I’m throwing a party in my bedroom

I’m throwing a party in my bedroom.

A pity party for me.

I know only selfish people are supposed to have those,

But maybe other than being ugly, stupid, and a coward,

I’m selfish too.

An old geometry book from 1986,

Which looks like it’s been peed on,

Sits on my desk with a penguin pencil and a fresh sheet of notebook paper.

See, I’m supposed to be doing my homework.

Instead, I sit on my lime green bed,

Staring at my cookie monster-blue socks while playing that song “Let Her Cry” by Hootie and the Blowfish,

Singing only the parts I know.

It’s a good song.

Can two people really live happily ever after together,

Like in those stupid Disney movies?

I doubt it.

The fourth Cinderella should be about the part where the Fairy Godmother pays Cinderella a visit and tells her the truth: men are scum.

And then Cinderella wisely runs away in the pumpkin carriage to go file for a divorce.

Isn’t that how it works?

I’m listening to Hootie and the Blowfish because it reminds me of when my parents were still married,

And we’d spend our Saturdays going to Jimmy’s t-ball games,

Where the scores didn’t count,

Coming home,

And pigging out on dad’s barbecue burgers and fries,

And Hootie and the Blowfish played from our entertainment center.

Now no one barbecues burgers anymore,

At least not with Masterpiece Original sauce,

Or plays t-ball because winning is the most important thing,

Or listens to Hootie and the Blowfish,

And my mom sold the entertainment center at a garage sale before we moved.

I dug the Hootie and the Blowfish C.D. out of an old, dusty box in my closet,

Four years later.

Why did we ever stop listening to this?

But I’ll never watch Cinderella ever again,

Even though it was one of my favorite movies.

I refuse to be fed those Disney lies,

That one day Prince Charming will pick me up in a white Ferrari,

And take me to his castle in Beverly Hills.

Because I may desperately swallow them.

Let’s face it.

Prince Charming is just a facade in tights.

Even Cinderella could tell you that.