hardcore sodomy is the most common way same-sex adherents achieve gratification.’

To which I reply “Sodomy, it’s between God and Me..” and every other lyric from RENT.

Also – Comment dis tu Rough Trade, Mr. Billings?

’10) New York Magazine is a hotbed of secret homosexual propaganda.’

This one?

Maybe this one?

A straight guy did this makeup

’11) The foulest excesses of sexual congress known to mankind are held among a highly exclusive group known as the “bears,” but the mainstream media refuses to investigate them.’

Investigate Bears? Why? Bears are sweet, besides you ever see a Bear with Forty Foot…

Sorry, sometimes I inadvertently Sondheim. But why investigate? Are they missing? Here’s some you can find right on the shelf. Go ahead, investigate them. To do it REALLY well, you have to buy their books.

Here’s what I have to say about ‘Bears” – best bunch of guys you will ever know. Bears will  give you a hug when you need it. Bears will invite you to dinner parties and won’t judge when you have seconds.

Now, have I been to ‘raunchy’ Bear parties? Yes – and it’s always an accident. I have also been to Fraternity Parties – and this is what I have to say about that – as far as I know, no woman has ever been raped and gotten pregnant at a Bear Party. I cannot say the same for a Fraternity Party, because it happened to a friend of mine.

Bear Party v. Fraternity Party?

Bear Party, paws down.

12) Glee is intentionally recruiting children into the world of homosexuality.’

I don’t like mash ups of Show Tunes and I find Rachel insufferable. However is it ‘recruiting’? No. If it was recruiting, there would be a piece of paper to sign up – and the last time I checked West Hollywood, I didn’t see a list. I was there Monday.

’13) Rachel Maddow is a liberal, a lesbian and a lousy newsreader.’

SHOCKING, he is  threatened and yet attracted to Rachel Maddow? Yeah, she is kinda hot – as are most brainy women.

14) Cat ownership is a sad substitute for healthy, Christian relationships.’

This one had me ROLLING on the floor! I am NOT a Cat Person, I’m allergic. But how is this an Outrageous Gay Secret? Everyone knows that Cat People are weird – that’s why they are Cat People. Are Gay Cat People weirder than Straight ones?

Well…as I say, I watch Animal Planet – the people that are hoarding the cats? Straight people. Also, their cats are ferrell and gross looking. I have seen tons of Gay Owned cats, and ya know what? They are better groomed than I am! And I wear sequins!

Look – his whole article is ridiculous, steeped in prejudice and fear. The Fairy Princess takes a dim view of dim people. You know who cares about ‘the Homosexual Agenda” in my mind?

People who are closeted, self loathing homosexuals.

You know who is NOT worried about “The Homosexual Agenda”?

Everyone else.

How is this in ANY way Christian? That’s like me saying I am a Deep Sea Fisherman because I eat sushi. To quote Dolly Parton in a really bad movie “Get down off the Cross, someone needs the wood”.

The Fairy Princess believes that if you read the Bible, you will see that part where it says we were all created in God’s image. All. That means everyone. That means, actually….the Deity has a bit of a flair.

Think about it.

I said, on my initial post, that I might write, upon occasion, about people who cannot parent in public. If I had a dollar for every parenting theory out there…I would probably have about $10,000, but I’m not debating Tiger Mom-ness over breast feeding an eighteen year old. I will leave that to the experts.

Forget “Parenting” this kid is going to be attached to his Therapist

I am writing this post as an Aunt. I am the Auntie to one of the most adorable kids on the planet and I take her, very often, to the library. Why?  I like to read, and  I wanted to share that with her. Since she was about five months old, I have taken her to the library and read her a few books – in fact, she’s been there so often, that all the librarians greet her by name – she’s the Mayor of the Children’s Section.

She is also only 15 months. She’s little.

Recently I took her to the library, and there were other kids in the section – not unusual, it’s the library. There were two children there whose ages I would put at about four years old, and they both had adult supervision, well, kinda.

