Saturday, December 10, 2011

In which Princess attempts to dispense hair advice...

As you may or may not know, atop Princess' head rests a nest of defiance. This "hair," as some like to call it, has provided Princess with plenty of angst throughout the years (also referenced here), and as a result, she has hoarded many pieces of valuable advice that she would like to pass on to her dear reader(s). Pay attention, class:
  1. Always check the weather. If there is more than a one percent chance of humidity, or more than a one percent chance that you'll walk into a greenhouse, DO NOT make an attempt to straighten your hair. This will result in waisted vanity and excessive fluffiness.
  2. Go ahead and warn your stylist about the fact that you have enough hair for yourself and to make wigs for all the baldies in a 10 mile radius. She will appreciate the fact that you don't totally throw off her schedule and she'll be prepared with 3x the average amount of hair dye in case you are dying it.
  3. Do not blow dry your hair with a fan.
  4. Don't demand medication when you break (another) brush. Life goes on.
  5. When you have a bad hair day, treat your hair the way you would a misbehaving boyfriend: silent treatment. Ignore those strands of rebellion no matter how desperately they demand your attention. Latching onto random people's zippers and getting caught in car windows? Please. Focusing on that will ruin you day. Instead think happy thoughts of cupcakes and buzz cuts. 
And a tutorial, to take you from middle school nightmare hair to yes-you-may-go-out-in-public-if-it's-not-going-to-rain hair. (Coordinating pictures go clockwise.)
  1. Begin. You look crazy, but embrace it! This is the real you and you can use it to terrify people whenever you want. Hooray!
  2. Straighten! This may take up to an hour and will give you an odd callus on your thumb. This is meant to be accepted, not understood.
  3. Curlers! You may look like a grandma and you may realize that none of your friends use curlers, but you will because lets face it, those ends are not going to straighten.
  4. Remove! Take the curlers out. You missed the one in the back. (You're welcome.)

Saturday, September 24, 2011

the research paper strikes again

Images from
Princess teaches middle schoolers, who, if you did not know, are a unique breed of human. Princess’ favorite thing about middle schoolers is that they can be excited about EVER.Y.THING., as long as it is presented properly.

Enter The Research Paper. Experience has taught Princess that The Research Paper regularly makes students break out in hives and has probably left many teachers with a substance abuse problem. This was the challenge for last year's class: Introduce The Research Paper and do it in such a way that overly-excitable students will accidentally think that it will be FUN. Evil? Princess doesn’t think so. (For example, if you ever get a bad haircut, Princess will NOT tell you it is bad, because there’s nothing you can do après le “chop,” and you might as well enjoy it in ignorance. Princess applies this same it’s-bad-but-we-should-pretend-it’s-good philosophy to any difficult assignments in her class.)

For The Research Paper, Princess chose a ridiculous topic that would both fascinate and disgust her students: RODENTS. (In middle school, there is a positive correlation between the grossness of an assignment’s topic and the enthusiasm with which a student approaches the assignment.) The assignment was to write a comparing/contrasting piece on the world’s smallest rodent (pygmy jerboa: size of a golfball, hops on two feet like a kangaroo, simultaneously adorable and disturbing) and the world’s largest rodent (capybara: size of a large dog, can be kept as a pet, simultaneously adorable and disturbing).

This is what happened when she presented the assignment:

Princess: And here is a picture of Caplin! He’s a capybara that lives in Texas and you can be his friend on Facebook.
Class: He’s so cute! We love him!
Princess: Here’s a video of Caplin swimming in a pool!
Class: WE LOVE HIM!!
Random few students: Gross. We hate him, yet still want to google him.
Princess: Great idea! Let’s research him online, and we can write down important facts that we learn.
Class: YAY!!
Princess: Look, here’s Caplin’s website. You can buy one of these stuffed capybaras and the money goes to pay Caplin’s medical bills.
Class: Let’s buy one! We want to buy one!
Princess: Great! I actually bought one yesterday and he’s on the way! We helped pay Caplin’s medical bills—isn’t that a good feeling?
Class: Yes! We love research papers!
Random smart student: Why does Caplin’s website say 7/10/2007 – 1/04/2011?
Princess: Silence. Wide eyes.
Class: Mrs. Princess!! Tell us!! Is Caplin okay?!?! We are flipping out!
Princess: Um. I think Caplin died. Yesterday.
Class: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA/mass devastation/gnashing of teeth
Princess (to herself): I knew research papers were evil.

-5 minutes of silence/holding back tears-

Princess: And this is why it's important to include the date we access a website in our MLA citation.

Now for the good news:
  1. The students did an AMAZING job on their papers (average grade was a 93!) and were superstars about citing their sources and producing quality writing. Princess was very proud and believes they did it in honor of Caplin.
  2. The stuffed capybara still sits on the file cabinet, and is dearly loved by the students.
  3. Caplin’s family adopted a new capybara named Garibaldi. You can read about him at
  4. Princess is considering a different topic for this year’s research paper.

Thursday, September 15, 2011


Does Princess REALLY need to witness Mufasa die in 3-D?? Did this particular scene not scar her severely enough in 2-D twelve years ago? Would Disney also like kill Bambi's mom again and maybe make a new movie about Anne Frank, Amelia Earhart (WHERE IS SHE!?!?!), and Chandra Levy (NEVER GO RUNNING IN THE PARK!!!) and include "Butterfly Kisses" and "Christmas Shoes" on the soundtrack? Because then perhaps Princess would NEVER STOP CRYING and fearing for her life.

Princess apologizes for the excess caps-lock-ing. It is a stress-induced condition requiring Chick-fil-A or salted caramel.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

a blunderful day

An account of the day’s many mishaps:

7 a.m.                On the morning drive to work, Princess’ hair somehow landed into her chocolate protein drink, which then dribbled all over the shirt and skirt she IRONED, which is a big deal. She spent the drive desperately screaming at her Tide-To-Go pen (“IS THAT ALL YOU’VE GOT!?!?”) and furiously scrubbing away the stains at red lights.
7:30 a.m.          Princess obtained permission to go home and change. One cannot look a fool in front of middle schoolers, as they enjoy POINTING OUT MISFORTUNES.
8:20 a.m.          Princess decides that maybe today is the day that her taste buds will finally accept coffee. She pours herself a cup, sweetens it with cinnamon, and takes a sip. Her resulting gag and look of disgust are misinterpreted by someone else in the room as a rejection of what the person was just talking about. Princess explains, no, it’s not you. It’s the coffee. Princess washes out her mug and makes green tea.
2:30 p.m.          Princess finally finishes grading a giant stack of papers, and with carefree accomplishment, tosses her bright blue grading pin into what she believes to the mug where she keeps her pens. Curiously, she heard a splash. Princess then inferred that,  no that is not the pen mug. It’s the mug of green tea that she never ended up drinking anyway. She rescues her drowning pen, and watches as the inky tea begins to discolor her fingers and turn her into an Avatar.

