Tuesday, April 14, 2009

finger-lickin' not-so-good

Princess TF has been thinking a lot about pet peeves, mainly because she's witnessed an excessive amount of paper-licking lately. You know--licking fingers to help flip through papers. Lick fingers, touch paper, lick fingers, touch paper. Is this even helpful? The Princess can honestly say that her spit has never helped her grip anything in her life (she is proud to have successfully avoided the temptation to stick her tongue to a frozen flagpole for 22 winters). It's unnecessary, borderline offensive (a wet willy on paper), and it's got to be a sanitation issue.

In high school, the Princess had to put a lot of effort into controlling her gag reflex when she spotted a smudge of teacher spit at the top of her test paper. Really, Mrs. Krebs? Was it necessary to put her through that?

But it's not Mrs. Krebs' fault. That's the reality of pet peeves--they're just meaningless actions that can unintentionally land you on someone's hit list. The Princess is aware that every time she pops her elbows in a public place (it happens more than you think), someone standing nearby is out for her blood, and not in an attractive Edward Cullen way.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

an error in judgement

Princess Truffle Fluff is feeling very guilty about something. (This is not shocking. Her conscience is militant.) A few days ago, she spotted a girl in the hallway at work who had toilet paper stuck on her shoe. To many, toilet paper on the shoe is a phenomenon that only occurs in cartoons, like slipping on a banana peel. (Really? Has anyone EVER in the history of the world actually slipped on a banana peel?) But there it was in real life: a long, really unfortunate tail of toilet paper trailing behind this girl's penny loafer. (The Princess is not entirely sure what a penny loafer is, but has decided that since it sounds boring and brown that all boring and brown shoes should henceforth be called penny loafers.) It occurred to the Princess that she should say something, perhaps rescue the girl from further embarrassment, but then she thought, no, that would be a weird conversation. The Princess doesn't like weird conversations. So the Princess just said hi, and let the girl walk away, out of the building.

The opportunity to prevent someone from embarrassing themselves in front of the other people they'll see that day is also an opportunity to feel a little awkward yourself. The Princess feels that awkwardness is excruciating and so not as funny as Michael Cera would have us believe. In fact, she has avoided these kinds of opportunities so frequently that now it rarely even occurs to her to say anything at all. For example, if she is eating dinner with a friend, and that person has huge chunk of spinach in his or her teeth, the Princess doesn't say anything. She just stares at the spinach. Later, that person is all, yikes there's spinach in my teeth, why didn't you say anything, and the Princess is like, um, I just didn't think about it.

But she actually thought about saying something to the toilet paper girl. She even turned around twice after deciding not to tell her, and each time decided again not to tell her. It's so unfortunate.