Wednesday, August 18, 2010

princess eats her feelings

Two minutes ago, the Princess ran out of the kitchen yelling, "No, chips! No!" She ran into the bedroom, slammed the door, and turned on E! in hopes that the noise would drown out the "come hither" pleadings of the Ruffles and French onion dip. It then occurred to her that it is potentially strange to scream at Ruffles, which are surely not trying to tempt her. Also she felt bad because that was probably a harsh way to treat the poor Ruffles. (She then wondered what other kinds of things she does when she is alone and not forced to act normal.)

You see, the Princess has a very bossy conscience ("No, chips! No!"), and heartstrings that are usually wound too tight ("poor Ruffles"). These two sides of her create intense inner turmoil on a regular basis. In fact, as a child, the Princess used to keep a chart by her bed so that her stuffed animals could have equal cuddle time. (Princess' sense of personification was out of control and she couldn't bear the thought of any stuffed animal feeling like a loser.) But despite the diligent chart documentation, her bossy conscience insisted that the stuffed animals knew that the stuffed snowman was her secret favorite, and the Princess was traumatized by this every day.

(Tangent: Sister says Princess is doomed to become a hoarder because of the aforementioned sense of personification, which is almost always at a dangerously toxic level. Naturally Princess can’t throw anything away. Her family is understandably irritated.)

So what can Princess do when confronted with the inevitable conscience-heartstrings showdown? She can only do what every proper Princess would: listen to Mum. Princess has the best, sweetest mother in the world, one who would always comfort her by saying things like, “Oh sweetie, why don’t you come over? I made brownies!” or “Why don’t you just drink a coke? That’ll make you feel better.” Last year, during a particularly traumatizing teaching gig, Princess was downing like seven Diet Dr. Peppers a day. Because she needed to COPE. With all that DRAMA. Her students would say obnoxious things to her like, “That stuff is gonna make your babies come out weird.” Princess would give such students the stink eye and then chug another can.

The real pickle is that Princess’ conscience makes her feel bad about the brownie-eating and Diet Dr. Pepper-drinking that was originally intended to dull the internal conflict, and Princess has no choice but to head to refrigerator or pantry again, which eventually sends her back into the same crazy cycle. She is exhausted even explaining the complexity of her issue. And NO ONE WILL LET HER HAVE ANXIETY PILLS. Can you believe this?

You should know that since she began writing this post, she has already made a trip back to the pantry to soothe the scorned Ruffles and cram a few down her throat.

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