UPDATE: At 6:15 p.m., Princess got in her car to go home and literally pulled the door handle off of her car.
Time for bed.

Thursday, August 4, 2011


Snooty literaries will attest that Romeo was speaking of the seemingly bipolar agony/bliss of his love towards Rosaline. (Yes, remember her, Romeo? You like looooved her more than anything and then married/killed yourself over Juliet mere days later? Real cool.) But Princess knows that this passage is better applied to her current state of mind over Celtic Woman.

If you’ve turned on PBS lately (maybe the cable went out), you’ve likely seen the Celtic Woman phenomenon, and chances are, you reacted like Princess: thoroughly annoyed yet captivated and unable to change the channel. O loving hate! Or as Beyonce more eloquently put it, "Is this a sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare?"

Celtic Woman makes Princess’ skin crawl and sprit soar simultaneously, much to her chagrin. It’s like, the twitchy blonde fiddle player makes her so ANGRY and sends her head spinning with endless questions. (Why is she twitching? Does her neck hurt after a performance? Is she really attractive or sort of ugly? Does she think she is a fairy? Is she the kind of person that spells fairy like “faeire”? Does she speak elvish? Does she take clogging lessons?) Then, those perfectly harmonized corsets saunter out, all hip sways and mermaid skirts and Princess’ has to bang her head on the wall to stop the questions. (How serious is their Lord of the Rings obsession? How many corsets do they own? Do they have to share corsets? Are they hitting notes that only dogs can hear? Do they like the fiddler girl or are they jealous because she gets to dance? Are they jealous of Enya? Who has the biggest dressing room?) All the songs are interspersed with odd Irish landscape scenes and shots of the percussionists wearing sleeveless shirts. The latter image in particular usually brings Princess’ questions to a screeching halt, in only the way that a ponytailed man in a sleeveless shirt can.

Still, even with all the questions and the ponytails, Princess can’t bring herself to change the channel because it’s like the fairies have put a mystical spell on her, and she finds herself looking up the tour schedule to see when they’re coming to town. WHAT IS THIS?!?! Oh Romeo, what truth you speak! This love feel I, that feel no love in this.

Dost thou not laugh?

No, really, if you want to laugh and/or find a name that will help you fit in with the Celtic Woman crowd should you ever find yourself at an Irish castle in an empire waist dress and flowers in your hair, check out this website:

Princess joyously received the following results:

Your fairy is...
Nettle Goblinwand
She brings riches and wealth.
She lives in brambles and blackberry bushes.
She is only seen when the seer holds a four-leafed clover.
She wears purple and green like berries and leaves and has gentle green wings like a butterfly.

Friday, July 22, 2011

crazy eights

Princess has been inexcusably absent, and it may or may not have to do with the fact that she recently discovered her childhood diary and has been dealing with the overbearing anxiety that comes when you encounter your eight-year-old self. (It occurs to Princess that she may likely feel this same way when she stumbles upon this blog fifteen years from now. Have mercy.) If you ever come across the damaging book pictured at your left, do not be fooled by the whimsical serial killer handwriting inside or the pink cover, which features happy giraffes and clocks, which grin devilishly at the secrets inside. (Why this mysterious combination of giraffes and clocks? Princess does not know why, and it bamboozled her eight-year-old self as much as it now bamboozles her 8x3-year-old self. [Eight times three is twenty-four, is it not? Eh, Princess does not care to double-check.])

When Princess cracked open the old familiar cover, her nostalgia soon turned to nausea, which actually happens regularly because, as the faithful readers know (Hi, Brother!), she is a mild hoarder. As she read, Princess re-remembered several things about herself, some of which are traumatizing:

1. She is random.

November 7, 1995
Mom and Dad are gone to England. I miss them already. I’m crying right now. Claire is on my basketball team.
2. She hates to wash her hair.
November 18, 1995
We played. I went to bball practice. We raked leaves. We played. (Sorry I want to doodle.) Today was Saterday. I had to wash my hair. I do not like to do that!
3. She is an optimist.
July 22, 1995
Today I played with Samantha and my puppy. I had fun. Me Phillip and Adeline got in a couple of fights though. Still, I had fun.
4. She loses things.
November 6, 1997
I haven’t written in 1 whole year! I’m sorry. It was because I lost the key. (I still can’t find it but I got it open.) Now I’m in 6th grade. I got braces this April. I’m also going to be in the Nutcracker along w/ Rachel, Tripp, Colin and Phillip! Wow! I am going to try to write you every day.
5. She has excessive guilt.
Every other entry begins with this: “Sorry I forgot to write yesterday.” She ALWAYS confessed when she forgot to brush her teeth. (Once this happened two days in a row: January 21 and 22, 1996. Yikes.) Other entries contain doodles, which Princess also apologizes for in writing. Later, she snaps:
November 18, 1997
I’ve changed my mind. I will write in this diary any old time I want to. It’s mine so I can do whatever I want.
6. She is terrified of Anne Frank.
November 24, 1997
I have decided something. This won’t be an ordinary diary. It will be a book. I hope that someday this diary will be famous, like Anne Franks’. (By the way, A.F.’s movie scared me to death and I had horrible nightmares about them which make me turn cold when I think about them.) I’m going to sleep now (it’s 9:31 and 46 sec.) so good night!
7. She is fickle.
May 9, 1996
Today I can’t tell you a lot about my day because I have to tell you about something else. It’s true that Michael likes me. He wanted to ask me out! (That was the secret.) I said yes, but if he’s mean to me or my friends, I WILL dump him.
May 10, 1996
I don’t like Michael.
[Editor's Note: Princess did this to every boyfriend she had until she met Husband/Captain Cuddlecups, who told her how it is.] 
8. She is mean, but not that aware of it.
April 11, 1996 
I need to add Thomas to my prayer list. Many people make fun of him including me. Lowell just likes him because he gives him money. Alyssa too for the same reason.
Apparently Princess is still mean, as just tonight, she laughed at the memory of an old woman getting hit in the head by an umbrella, which fell from the balcony of the theater Princess was sitting in. (The old lady was okay. At least Princess realizes that she's being mean this time, as evidenced by her irrepressible urge to confess to the Internets.) The  theological lesson to be learned from all this: We are instrinsically evil. We have to recognize it and confess it (though not necessarily does this mean the Internet...)
Other memorable diary quotes for your reading pleasure: 
  • “I had a rough day today, but at least I didn’t have handchimes.”
  • “My joke messed up. I am very very mad.”
  • “Today is George Washington’s birthday.”
  • “April babysat us but it doesn’t smell like Christmas!”
  • “I got through the speling bee. I got a medal. I got out on the word abbriviation (i left out an 'i.')"