The little four year old girl had a Nanny, who was doing her best to remind her how to behave – and that little girl was fine, until she met…oh let’s call him…..Zeke. (I don’t know anyone with a kid named Zeke so that’s why I’m picking it)

This is what I imagine Zeke was channeling

Dear old Zeke had a Mom, she was right there, sitting on the couch next to him, not paying any attention to him. She was thumbing through TIME Magazine, texting, and in general, letting the world know how annoyed she was at being heavily pregnant. A condition which I was sympathetic to, having given birth myself about a week prior.

Zeke’s Mom was uninterested in Zeke – she was letting a Nanny, who Zeke did not know, who was there with other kids, try to get him to sit down. Nanny had an infant in a carriage, so she was distracted and it was hard for her to keep both four year olds contained.

Zeke decided to start hurling the books across the table, because that seemed fun. It seemed fun to him, and to the other little peanut he met there, let’s call her Apple. (I’m choosing Apple because I don’t know Gywneth Paltrow). So there are Zeke and Apple, playing caber toss with children’s books, and on the other end of the table is me, and my little Niece who has two working eyes, which I was hoping she would not lose at the library.

I was keeping a keen eye on Zeke’s physical prowess, which drew the ire of his Mom. Now, it’s interesting to note, she didn’t give a rat’s ass about the fact that her son was behaving in a way that could possibly hurt other kids, nope. What she was concerned about was ME. My eyes specifically. The fact that she looked Caucasian and I do not, may have played into it. She had quite a few things to say about my eyes.

I have been asked if I am Anime

“Why do you keep looking at him!” she said. And, actually, I didn’t know she was talking to me, because I was involved with my niece, and reading to her – only looking up when a book came too close or when the screaming reached higher decibels.

Me: “I’m sorry, are you talking to me?”

Her: “WHY do you keep looking at him? Like, you keep looking at him, rolling your eyes. You should keep those eyes away from him. Don’t you dare roll your eyes at him”.

Me: “I was not rolling my eyes. He’s throwing books, I don’t want her to get hurt, some of them were pretty close”

What she was implying was, that I was rolling my eyes because of her lack of parenting. (And let’s face it, I was – but on the INSIDE because I was way more concerned with ducking that flying copy of  the latest Newberry Award Winner.)

Her: “Oh. That wasn’t what I thought you were going to say.”

Me: “And what did you think I was going to say?”

Her: “Nevermind”

I suppose she thought I was going to yell at her about her lack of parenting in public.  Or perhaps because my niece looks Caucasian and I do not, she assumed that I was the Nanny, and would not dare to speak to one of the Moms. Which happens quite a bit, because my Niece and I have completely different coloring – she is blond and blue eyed, and I…am not. Mom was ready to tell me off, she was gearing up to be confrontational, and honestly, she picked the wrong person.

I frequently joke that I was ‘raised by Gay Wolves’ and if someone sasses me, I am not above a ‘shade throw’ to put them in their place.

Excuse me, Detox, someone would like a word….?

However, I had a 15 month old with me, and my first job was to make sure she made it out of the library in the same condition I brought her in. With both eyes and no bruises. So I just stared her down. Like I thought she was crazier than a rat trapped in a coffee can. I stared so hard I thought I was in a movie about people with extraordinary abilities that are metaphors for being Gay. I was “Storm”.

Hell to the No! Put that book back on the shelf!

She finally moved herself to call Zeke to her side, ostensibly to ‘help’, which it did not – because Zeke began screaming at the top of his lungs. He broke from his mother, grabbed a book, screamed, and then threw it in our general direction. I grabbed my Niece, and a few books, and started to take her to another section.

At which point, that Mom started screaming at me, asking me why I was leaving, when she was trying to ‘help’ by corralling her son.

Soooo many answers ran through my head, and I have watched enough Reality TV to know the ins and outs of table flipping. I had a choice to make, as an Auntie and as a human being – do I take the high road, or do I let his very, very rude woman have it? I wrapped myself in my inner sequined dress, boa, and five inch heels, I levitated with umbrage.

I replied, “I am leaving, because your son is misbehaving. I do not want her to learn that his behavior is acceptable in the library, because it is not. He is throwing books, and you are letting him – which is dangerous. You are texting and reading a magazine. You are not parenting right now, when now is the time to do it. Ostensibly before you have to send him to military school for bad behavior. I am moving her to a safe distance now, Good day.”

I was Dustin Hoffman, dressed as a woman, bidding good day to Dr. Brewster on a mythical soap opera.

