The stuff that dreams are made of...

Time and time again, we are fed the same stories.

Be they on television, in literature, or even worse, in our friend's and family's lives, we are confronted with fairy tales. Grand narratives of two people meeting in the most unlikely way, and finally getting into something good.

The first notions of fairy tales are planted in the most impressionable minds, specifically children. The prince on the horse in your fairy tale rides into your life, slays the opposition, hitches you on back of him and rides off into the sunset. This gets backed up in the teenage years, with MTV feeding constant crap about chic teens finding romance amongst their peers at school. Finally it starts happening to your friends and family, the stories told around the camp fire or at holidays about how they met and how different life has been for the past few months.

And I'm not even talking 'true love' here. I'm just talking about a boyfriend.

I am left with the pessimistic notion that Mother Goose got it wrong, and that these inconsistent random-acts-of-God are just that, completely random. So, do fairy tales really come true?

I don't need to tell you all about the vast number of us who are sexually frustrated, relationship deprived or painfully single. For whatever reason, we are not able to meet the 'right person', or at times meet 'any person' who gives us the slightest pull of attraction. We trudge through life, either having random sexual encounters because we can, or simply not having any sex or meeting any randoms at all.

Some days we play the defiant role, thumbing our noses at Fate and laughing at our misfortunes. After all, the life of a single is so satisfying! We can eat what and when we please, sleep as long as we want, are free to make whatever evening plans we see fit, and can go home with practically anyone with only our sometimes-disapproving friends to deal with.

Most days, we sing a different tune. While coupledom can seem as oppressive as a Hitler-type dictatorial system, ultimately the pros outweigh the cons. After all, if you're hot for the boy you're seeing, why would it matter when you eat, or where, or what you do that night, or what time he rolls you over in the morning?

This is all somewhat (very) biased, because I am cycling into another I-hate-being-single phase. It irks me, sending thoughts of inadequacy dancing through my head, and sometimes spews venomous comments at people who are happily coupled (those bastards). So my rosy outlook on happy couples is somewhat unwarranted and heavily romanticized.

But it's just so difficult, when one is in this mood, to hear the most amazing stories of others and their sudden and often unexpected happiness. When you're at peace with being single, it simply makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and you find yourself whispering softly to yourself, "Isn't that sweet for them!" (Either way, be you envious of them or overcome with tears of joy for them, the undercurrent of congratulations and goodwill towards them remains the same.)

Case in point #1: a certain blogger named Tim who's fairytale romance with his boyfriend started even before he was out. Just as he's coming to grips with the whole gay thing, he finds out the cute boy from across the hall has a thing for Tim. Add some amazingly-well-timed social events, as well as some margaritas and a slightly meddling friend who alerts Tim to the whole situation, and magically a new fairytale is born. And still going strong. (Lucky bastard.)

Case in point #2: The Wilde American is living in the wasteland known as Portland, OR. While attending the pride parade, he ends up snapping the photo of a sexy guy in the crowd. What started with a simple, random event turned into a fairytale with enough oomph to make plans to move back to Los Angeles (though not to live together), and pursue both opportunities for love and money on the sunny shoreline.

What do these two cases prove? That indeed, fairy tales not only present themselves, they follow through.

It gives great hope to those of us clutching pillows in our empty beds that someday this may be bestowed upon us, and that we can break the cycle of singledom and unsatisfaction. After all, here is proof that good things indeed happen to good people, when you never expect it. You can breathe a little easier knowing that maybe your number is going to be called soon, and a series of somewhat random events will present themselves and thrust you into scenarios you never dreamed you would be in.

Of course, you snap back to reality. Wait a minute, you say to yourself. What makes you so sure this is going to happen to you anyway? I mean, if you haven't had much luck lately, why will it turn around for you now? This is all just what you said, a fairytale: 'Something That Happens To Other People'.

That is, of course, the angsty-singledom talking. But it does make you wonder. Under what conditions do these fairy tales bud and grow? Are they to be cultivated by years of unhappy and incompatible dates and sexual encounters, becoming frustratedly content in permanent single status? Do you have to plant the seeds yourself, and if so, how? By wildly throwing shells in the garden of your social circles, hoping that one may sprout and grow into something? Or do they simply fall from the sky, something so out of our grasp that we cannot them under any circumstance.

We often approach life with the notion that if you work hard enough, you will be rewarded. You don't like your job, so you try harder than before to get the promotion. Your grades need to be higher, so you put in the extra research to impress your professor. Even if you dislike your body, you make changes in your diet and exercises to get where you want to be. But what about romance? Are there really fairy tales, or are these random acts of happiness that only some get to enjoy?