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.

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