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

obsessions of an american girl

After reading this flawless analysis of American Girl dolls, Princess was two parts insanely jealous that she did not write it and one part convinced that this writer was her soul sister. Everyone knows Samantha was the undisputed “It Girl” of the American Girls and Princess was obvi obsessed. She regularly fixed Samantha’s hair with her official hair salon set and put her to bed in a Samantha-sized canopy bed. She memorized the catalog, and read all the books, where she learned the world “new-fangled,” a term Samantha’s grandmother condescendingly used to refer to Samantha’s uber-cool Aunt Cordelia. Princess still regularly mourns the fact that Samantha’s friend Nellie had her hair cut short so that it would not get caught in the factory machines. (How horrifying if Samantha’s luxurious locks met such a fate!)

She owned several unofficial Samantha outfits (do you have any idea how much the official outfits cost??), including the child-sized version of the nightgown, which she wore religiously despite the scratchiness because it was very important that Princess and Samantha match at bedtime.

But it wasn’t as simple as being obsessed with the doll—she was insistent that everyone view her and Samantha as one and the same. She snobbishly told more than one person that she would be much more suited to represent Samantha than the model in the catalog. In fact, when the “My American Girl” dolls came out, and every girl scrambled to get her look-alike, Princess made sure everyone knew that she did NOT need to get one because Samantha WAS Princess. (Admittedly, Samantha had bangs, and Princess—glory hallelujah—did not, but Princess coolly disregarded this fact and expected others to do the same.)

She has suffered from similar attitudes towards other characters/people, most notably Kelly Kapowski, an obsession previously mentioned here. Obsessions are collectively referenced in the following probably-not-comprehensive list. [Editor's note: After further examination, the list has been deemed most definitely not comprehensive as Princess has just now recalled her obsession with the girl from Love Actually—she dyed her hair black and bought a red coat to be like her, no big deal—and really, her obsession with Elphaba from Wicked is better left for another time.] Without further ado, The List:
  1. Mary Anne from The Baby-Sitters Club (Rationale: Brown hair, cute boyfriend, sweet to everyone, not into softball like Kristy, whom Princess always suspected was ugly)
  2. Kimberly, the Pink Power Ranger (Rationale: The only other option was Trini, the Yellow Ranger, which = gross.)
  3. Kelly Kapowski from Saved by the Bell (Rationale: Crazy curly-haired perfectionist Jessie Spano? Are you kidding me? Then Princess would have to acknowledge that she is actually exactly like Jessie Spano, and would then have to endure years of therapy and maybe get addicted to caffeine pills.)
  4. Harriet the Spy (Rationale: Kept a journal, liked tomato sandwiches, had cool spy tools (Princess purposefully made herself adopt all of these practices and even had a plaid spy coat. You are jealous.) By the way—Princess did NOT like that Michelle Trachtenberg played Harriet the Spy in the movie and REALLY didn’t like when she ended up being terrible on Gossip Girl.)
  5. Melody from Hey Dude (Rationale: Normally Princess likes to support fellow brunettes, but she was so distracted by the fact that the brunette’s name was Brad. More importantly, Melody was way cuter, and though this made Princess kind of bitter, she abandoned her brown-haired loyalties for the sake of good looks. She’s not proud of this.)
  6. April O’Neil from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Rationale: Wore yellow, was a girl. Furthermore, Princess does not like turtles—although if she had to choose she would pick Raphael—bad guys with studded shoulders, rats, or splinters and definitely not rats named Splinter. The choice was obvious.)
  7. Chuckie from Rugrats (Rationale: Adorable voice, red hair, purple glasses. The total package.)
  8. Ann Curry (Rationale: Usually wears cute coats in the winter, has a soothing voice that makes Princess want to take a nap)
  9. Mary Tyler Moore (Rationale: Cute clothes, friends with Rhoda, married to Dick Van Dyke in another show)
  10. Nancy Drew (Rationale: She seemed like Mary Tyler Moore, only not as stressed.)
And, alternatively, the people Princess never, ever wanted to be:
  1. Dina from Salute Your Shorts (Rationale: Snobby, annoying, mismatched earrings)
  2. Clarissa from Clarissa Explains It All (Rationale: Bad teeth, practiced unwise behavior such as allowing boys—well, okay, just Sam—to climb into her bedroom window with a ladder)
  3. Alex Mack (Rationale: Wore a backwards hat sometimes. Princess despised this so much that she completely overlooked the fact that Alex Mack could morph into a puddle of silver radioactive ooze, which by the way, is completely awesome.)
  4. Meredith Vieira (Rationale: She’s probably not mean, but she seems mean. Also, Princess misses Katie Couric.)
  5. Delilah (Rationale: WORST. RADIO. SHOW. EVER.)
On Princess' list of future endeavors: A thorough analysis of all the BSC girls and possibly Sweet Valley Twins.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

self sabatoge

Those who know Princess personally are aware that she is the biggest rule follower ever, which makes her big-fat boring. She resents quotes like, “Well-behaved women rarely make history,” because it sounds like inverse of her epitaph: “She who lies here was well-behaved, so you probably never heard of her.” (Boo to Spoon River Anthology for making her paranoid about her tombstone.)

But Princess has a secret, and her name is Edith. Edith, who was officially named yesterday, is an alter-ego of sorts. Edith is Princess’ devilishly defiant counterpart, kind of like her black swan side, only not as graceful.

The trouble with Edith is that she doesn’t do defiance right. Her defiance is inconvenient for Princess and doesn’t benefit Princess or Princess’ desire to be in the history books at all. It’s embarrassing.

For example, when Princess and Babs are out on a drive, Edith will take over and refuse to follow specified directions to various destinations, but rather invent the way to get there. It is Edith’s way to stick it to the man, to shake her fist at the computer and shout, “DON’T BOSS ME, MAPQUEST!” Princess/Edith feels deep down that her instincts will guide her in a faster and more interesting way than googling an address (so lame). This proved wrong on several occasions, most notably Princess’ own bridesmaids luncheon, when Edith accidentally went to Arkansas when she most definitely needed to stay in Tennessee. Princess and the out-of-town bridesmaids in Edith’s charge arrived just a teensy bit late and Princess was very irritated with Edith, but soon forgave, as surely she was just riddled with pre-wedding jitters.

Similarly, there are times when Princess is trying to cook and Edith will appear in her head, insisting that her instincts can produce a better meal than any bossy recipe. Husband doesn’t even attempt to hide his disappointment when he comes home to see that crazy Edith look in Princess’ eye. The dish he remembers with the most disdain was a concoction Princess called “Biscuit Chicken Cheese Casserole,” which was previously referenced here. She didn’t think it was all that bad, but the frittata she invented was not even up to Princess’ low, low standards. Defiance is foul.

