The Queen's Court at Aes Sidhe

i am making new friends.

there's the Street Cleaner, the Maharajah, the Social P, The Other White Meat, and The Real Megillah.

no, those aren't their real names, silly rabbit, nor are they self-assigned avatars. these are the names i have dubbed them, squires one and all in my Court of Curiosity. i assure you in real life they have regular names like bob, or joe, or bronx mowgli (srsly. who names their kid bronx mowgli? i'm looking at you, ashlee simpson, and it's a wicked scowl). but here in the kingdom of Aes Sidhe, they go by the names i have given.  i couldn't ID them here if i wanted to; imagine my horror if one should read my writings one day and recognize himself here?  i would be ashamed, he would probably be angry, and with good reason he would storm out of this Court. sayonara, Queen Crazy!

the quickest way for a single woman to introduce herself to new friends of the opposite sex is via online connections, i have discovered. and for the purposes of full disclosure i announce to all the world that a few of the aforementioned individuals fall into this category.

it began with Street Cleaner, a gentle man of a certain age who was the first to approach but not frighten me.  his attempts to woo were clumsy at best, but rather than embarrass an already self-conscious fellow, i chose instead to turn the rapidly failing courtship into kindly friendship. we now imagine ourselves to be confederates lashed together on a tiny ship in the middle of a vast ocean during a typhoon. i like having a friend i can hang onto during the storm; it makes me less fearful of drowning.

then there is Rajah, a self-described playboy of foreign descent who has flung himself into the belly of the Americana Beast and sits on his throne of digital media. he is a clever sort, but not cleverer than me.  i pose a challenge to his otherwise self-involved world, ergo i intrigue him. it won't be long before i merely piss him off. but you know me too well: you know i don't like pufferfish, so i'm going to keep poking him at inappropriate moments so that he blows himself right out of the water. in a certain light, Rajah reminds me of Judas. maybe that's why i keep jabbing.

Social P is kind and brilliant, a nut i cannot crack. his mind races and it's both a pleasure and a pain to listen to his mouth try to keep up.  P's failing is simply this: where i look and find perfection in every individual i have ever met, P seeks perfection and comes away with only the flaws.  i don't know yet whether he does this as a sort of defense mechanism, in the vein of "i'm not worthy myself so i'm going to make every woman i meet unworthy of me somehow". i feel bad for P. if he continues to follow this path, he will never find a right-minded companion because he keeps tossing potentials to the side without fully opening the package.  it's as if every day is Christmas and women are all wrapped gifts. P shakes each box near his ear, tears off a corner of paper, and declares "bah! these are socks!" and moves on to the next gift. problem is, P imagines every womangift is another pair of socks while he rummages thru the finite pile looking for the XBox. i keep him around court to see whether or not he finds her. i'm rooting for him, i really am.

at your queen's right is seated for her viewing pleasure The Other White Meat; at her left reclines The Real Megillah. each one is exciting and perfect in his own way.  i am intrigued. so intrigued, in fact, that i will pay each homage by dedicating a separate entry.  two princes in a otherwise dull court.  Yowza!

"Wasting time I stand and speak of my one regret: I haven't burnt this map of memories yet
pointing to X marks the spot. I have all I want at X Marks the spot" ~Humanwine