I grabbed my Niece and we went to a quieter section and successfully read several stories. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the woman quickly gather her son and loudly take her leave. Yelling the whole time that she was leaving. My Niece and I watched her go.

In retrospect, I think I was more Julia Sugarbaker.

The other lady there, who had been largely silent – the actual Nanny, also gathered up her charges. As she took her kids out, she stopped and looked at me, and gave me a thumbs up.

I pretended that I was Mary Poppins and that while neither of us were ever to speak of this most infamous of days – a day of raised voices in the library, I understood her thumbs up. Spit spot.

Parenting is a job. I know, because I have it. On that day in the library, at least one of the Moms was ‘unemployed’.

On a final note – my 15 month old niece can spell. Because I read to her, and spell things when I take her places. She knows what the P-A-R-K is. Also that she likes to S-W-I-M in the P-O-O-L.  I like to think that I teach her something new every time I see her.

On that day, she learned that you do not have to curse to be a B-A-D  A-S-S.

This is what happened to me today, and I thought I would share it.


I enjoy the “Bucks…I’m a caffeinated bit of trouble when I start my day sucking on a green straw – as perhaps you may have noticed when casting a musical in a mythic land….not that I suggest you do that.

I used to be able to get more work done at Starbucks, but lately, every time I go in, someone sits with me, or next to me, and they start talking. I think I just have ‘that face’.

Today I was ‘busy’. I looked ‘busy’.  I had a laptop.  I had a large drink with a green straw that Mayor Bloomberg would have taken away from me (But seriously, Your Honor, it had no sugar, it was just a very large glass) and there were two ladies sitting next to me conversing in another language that I recognized, but do not speak myself. However, they switched at one point to a language that I am familiar with, French, and something about the way I twitched must have given that away, our tables were inches apart. We began speaking.

We exchanged names, but I am not going to share that here – because there is a safety issue for one of the women. Let’s call them Dolly and Molly, after Dolly Levi and the Unsinkable Molly Brown.

They were very excited to talk to me once they realized that I was a ‘real American’. They thought I was European because of the way I look,  and because I understood a smattering of French. After they asked about my heritage and what I ‘identified as” (I replied “New Yorker”), the next question Dolly asked me was one that has plagued women as long as there have been women and men – “Why do men cheat?”.

I gave some opinions, they gave theirs.  I said, “Well, I never really understood cheating, because if you are unhappy enough to cheat, then be honest about it and divorce”, at which point the Dolly pointed to her friend and said, “Like her, she divorcing now, very bad.” I said I was sorry to hear that.  Molly looked at me and said, “It’s like…movie with J. Lo, you know? With the boxing? And there is one with Julia Roberts, same thing. Like me.”

The films Molly referenced are both about women running away from abusive spouses and having to hide. The whole conversation then changed, it became at once specific, and at the same time, universal.

Molly was not from America, and she was trying to divorce her husband. I say trying, because her husband was refusing to recognize that she wanted to leave. He had taken the children (2 teen girls and a young boy) back to his country of origin. She had left with one suitcase, and taken no jewelery, no money – just her suitcase and their children. She had taken out a restraining order in the United States. However because she had been with her husband since she was twenty, and because he is, as many domestic abusers are, very persuasive, he had been able to convince her that she did not need a restraining order, after all, he was in another country, right?

The minute the restraining order was lifted, he came in the middle of the night and took the children back to his Country. There was nothing she could do. Throughout their marriage, Molly was subjected to extensive physical abuse, because, until the birth of her son a few years ago, she had ‘only’ produced daughters. This led to her husband buying a house and a Mercedes for his Mistress, and installing her a short distance away from their home, which shamed her in front of her neighbors.

He told her, “If I cannot get a son from you, she will give me one.” Even after Molly gave birth to their son, he kept his Mistress. He continued to beat his wife. Had anyone looked closely at Molly, they would see a small groove on her cheekbone. She fills it in with makeup.  When I have seen that kind of mark before, it has been from being struck by someone wearing a ring, although I do not know if that is the cause in Molly’s case. Molly is now in her late 30’s.