In high school, Edith was all over the place. Once a boy told Princess that he liked her hair better up, and Edith got really bent out of shape and made Princess wear her hair down for a month, even when it was really hot outside. In choir, Edith never, ever allowed Princess to actually pay attention to what the choir director said OR the notes on the page, so of course Edith then made up her own notes to every song. Princess received countless snarky comments from Type A singers who did not understand Princess’ Edith problem.

When kind-hearted, well-intentioned people try to give Princess instruction regarding technology or football or music theory, Edith whispers irritations into Princess’ ears so that Princess is unable to listen to the instructions and evil Edith gets to figure it all out herself. Husband does NOT like this quality, especially when he explains things like why it’s called a V-8 engine (Princess thought this was some sort of juice) or how his new flashlight is able reach like 20 miles or something (not sure about the length as Princess wasn’t listening).

And seriously, Princess went to an SEC college and pretty much never missed a game, and she still doesn’t understand anything about football, despite the fact that so many people have spent time explaining it to her. Her sister is not helpful in this regard because she announces things like, “Hey everyone! Princess just said, ‘I don’t even know what a fumble is!” And it’s really rude for her to point that out in front of everyone. So Princess would like to remind Sister that like Princess, she once drove to Georgia when she was supposed to stay in Tennessee, so maybe Sister is a lot more like Princess than she ever thought, so stop drinking that Hater-ade.

Monday, April 18, 2011


Princess went to the gym, ate a scrambled egg, beautified herself, stopped by Duncan Donuts for a latte (It was a light latte, haters! The uncharacteristic and freakishly early gym session was not to be undone!), and was at work by 7:15 a.m. At work, she graded three classes of papers (!!  Exclamations to demonstrate the lightning speed with which Princess graded) while actively teaching literary critiques the entire day. Then, she made her grocery list, planned her afternoon adventures, and now she’s writing a blog post. All this to say, Princess is a MACHINE today. And not some kind of worthless machine like Robie, the money-eating robot bank her brother owns, or the disco ball on her desk that is currently one battery short of party time. She is the guy who can play an accordion, harmonica, bongo drums, sing, and run a marathon at one time (although it occurs to Princess that this destroys her machine metaphor, as that man is not a machine, but whatev, Princess can switch mid-metaphor because this blog is HER PARTY and she can metaphor-switch if she wants to).

She can imagine the little gears in her head churning away as she thinks of witty, original blog thoughts that the world needs to hear! Only the gears are losing motivation due to the lack of Diet Dr. Pepper. Picture them with sad, tired faces a la Lisa Turtle when she has to stay up all night making Buddy Bands because Bayside demands them. This conversation is currently taking place in her head (Try to keep up as it is confusing in there):

“It’s [editor’s note: ‘It’ = Dr. Pepper] on the grocery list, gears!” Princess says with an evil Jillian glare. “DO NOT STOP!”

Gears: “But we are le tired! We have been cranking away since 5 a.m. and we are never disturbed at that sacred hour!”

Princess w/ Jillian face: “Do you want some cheese with that whine?!”

G:“No we do not!”

P: “That was rhetorical!”

G: “Also we do not drink on the job! Or really at all. And the yelling is not conducive to a positive work environment.”

P: “Whine—not wine. It’s a pun!”

G: “We changed our mind about the cheese! We like goat cheese! And also gouda!”

P: “No, again, the question was rhetorical! And also not intended to be taken literally! I was not actually offering you cheese, although I am going to the grocery store later and I’m getting some ricotta for the baked ziti. Don’t you remember this as you helped make the list?”

G: “We do not understand these words you use since we are just metal gears!”

P: “Yes, that makes perfect sense, although I am confused about how we were able to have this conversation.”

G: “Just go to the grocery store. Don’t forget the cheese.”

P: “Very bossy. I don’t like your tone.”

G: “Then do not give us a tone! We are a figment of your imagination, obvi.”

P: “Me thinks this is either the beginning of schizophrenia or the beginning of a terrible yet monetarily rewarding movie with Will Smith where machines take over people’s minds. Gears, begin writing screenplay!”

G: “Terrible idea. But okay, we’ll do it.”

P: “Never mind, I have to go to the grocery store.”

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

the naming of names: a timeline

As you likely know, if you’ve read any of Princess’ senseless ramblings, Princess' sense of personification is in overdrive. Yesterday she can recall at least three solid interactions she had with her breakfast banana. The first was that when she picked it up out of the fruit bowl, she answered it like a telephone, as has become her habit. The second was when she peeled it and named it Nanny. The third occurred after she ate it, and had to throw the peel out the window (nourish the grass, Nanny!), and it's octopus-like legs inspired her to change its name to Nannerpuss, after the best Denny's commercial ever, interpreted here by one fabulously artistic coworker:

Princess digresses. The point Princess is trying to make is that this excessive interaction with inanimate objects has caused her to name many, many things in her life. It has contributed greatly to her over-sentimentality to random items (thus ensuring a future of hoarding) and the sense that everything has a soul (though theologically, she does not believe this, especially not in a “Thank you lettuce for dying so that I may have nourishment” way à la Drew Barrymore). Nevertheless, she recommends this type of habit because Princess regularly feels surrounded by friendly faces, except of course when they turn on her. Here is a historical account of her naming abilities:

3 years- Princess has a baby doll she names Baby Angel. Later, Baby Angel loses all the eyelashes on her left eye and begins to look more like a demon than an angel, yet Princess cannot do away with her, because, hello, she has a name and chunking her in the trash would likely hurt her feelings, and Princess can’t live with that.

6 years- Princess begins to wish her name was Tiffany or Crystal, and selects these types of names for her Barbies, especially the red-headed Irish Barbie, who was Princess' favorite, but shhhhh don't tell the others.

8 years- Princess has 10,000 stuffed animals and gives each a name and a personality. Later she gets stressed out because she can’t keep up with all the names and really doesn’t want to hurt their feelings so she begins to keep a chart. As a result, she develops OCD and skills that will later make her a spreadsheet genius.

9 years- Princess, her siblings, and their friends Claire and Abby play dogs, a game that continues for the next four years, despite the fact that Princess and Claire become waaaaay too old for this to be cute. Princess’ dog name is Frankie, and he is a wiener dog. She always felt that this was the best of all the dog names, and obviously, she is right.

