Permission for Fun


New Blood.

No, dear. How about new Blood lines?  

That sounds much less Zombie Queen or Vampire Princess.  Let’s go with that.  New Bloodlines have been formally welcomed as the newest members of the Mint Julep Queens.

Queen Janet, Suzanne, and Cara (after ages of being notably charming) and after spending a bit of time with our group, decided they like us.  They enjoy our company and we enjoy theirs.  After attending several parties with their sponsor, we invited the three Ladies in Waiting to become crown-wearing, scepter-toting monarchs who absolutely refuse to give up the exciting aspect of girlhood— the ultimate dress-up.  Let’s play Queen!  (Playing Princess is really good training for playing Queen, is it not?) Each is Brave, Wise, Charming, Witty, and on Thursday evening, they got Sashed.

A few months ago, I was feeling pretty sorry for myself, and sorry for the group.  I could plan an event and maybe 12 ladies would show up.  With +thirty members, one third is not a participation rate I am satisfied with— so in typically “I darn refuse to give up” fashion I asked co-queens Kim and Sylvia, “What in the world are we to do?”

You wrang your hands and sniveled and wailed, too.  The melodrama is unnessacry.

The voiceinmyhead exaggerates.   And in fact, it was necessary to explain the dire straights the organization was facing.  Either we give up and just remain a small band of a dozen ladies like Robin Hood’s Merry Men (and I do not want to be Little John or Friar Tuck, nor wear tights) or we disband like a bunch of losers.   The choice of growth and expansion  was the most unlikely option, however it was the only option I wanted.  Kim and Sylvia headed the squad of cheering and planning.  Their Ladies in Waiting were first in line for our Tenth Anniversary Coronation and Flounce.  With over twenty females braving the storm, we rocked the Jepson Center.

With help from new generations of exceptional fun-loving ladies with girlish hearts, we decided to blossom. We rise from the ashes like glittery power phoenixes.  I believe our mission is unstoppable.

And what, pray tell is your “mission”?

Don’t play dumb with me, voiceinmyhead.  You know exactly what the mission is.  Give yourself permission to have fun and stop for one instant worrying about being judged.  Give yourself permission to Prance and Dance with abandon and joy.  Give yourself permission to seek out the camera and say, “Hey, you!  Take MY picture! I am here.” Give yourself permission to laugh really loudly and giggle non-stop for longer that most well-mannered belles ever thought they could.  Give yourself permission to be grateful that you have eccentricities that turn out to be your gifts and you need to magnify them, not hide them. Give yourself permission to no longer be the judge and jury of others and most of all, of yourself.

Fun is fun and if it ain’t fun, honey, don’t do it.   Being Royal does not hurt a single soul, my dear little crowder pea.  What hurts is wanting desperately to wear a tiara and never, ever gathering the gumption to do it. 


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