I asked if she was working with a lawyer here, and she told me she was. Dolly was with a Human Rights Organization, and was very supportive – they shared an ethnicity. Dolly told me, even though she has returned to her country of origin for trips, she no longer ‘identifies’ herself that way. She told me that ‘Education is freedom’ and that her greatest wish is for women everywhere to educate themselves so that they only would marry if they fell in love and he was ‘a good man’. Molly said she would like to find a good man, and smiled when she called her husband, her ‘Ex”. It took her about a half an hour before she stopped saying “My Husband” and switched to “My Ex”.

Dolly pointed to her friend and said “Look, look at her, see how beautiful? Why? Who would not love to have this woman as their wife?”. Molly has a chic haircut, wore a beautiful dress, heels, no jewelery, and her face was beautifully made up. To look at her, you would think she is a ‘typical’ Los Angeles dweller, upwardly mobile and able to spend six bucks on a blended drink without thinking about it. She shared so much, I wondered if she would regret it later, but in listening to her  I realized that, on many levels, she ‘needed’ to be heard, she ‘needed’ to be seen.

She told me that her Husband was very wealthy,  very well respected in his Country. For Molly to have left him is a huge insult, and she is afraid. She is afraid for herself and for her two daughters, who are nearing teenage years. Her Husband could tell them anything about her and then marry them off to men who are just like him. He has cut off any support, she is on her own. When she first tried to leave, he had her committed to an Insane Asylum, so that her ‘word’ was no longer ‘good’ with anyone who knew them. Her son is very young, and will likely forget her if she does not return.

Molly hopes that her children will understand, but she knows she might never see them again. When she went to the restroom, I asked Dolly if she had a way to support herself. Dolly said Molly is in college, and they are giving her a place to stay, and support and so on. She said that they are going to help Molly fight for her education and her children.

When we parted, I wished them so much luck. Dolly thanked me for listening, she told me I was ‘A very nice lady, educated, you see? Educated, very good.” They both told me, repeatedly throughout the conversation, how happy they were to be in America. How much they admired American women.

I know I am going to think of them often. I am unlikely to forget Molly’s face or her circumstances. I would love to punch her husband ‘in the kisser’, as we say in New York. Not that violence solves anything, but I would love to. It would make ME feel better, because hearing this story, my emotions were…well, all over the place is putting it mildly.

Some last thoughts about Molly, she deserves to have them said – she is absolutely gorgeous, non Muslim, and fluent in several languages – in case you thought you knew where she was from. I am also hoping, that she is like the nickname I gave her for this posting, unsinkable.

Here in the States, we’ve been hearing quite a lot about the “War on Women”. Listening to Molly, was a sobering reminder that in many parts of the world, women are not even part of the discussion.

In 2009, the Dalai Lama said “The World will be saved by Western Women.”

Let us hope so.

The Fairy Princess has been notably absent from the world wide interweb for a few weeks – which in cyber space is a time as lengthy as it takes a child to grow. I was too sad  to write, but eventually, I did get to thinking that it’s time that I took a stand on a key issue plaguing our fair nation. There has been huge debate. It is time I stood up…

I’m just going to say it. Get ready….

I watch Honey Boo Boo.

The one, the only Honey Boo Boo

There, I said it. I know you are all supposing I laugh at “A Dolla Makes Me Holla” type comments, and I do –  but not for the reasons you might think. I laugh, because Alana has a rampant amount joy in her, and that Family loves one another and has a great time.

The Fairy Princess like happy families, and if they are happy families who do pageants and dumpster dives,  so be it. Maybe, having just lost my Dad, I am getting more pleasure than I would have thought possible at watching a Family who gets along. What fun to watch an Actually Real Housewife! I mean, who wouldn’t enjoy a Teen Mom who is not smacking around her Baby Daddy on MTV while trying to juggle a possible modeling career and defending her breast implants?

There are no breast implants on Honey Boo Boo…though, it IS only the first season.

Look at Glitzy ‘hoggin’ the middle of the photo

In HBB world,  Momma June sometimes rolls out a tarp and makes a mud pit at the end of it with a hose, so her kids can slip and slide in the crazy hotness of a Georgia summer.  I am a Mom now, and if my son came and asked me for a slippery slide, I would move heaven and earth to get him one – even if the earth was in my flowerbed and eventually became ooze that infiltrated every fiber of the Berber carpet. He wants mud, he gets mud.