10 years- Princess and her brother want to name their new chocolate lab “Champ” because he is their hero. Clever little sister says, “How about Vanilla?” Everyone laughs, except Princess and Brother because they sense that their choice is threatened by this clearly superior idea. The dog is named Vanilla, and it couldn’t have been a more appropriate name. This marks the one and only time Princess has not come up with the best name ever, except for the Snowman incident, which was more of a medical issue than personal failure (see 11 years). It also marks a time for reflection: If Princess has such anxiety over getting rid of Baby Angel, how could she cope with an actual death of an actual animal? Vanilla died last year (after being serenaded by Princess’ original song entitled “Oh Vanilla Eat Some Bacon”) and no one in Princess’ family held it together. They threw a Vanilla Party in his honor and ate hot dogs and vanilla wafers and wore buttons featuring items Vanilla liked to eat (bananas and underwear and the like). This has been added to Princess' list of Stories to Tell on Another Day. Behold, the best dog ever:
11 years- Princess’ appendix inexplicably and dramatically ruptures on her family ski trip and she now matches Madeline, though this is no consolation. Her aunt sends a stuffed snowman to the hospital as a gift. He is the softest, cuddliest, happiest thing she’s ever owned, and she loves him so much and is so traumatized by the situation that all her naming powers are temporarily placed in a jar with the remains of her appendix, and she can only call him Snowman. Later Snowman turned brown and sad and Princess’ brother called him "nasty." Princess hates Brother when she remembers this.

15 years- Princess reads her sister's Mary Kate and Ashley magazine and realizes that her dream job is naming nail polishes. She does not know how to obtain this kind of job, and she is still trying to figure that out. Any advice is appreciated.

16 years- Princess gets her license and begins driving a gold Taurus, which she names Tallulah, because she heard that name in Cool Runnings and she likes alliteration. Tallulah and Princess had many good times together. Later, when she is 20.5-years-old, Princess’ faithful Taurus and Chuck the Duck (the quacking sound that came from Tallulah’s back right door during the last years of her life) die tragically on the side of the interstate. Princess and her friend Allie are picked up by a man they think is from AAA, but is actually just a random tower who saw them stranded. This man, Charles, takes them to the nearest town (Macon, Georgia), where they walk around for an hour trying to find an ATM so they can pay him. The longer story should be told another day, as it is quite the adventure, but suffice it to say, 16 hours later, Princess and Allie, who are too young to rent a car (20.5 instead of 21) and must become creative, finally arrive at their destination. She never saw Tallulah again. Again, Princess has filed this under Stories to Tell Another Day.

18 years- Princess receives an iPod Nano, which she names Nanette. Nanette is still is Princess’ possession and it as adorable as ever, though obviously outdated. (Thank you Apple, for ruining everyone's birthday and Christmas gifts by coming out with new stuff.)

18.5 years- Princess’ then-boyfriend but now-husband gives her a guitar! She is ecstatic and names it Gilly. She practices until people in her dorm ask her to be quiet. Then she gets sad and puts Gilly away. She’s been ignoring her ever since and has major guilt about it, so don’t bring it up. She tried to take lessons last summer to reunite with Gilly but it didn’t work. Here's hoping for this summer! Don't give up on Princess, Gilly. You will be in her arms again soon.

19 years- Princess and her roommate adopt a bizarre plant they inexplicably fall in love with at Wal-Mart. They inexplicably name him (it?) Stanley. Princess paints his home. Stanley is never watered, but survives dorm life, inexplicably.
19.75 years- Dad surprises her with a TV! Princess names it Telly and takes pictures hugging it.

20 years- Princess’ friends surprise her with a pink blender. Princess is ecstatic! Not only because of the color and because it was exactly what she wanted, but because it was a fantastic opportunity for naming. She originally wanted to name it Glenda the Blenda’, as a tribute to Wicked and the appliance’s rosy shade, but for some reason felt drawn to the name Ms. Nancy Bobo, a combination of her friend Ashley’s piano teacher (Ms. Nancy), and Princess’ piano teacher (Ms. Bobo). Princess and Ms. Nancy Bobo have had many good times together. Ms. Nancy Bobo charitably lent her services at Vanilla Party last year, whipping up fantastically tasty vanilla ice cream-based chocolate milkshakes in honor of Vanilla, the best chocolate lab ever. Cheers to you, Ms. Nancy Bobo.
20.75 years- The carless Princess is soon surprised by her dad with her DREAM CAR!!! A silver Volkswagen Beetle she immediately names Babs. The name was sent down from heaven on a dove (okay, not really), and it was a truly glorious moment. Later Princess runs into the people Mum and Dad bought the car from, and the lady’s name? Oh, it’s Babs. (Princess TOLD YOU she was good at this.)

21 years- Princess and Sister met the meanest old lady ever at their grandparent’s retirement home. Her name is Beverly and they make the word a synonym for that other b-word. They enjoy calling people Beverlies, especially their dog Killer, who has an attitude problem. This doesn't really have anything to do with naming people, but Princess doesn't apologize for this because sometimes she doesn't like to follow her own rules.

22 years- Husband forces Princess to get an iPhone, which she is not happy about until she buys a fantastic case. Princess names the phone Ida B. Wells, unaware of how she came up with the name. She googles it and finds out that she was a women's rights activist. Princess hopes Ida would be honored that a phone with a very cute case bears her name.

23 years- Princess’ sister goes away to college and needs to borrow her pink backpack. Princess allows this, but includes a note that describes Jackie the Backpackie’s name and personality and that Sister is to take especially good care of her.

23.5 years- Princess receives a sewing machine for Christmas and names it Betsy, after Betsy Ross, who sewed the first flag. She hopes her favorite Social Studies teacher, Mr. Lando, would be proud of her, although she is unaware whether she memorized this factoid in his class or not.

Today: Princess realized that truthfully, she does not name ALL things. It occurred to her yesterday that she does not name her shoes. And this is weird, because she loves at least three pairs of her shoes quite passionately, and she names all things she loves passionately and even things she only kind of likes. She typically just calls them by their brand or their color, which is annoying because it makes her feel like the kind of girl who says, “So I slid on my Tori Burches, grabbed my Louie, sprayed on some Marc Jacobs, and sped away in the BMW so I wouldn’t be late for Junior League.” [Sidenote: Young children from wealthy families typically know three times as many words as children in poverty because they hear sentences like these rather than “I put on my shoes and got in the car.” So in a sense, it’s a valuable way to talk as long as you don’t raise a tribe of snobs.] Princess is currently working on non-elitist names for her shoes, which should not be that hard since most of them aren't that expensive thanks to Target.

Thursday, March 31, 2011

fancy free

EEEEEE!! Princess is ecstatic. She came home from a rather strange trip to Party City, flipped on the telly, and then all her dreams came true. She saw "Mobbed"—a show of people dancing and singing in the street like they were straight out of Enchanted or Hairspray, except this was REAL LIFE. REAL LIFE DANCING AND SINGING!!! In the street! With lights and fountains bursting forth during the climactic part of the song! Obvi, this is Princess’ ultimate fancy for two reasons in particular:

1. If you spent any time at all in Princess’ head, you would realize how difficult it is for her to not burst into barrel turns and grand jeté en tournant when Pandora selects particularly fab music during a run. The only thing that stops her is the fact that her students regularly report to her when they see her running and she just doesn’t need to give them more material with which to mock her. (Surely they have enough, since earlier this week she helped them understand dependent and independent clauses by comparing them to Sister Wives and Cody, respectively. She can explain this theory in detail some other time.)

