I gotta say, it seems like a lot more than 300 years have passed since that old bat cursed me. Lessons learned, indeed! I’ve definitely seen a lot since that day in her cottage in the woods — I mean, you wouldn’t believe some of it if I told you. Which was her point, I guess.
By now I’ve pretty much done it all. When that old witch said she’d show me how others lived, she wasn’t kidding. I’ve lived lives I didn’t even know could exist — 53 of them, to be exact. I’ve sailed the world as a pirate and scrubbed floors as a chambermaid. Detassled corn in the midwest and flown on a trapeze under the Big Top.
Oh, I’m sorry, are you not following? Daphne, stuck-up petite noblesse who got knocked the f out by a bitter old witch so she could learn a lesson or two?
That bitch was me.
No one’s called me Daphne in a loooong while, though. They call me Sexy Bitch now — who knows for how long. I’ve been in this body for almost 30 years! Three decades is a long-ass time for a girl to be standing on her feet with her freaking arm at her ear inches from sweeping her wig off and her hip awkwardly jutted forward. But, the last three years have been pretty fun: I’ve been slinging vintage clothing as a model in the window of Miss Master’s Closet here in Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn. It was rough going when I first turned into a mannequin, though. Stuck vogueing in the most uncomfortable position possible, and completely shut out of all the rights to the movie that was supposed to be about my life. I’m sure you’ve seen it. With Samantha Jones and the nerdy guy from the Brat Pack? …Yeah, I thought so. So screwed up that I didn’t see a cent’s worth of royalties.
Yet, who’s complaining? Not yours truly. It’s not so bad these days. There’s a new man in my life (in the window of the shop, you may have noticed). It’s pretty fun working as a blogtrix, too. And trust me: I’ve got plenty of stories to tell. So stick around…