I also love that Momma June Shannon is making Kris Jenner k-rap her pants with the thought that they may ‘out ratings‘ the giant K! (Kris Jenner would never make a mud pit in her Calabasas Castle of K, unless she thought throwing Kim and Kanye in it would result in K-illions of dollars.) Kris does not find Honey Boo Boo very K-lassy. Not having Kris Kommendation  keeps Honey Boo Boo up past kurfew….nah, her bedtime is probably at 8pm.

The Shannons have a crazy house, but no crazier than any other house I have been to in my world travels, so….if Alana wants to have a gay mini-pig named Glitzy who does pageants with her, well slap that piglet into a tiara and let’s go! (Alas Glitzy had to go, because there was a Grandbaby coming, farewell Glitzy, we hardly knew ye)

If what makes people uncomfortable about the show is that, as Alana says herself, they are fat, well…so what? As Christmas Eve from Avenue Q says, “People come in all shapes and sizes”.

Rod wants you to REGISTER!

I love that Momma June knows she’s a catch – she’s pretty sure that she’s going to clean up real nice as soon as she ‘slaps some paint on this ol’ barn’.  I wish I was as confident as Momma June. See that? We can learn confidence from a 307 lb mother of four, who lives with her Baby Daddy in rural Georgia. Truly, she has more energy than I, and definitely better math, because Extreme Couponing? Couldn’t do it. Not in a million years.

I love Big Ang too. Big Ang would never whack anyone, I know that in my heart. Even if she went to, her spray tan would make the weapon slippery and she would rather do shots at the Drunken Monkey anyway. No, Big Ang would not whack anyone, I know that in my heart. (Karen or Renee, I’m not so sure about)

I am hitting The Drunken Monkey next time I’m on Staten Island

I have heard quite a lot, lately, about what makes a Family. Apparently we are allowed to judge on major television networks and in sound bites. The Fairy Princess does not enjoy this part of the electoral process.

Judging should be isolated to Talent Shows and Olympic Events. Those are things where there can be a clear winner – did Ussain Bolt come in first? Why yes he did, so…HE WINS! End of story. Kelly Clarkson sang her face off,  while that guy with the curly hair…had curly hair. KELLY WINS! End of story. (I gave up on AI after the first season)

The Fairy Princess has a very low view of those who would render Families asunder, based on who the Parents love. It was not so long ago in our Country, that a marriage between members of different races was illegal. Which would have made a difference to me, cuz, well…

I’m around 1 in this, don’t hate, appreciate.

And of course, would have been a bit of an issue for this guy:

Cool even then…

Who then became THIS guy:

The President of the United States

My point, and I do have one, is that people are programmed to love, but as Rogers & Hammerstein told us in South Pacific, to hate you ‘Have to be carefully taught“.

Love is not a reality show, no matter how many times MTV, VH-1, or ABC try to make us think so.

No, I will NOT accept this rose! This rose is unacceptable!

Honey Boo Boo’s Family sometimes does Extreme Couponing and sometimes they do Pageants. S’all good – sometimes I sing show tunes and wear glittery dresses, and sometimes I scrub the toilet while yelling at my Husband about his aim, that is not the point. The point is that Honey Boo Boo is one kind of Family, and my Husband and Son and I are another. I would consider them both equal.

The Fairy Princess has read, but does not rule her life by a Book that had more Ghost Writers than a Tom Cruise Press Release. The Fairy Princess would not take kindly to stoning anyone. (Unless they were unkind to children or animals – but I would probably call Big Ang for referrals).

There can be inspiration without condemnation.

The Fairy Princess believes in Families, and in Love, and in Science – and they are all compatible beliefs. The Fairy Princess, overwhelmingly believes in the practice of  compassion and generosity of spirit – and that Families come in all shapes and sizes.  Saying that one kind of Family is ‘first’ and using it to lambast another kind of Family is to deny what is most important about the word “Family”, and that is Love.

The Fairy Princess asks, as you vote this November, to please remember  that no matter what ‘differences’ you may see or believe there are between us, we are not all that different when you get past the surface –

We all put our tiaras on, one cubic zirconia at a time, don’t we?