2. Even though she’s partially bitter that her husband had Babs’ windows illegally tinted, she is also grateful for it because she can perform Bruno Mars and Wicked to her heart’s content and the cars next to her at red lights aren’t able to cast judgmental/terrified glares. Last Wednesday she performed her best-ever rendition of “No Good Deed Goes Unpunished” and it was a glorious moment.

Whatev, so back to the telly. The people are dancing and singing and smiling in complete bliss, and they’re leading this girl through all the dancing and she’s crying and laughing because it’s so fun and fantastic, and as it turns out, her BF comes out at the end of the song and dance parade and PROPOSES to her and Princess literally had tears rolling down her cheeks because it was so exhilarating, and then she began to write in gigantic sentences that made her inner OCD writing teacher cringe, (as this blog often does) but Princess told that depressing fool, “SHUT UP, YOU, THIS IS FABULOUSNESS THAT DEMANDS EXTRAVAGANT SENTENCES WITH MANY, MANY WORDS AND EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The bad thing is immediately after this proposal, the guy is like, “Let’s get married right now.” And 10 million smiling dancers are staring at this girl and I know what she’s thinking: “I have mascara running down my face, I’m in complete shock, I never had a chance to shop for a wedding dress with my mom and my MOH like I’ve always wanted to, and you want to make me get married RIGHT NOW or else I’ll make you look stupid in front of 10 million people??” The PRESSURE was so INTENSE. Princess felt panicked and sweaty-palmed, so she took a shower immediately to wash away the bad, bad feeling, and sang Hello Dolly song to woo herself back into the elated state she was in before the happy musical number turned scary. So, she has no idea whether they got married right then or not, but knowing simply isn’t worth the risk, because Princess feels sure that either way, the awesome proposal was probably ruined. Reality TV, you are one tricky devil.

Tuesday, March 29, 2011


Princess is developing a theory that whatever items you may eagerly purchase from Free People and/or Urban Outfitters can simultaneously be found despised, abandoned, and smelling sketchy at your local thrift store. Princess isn’t trying to demean these brands (because obvi Princess wouldn’t turn them away if they offered her free merchandise, and feels morally obligated to like them since they’re earthy and artistic or something), but rather, she is investigating some suspicions she has had of the fashion industry in general for quite some time. And although she’s hinted at her suspicions before, she feels compelled to share them again, because well, she’s seen a lot of conspiracy movies and she thinks she’s on to something.

So here it is: Princess has the sneaking suspicion that the fashion industry is playing a trick on her and other patrons by manipulating them to like things that would actually be considered ugly in any other setting. Seriously. Princess is regularly wondering whether she likes something because she truly likes it, or because someone told her to like it. There have been multiple times when her first instinct to a trend was “big fat NO,” and she then found herself saying, “Do you have this in my size?” This realization has given Princess mad anxiety because she HATES to be manipulated and she HATES to feel like she’s the puppet. Princess must always be the puppet master! It’s in her contract.

Princess’ investigation/imagination has lead to three possibilities:
  1. Anna Wintour has giant trend pinwheel in her office, and she lackadaisically spins it to decide what works for the upcoming season and what does not. Then she cackles when it finally trickles down to the mindless consumers in suburbia.
  2. Anna Wintour has some kind of rotating filing system, so that when something is at its ugliest and most ridiculous, it moves to the front of the file to suddenly be considered fresh and new much to the surprise and obedience of everyone (Princess is looking at you, acid-wash denim and harem pants).
  3. Thrift stores have undercover agents who report back to Anna or Free People or whoever and give an inventory about the clothes that have recently come in—a.k.a. the stuff people have decided is terrible and finally donated. THEN, the fashion industry maliciously brings those items BACK in style (only slightly modified to increase frustration) so that we will have to buy them again, only this time for more money, because of like, inflation, or whatever. (OH MY GOSH THAT’S IT!!!!) Truly, it’s not healthy for America’s hoarding tendency. Maybe the sad people on TLC are just terrified to throw something out because then it’s destined to come back in.
Paranoia? Maybe, since Princess also believes a family of hobos is currently living in her attic. (Fortunately, she also believes that they are friendly.) But maybe not. Lo, some documentation for your viewing pleasure:

*All images from

Monday, March 28, 2011

the princess, on angst and embracing her inner middle-schooler

The Princess looks at middle school as a dark time. Her sixth grade awkwardness, her braces, her tendency to blush, her lack of a straightener, her unfortunate participation in the talent show that left her terrified of singing in public until senior year, the fact that her seventh grade science teacher had the class make bumper stickers in response to Sex Ed lessons… 

She likes to lock it all away in the far corner of her mind next to her irrational childhood fears of Anne Frank and garbage men. But then she became a teacher. A middle school teacher, no less. And it turns out it’s the best job ever. However, she sometimes finds herself dangerously close to that carefully-labeled cobwebby cardboard box of repressed middle school anxieties, and this has been somewhat unpleasant. 

Like a few weeks ago. Princess was scuttling up the stairs with her gigantic tote bag (when she was ordering it, she was so fixated on the color that she ignored anything resembling a number and LL Bean send the Queen Mother of all bags—Math- 1, Princess- 0) and gigantic heels (she must look tall and sound authoritative when she walks down the hall so she is not mistaken for a student). Obviously you know where this story is going. She fell, up the stairs of course, and caught herself just before her nose hit the steps. As to be expected, there were many witnesses but none that Princess knew except for the extremely quiet kid from sixth period who remained very still and staring throughout the entire fall and resulting teetering recovery (made difficult by the avalanche of Princess’ possessions: gigantic tote bag, purse, coat, and Starbucks). Princess looked at him and said, “Shhh, don’t tell!” and then made an effort to laugh it off, which obviously didn’t work because the box of repressed memories spilled open and cluttered her mind and robbed her of her cleverness. She sheepishly slunk to her room and cracked open a can of Diet Dr. Pepper, which she downed in like, 4.5 seconds. Boo. 

Naturally, as is Princess’ tendency, the quiet kid didn’t need to tell anyone because Princess has a bizarre compulsion to share the things that she doesn’t want shared, so she told everyone. She looks at it as unnecessary honesty. Like when people would compliment the fake Coach bag she carried around a few years ago, Princess would involuntarily say, “THANKS IT’S FAKE, I GOT IT FOR $18!!” After her outburst, she would always wonder why she did that, because after all, isn’t faking it the purpose of buying a fake? And hasn’t she learned after all this time that typically most people admire labels and not the awesome price? Now she’s had more than 5 people ask her if her watch is a Michael Kors, and she always says, “NO I BOUGHT IT AT TARGET TWO YEARS AGO FOR $14!!” Ugh.

