Super Sonic   +  shameless self promotion

The Department of Fairy Trading

Tinkle tinkle,

I mentioned a while back (approximately two to three weeks ago) that I had registered my existence as a 'fey' with the Supernatural Registration Authority (SRA). It's a free service that allows you to register your good self; be you vampire, witch, totally cool Justin Beiber fan, werewolf, troll, MySpace user or any other form of mythical creature.

Anyboo. Because I have the word 'Sucker' written across my forehead in bright red Posca pen, I paid $5 to have a an official registration certificate mailed to me. The Man was fairy very muchly less than impressed, but let's ignore that and carry on. I felt like even more of a sucker when I realised you could get a certificate online and just print the freaking thing out for free. I had the good sense not to tell the Man about that discovery.

Which was most fortunate, because when the the official certificate showed up in the mail it was completely slightly different to the online one. Crisis of Wife Guilt averted. Kinda.

Click to make it bigger...

Whatever. I now have a completely useless, totally awesome piece of paper that states that I am, in fact, fey. Just like my mother always said I was. The oh-so-witty Glen demanded photographic evidence that I am, in fact, a fairy. I don't need a photo, Glen, I have a certificate. Ahhh, Glen. You underestimate me.

*Tinkle* *poof* *Puff of smoke* ....and here is Lori, all fairy-fied. Or Lily Petal, as was my fairy alias when I was doing kid's parties*.

I have, in my time, been everything from a clown to a fairy to a witch to a mermaid to a pirate to Cinderella- no, wait, she's copyright- Princess Ella and a Bratz doll Disco Diva. And, no, I don't have photos of most of those, thanks very much for asking. This was all waaaaaay back in the day when digital cameras were still fairy very expensive and confusing. Tracking down the fairy photo took grueling hours a good twenty minutes of searching* through these things called 'photo albums' where people actually keep printed out copies of the photos they've taken. And there is no button that says "Share" or "Upload". Trust me. I spent ages looking for it. Really. Not. Or something.

So.. erm.. there you go. I'm losing the plot. I'm a fairy.

*Doing children's parties, is, by the way, completely outlawed by the SRA anyway, according to the fine print on my certificate. Now they tell me. It also clearly states here that I am over 150 years old. Looking damn good for my age.

Clickety cliak again, nanna-eyes. Who's 154 years old here, you or me?

**Whilst searching through piles of those old fashioned, slightly stinky things called 'photo albums' looking for this photo, the Man had the balls to tell me that I'm becoming awfully narcissistic, posting photos of myself on my blog all the time. This is undeniably, shamelessly true.