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.)

“Maybe.”

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

“No.” 

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

“No.” 

“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?” 

“Yes.” 

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.