By the way, the last time Princess let that statement slip, one of her students JUDGED her. Like, “Ew, omg, who would ever buy a watch a Target?” And Princess was enraged and had to write a fake email to cool down while she decluttered her mind since the @#*%!& middle school box had toppled over once again, even though Princess could have sworn she duct-taped that thing shut. Because OBVIOUSLY the judgment in her student’s eyes it made her think of the fake Birkenstock clogs she had when everyone else had the REAL ones. But WHATEVER because she loved those clogs and WHY didn’t anyone notice when she had the REAL Steve Madden Mary Janes? Probably because she wore them with black velvet overalls. Oy.

Saturday, February 12, 2011


Princess and her brother came down with a fever this weekend. Perhaps you’ve heard of it—Bieber Fever? It’s about as toxic and contagious as say, the yellow and scarlet fevers (such colorful names for such bad diseases, no?), or perhaps the variety of animal flues (pig and bird come to mind—Princess also recalls some sort of cow disease and she thinks rabies comes from dogs, but it might be raccoons). This particular fever makes you scream uncontrollably, and if you have a very severe case, you might also sob hysterically and snot yourself silly (this is usually happens in contaminated girls between the ages of eight and thirteen, though Princess has had the displeasure of seeing forty-somethings exhibit similar symptoms).

Princess and Brother think it’s funny to partake in all things of mass obsession, so they felt it necessary to see Never Say Never, the Justin Bieber movie, this weekend. They soon found themselves in a room of screaming middle-schoolers. Truth be told, Brother was practically born a screaming middle-schooler, and Princess has formal training for dealing with this particular brand of screamer, so they were not as overwhelmed as others might have been. In fact, they were nowhere near being overwhelmed because of the middle-schoolers, but rather overwhelmed with the middle-schoolers (it’s an important prepositional distinction). Princess and Brother screamed their heads off (this is hyperbole, not intended to be taken literally, in case any of the aforementioned overly-literal middle-schoolers are reading) and maybe almost cried just a little bit. Throughout the movie, they would look at one another like, “Oh crap, we think we may have accidentally passed the line of it’s-fun-to-pretend-we’re-obsessed-with-stuff and ended up in a strange land of Tiger Beat magazines and ‘I’m Mrs. Bieber’ t-shirts/tattoos.” (Although obviously Brother would never wear such a shirt unless he was truly desperate for attention, which only happens on like, Saturdays.) The truth is that Justin (first name basis now, you know) is ADORABLE like a baby angel with magical hair and TALENTED and FUNNY. Brother is making plans to kidnap Justin and not hold him for ransom but rather a promise that they can be BFF forever. Princess admires this idea and recommended that one of the terms of Justin’s freedom should be that he has to promise to text Brother and Princess every day. ILY, JB.

Lest we forget, this movie was in 3-D (yay glasses!), and no joke, when the Biebs looked at the camera and extended his 3-D hand, Princess (totally on accident) literally screamed and reached out her arm. (It would have been embarrassing except everyone else did it too.) Over and over again, audience members would jump out of their seats and start dancing (Princess spotted a girl with a broken leg hopping and waving her crutches in the air, which is awesome but not officially recommended on this blog). They overheard a million hilarious comments like, “His hotness is a gift to the world.” It was basically the best time ever. [Side note: This is probably not true for the seventh-grade boys who made the mistake of taking their GFs to the movie because they were like, so J (letters r cool) that they felt compelled to shout rude things about the Biebs, but Princess noticed they all had his haircut. Hypocrisy is lame.]

Afterwards, Princess made Brother take pictures with her outside by the movie poster. During this process, Brother would randomly announce, “I’ve got a fever!” and approximately 50 girls waiting for their moms to pick them up would squeal, “ME TOO!!!!!” It was like Bieber’s almost-bowl cut brought strangers together. It was beautiful.

That said, Princess would like to update her previous idea of heaven. For years, Princess has lamented, “Why is life not a musical?” and insisted that heaven will, in fact, be a musical. [Side note: In high school, Princess and her friend Shannon decided the best way to remedy this is to choreograph dances to songs about everyday things and teach these songs/dances to the masses. That way when someone says something like, “I have to go to the bathroom,” or “What time is it?” those around that person can perform the choreographed song and dance. Later Princess found out that High School Musical 2 TOTALLY had a song called “What Time Is It?” and she was $#*&%@ mad.] Because Princess had so much fun screaming her head off in pure excitement, she would like to officially modify her “Heaven Is a Musical” theory to “Heaven Is a Musical and Also Kind of a Justin Bieber Movie/Concert Except Obviously We Won’t Be Focusing on The Biebs Because He Is Just an Element of Creation Though Arguably One of the Better Elements in Creation.” The End.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

the seedy underbelly of glitter and other conversations

Princess felt kindred with Demetri Martin when he revealed his clever albeit slightly disturbing insights about glitter. Because as much as Princess loves glitter (and by love, Princess means unhealthy obsession), it does share many qualities with the particular disease to which Demetri compared it and this is unpleasant. “Your forehead is sparkling,” Husband has said many a time. Princess usually makes some quip about being a vampire, which Husband will inevitably not understand, so with a nobody-understands-my-jokes grimace, Princess heads to the nearest mirror to realize yet again she is the victim of careless crafting. And are Princess’ readers aware of how difficult it is to remove glitter from the forehead when the glitter specks are intermingled with the follicles on the hairline? It’s like filing taxes, although really Princess wouldn’t know because she leaves serious number-like things to Husband.
Princess has been bingeing on glitter nail polish of late (Enabler Sister is to blame for gifting Princess with the sparkliest present ever on Christmas morn), and the most bizarre thing keeps happening: The entire nail of polish will somehow detach itself from Princess’ finger, making her look like she has a nervous condition, which is actually not true in this case. Princess discovered this when she went to get a manicure with some of her less glitter-focused friends, and less than 12 hours later, sparkling polish pieces that had magically peeled themselves off Princess’ fingers glistened from the carpet. Gross. The next morning, Princess returned to the salon to show the manicurist the one remaining polished finger—and what a convenient finger it was. Just kidding, that didn’t happen at all, but wouldn’t that have been a silver lining? (Princess likely would have lamented such an unladylike gesture anyway, but sometimes she likes to pretend that she is brazen.)
Regrettably, Princess is now forced to repaint her nails approximately every 31 hours to keep them at their glitteriest. Princess’ brother said yesterday, “Is this glitter thing a phase?” Princess stated in her most serious voice, “Glitter is a lifestyle.” And that stupid response irritated even Princess, so she retracted her statement, though she might still mean it.
Luckily, Princess is around teenagers 70 percent of the time (this number is not at all the result of a calculation, rather an eeny-meenie-miney-mo kind of situation), so her fixation on glitter is usually admired rather than pitied. But then she comes home to Husband, who is the unglitteriest creature on the earth (a fact Princess loves, inexplicably). They have conversations like this:
Princess: AHHH!!! Frozen yogurt!! I want some!! Let’s go! Yay!
Husband: No.
Princess: Why do you always have to rain on my parade? [Princess resists the urge to accompany this statement with the obvious song choice from Funny Girl.]
Husband: Because sometimes your parades are so loud and flamboyant that they begin to disturb the neighbors and someone has to stop it.
Princess: Thank you for your acts of public service.

