I wouldn’t say Bryan and I have hobbies per se. We don’t really collect things. So I have no idea why beginning my freshman year in high school, I began a lifelong obsession with Disney’s version of The Little Mermaid. Or is it a fetish?
I am not sure what hooked me. At first I tried to identify with the plight of the Ariel. Maybe I too longed to be out of my constricted bondage and in to a free world. It was my personal feminist manifesto. Two problems. First is that my life was pretty good and I wasn’t really constricted at all. Second is that Ariel is actually the classic sell-out. She claims to long to live in a world where she can have legs… but really she wants to marry a human, Eric. And also, the ocean is just as big a world as land, if not bigger- so what’s the diff. She wasn’t actually oppressed and neither was I. She’s just so damn cute and the merchandise started pouring into our home.
When I shipped off to college in 1994 I brought my Little Mermaid linens and comforter with me. A normal person might worry this would send the wrong message to a dorm-full of wild partying 18 year-olds. Luckily, I was able to pull off the irony, especially when my roommate decked her half of the room out in black and a poster homage to Nine Inch Nails. We were the pair.
My Little Mermaid collection now lives in one of the closets at my mom’s house. Not sure how much she appreciates it (see here). It didn’t so much travel to NY or London with me. But my friends who know me from way back when are aware of this sick little aspect of my personality and that’s why the other day Tosha surprised me with this package in the mail/post:
And I love them. And of course will not use them. And it made me realize that little pieces of my girl Ariel made it all the way across the ocean with me. Lurking in all parts of the flat. If I ever have a girl, she is in major trouble.
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Tomorrow we leave for a long weekend in Devon. And then when we get back on Tuesday my dad and stepmom arrive for a 10-day visit. Our flat is a busy place but if they pay their way in daily home-cooked meals, you won’t hear a peep out of me.