Thursday, January 6, 2011

mind games

Princess has been attacked. Viciously and senselessly attacked. Betrayed, really. By Velcro.

The day started out quite wonderfully. But then, do not all scary movies begin with sunshine and loving, happy families? Princess was dressed to the nines (where did this phrase originate? Princess would like to know. Why is nine fancier than the other numbers? Are the other numbers jealous? Is there a number that is particularly tacky? There are many questions that Princess has made a mental note to examine on another day) and toting the day’s treasures in a fantastic basket given to her by her kind mother-in-law, who is especially talented at choosing things Princess will love. It is red and has her monogram on it and Princess loves it dearly. (Also when she carries it with her red coat—also given to her by her mother-in-law—she is called Red Riding Hood and she likes this. Although she would also like to add to her list of Things to Consider on Another Day the fact that in that story, a wolf dresses as a Grandma and a creepy stalker lumberjack somehow rescues Red from the wolf just in time. Hester Molester perhaps? Should we tell our children this story?)

Back to the basket. Since the Velcro incident, Princess has been eyeing the basket with suspicion. Why is it betraying her in this way? [Note: If you have been paying any attention to Princess’ senseless ramblings (bless your heart), you know that she has this excessive sense of personification (she is a writing teacher, so she thinks she is allowed to be this type of crazy) that regularly interferes with her daily life. Yesterday she had a strange feeling that the trees she passed on the way home from work were planning to throw apples at her like in Wizard of Oz. Later a bizarre swirl in her shower tiles began to look like a man’s head and the image nearly ruined her rendition of “Grenade.” (Nearly. Princess- 1, Tiles, 0.) Speaking of which, has Princess shared with you her theory that Bruno Mars is equal parts Elvis and Rufio from Hook? Ah, another day.]
Okay, Princess is not a math person (though the preceding diagram may convince you otherwise), but she can tell that things are not adding up for you. Personification, baskets, Velcro… She will break it down: Basket is fastened with Velcro. Princess believed the Velcro-fastened basket to be her friend. Princess lovingly stored the basket under her desk and peered at it throughout the day to make sure it was safe and happy. THEN, mid-afternoon, when the basket was grouchy no doubt, it went all piranha on her and bit her leg like 57 times. Her tights will never be the same.

(Princess was just grateful that she was not wearing the patterned tights she has that she saw Portia de Rossi wearing on Oprah the other day. Princess was not aware that they were particularly fashionable, and is patting herself on the back for buying them, even though obviously she was going to buy them because they were one-third of a pack for like 5 dollars.)

Perhaps it’s a simple case of mutiny. Maybe the basket actually is her friend and the Velcro pulled a Benedict Arnold or a Tom Cruise in that movie about killing Hitler. (Spoiler: Tom Cruise does not succeed in killing Hitler. This surprised Princess even though she knew Hitler wasn’t assassinated. She was also surprised when the Titanic sank. Why do movies based on books break ALL the rules—Princess is looking at you, Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants! Matilda! Other Boleyn Girl!—and the movies based on history follow the rules? How irritating.)

To conclude, Princess' mind is very much working against her trying to make her angry with her beloved basket. Princess has decided to reject this notion, because she knows the basket didn't mean any harm and would like to go back to the innocent time pre-attack when they simply enjoyed their blissful Red Riding Hood excursions without any worry of attacks or pedophile lumberjacks. (She also has suspicions that someone climbed into her dreams and put hateful basket thoughts in the safe that was locked away in her dollhouse.)

Are you impressed by how many topics Princess can cover in her rambles? It’s a gift. Or ADHD.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

this is like, creepy

Princess thinks that TLC, which is traditionally known as The Learning Channel, should henceforth be known as This is Like, Creepy. (Eh, it’s the best she could do.) The channel has cornered the market on shows about multiples, midgets, bakers, and weddings, and then combines any of the above for extra points or something (Little Chocolatiers, anyone?). Princess’ father is almost angered by the amount of “little people” shows, and Princess does have to agree that they’re getting excessive. Almost exploitative, like the circus. (Yet none of us can stop watching... After watching a show about Kennedy, a primordial dwarf, Princess fascination was so excessive that her friends expressed genuine concern.)

TLC is taking a toll on Princess' mental state, particularly in regard to parenthood. If Princess accidentally flips past one more Baby Story episode, she may never have children, while that other show about people who never knew they were pregnant regularly makes her paranoid that she will be having babies later that afternoon. Then there’s the bratty baby pageant show (Tangent: “Why are all the moms ugly?” Husband asked. Princess explained to him that this is part of the irony of the show and is intended to make viewers fascinated and furious and thus addicted) that makes Princess terrified that she will end up with some scary fake-toothed fluffy-haired country bumkin baby that will yell at her about her itchy talent costume. OR, what if Princess got addicted to cranking out babies and ended up with 17 18 19 little monsters! Or what if they came out and they were literally monsters! (TLC doesn’t have a show about this yet, but Princess expects it any day.) Or what if she ended up with like 7 of them at one time and then Husband ended up wearing Ed Hardy and dating Princess’ plastic surgeon’s daughter? This may be the worst possibility. 

(As a side note, Princess has intentions of writing TLC and advising them to sic Stacey and Clinton on the people in all their other shows.She thinks this would make an excellent season of What Not to Wear.) 

Nevertheless, Princess and her Prince Charming are watching TLC again. This has possessed Princess to ask Husband a series of disturbing questions. Husband has this uncanny ability to respond to Princess’ most ridiculous questions in the same tone of voice one might use when asked, “Paper or plastic?” Princess admires this ability very much. They just had this conversation: 

“If you had other wives, would I be your favorite?” 

“I’d have to see.” 

“Don’t you think I’d be the most fun and prettiest wife?” (Princess is shameless.)


“If I were addicted to ventriloquism, would you still have married me?” 


“But if you had, would you consider my puppet your other wife?” 


“What if I was mad that you were going to marry another woman and I pretended I was addicted to ventriloquism to freak her out? Would you be mad?” 


Later, after Princess tires of her Inquisition, Husband stands up and says, “I love you so much. I would never pick another wife.” Princess smiles and says, “Thanks, boo.” She already knew that.