Looketh What Mine Person Drippeth With: Little Girls

today my aunt and her extensive 4-kid family came to visit. of the 4 kids, 2 were girls. one was 11 and the other probably 4 or 5 years old. they were both really vain. they came into my bedroom (which, because of childhoon deprivation, i had decorated into a victorian lady's boudoir) oohing and ahing at my vast collection of shiny trinkets, my dresser full of ladies' stuff like cosmetics, and my vintage victorian vanity table.

the girls tried on my necklaces and bangles, held my earrings up to their ears, swathed themselves in my heavy damask drapes, and pretended they were princesses. i was hoping they wouldn't break anything, or rip a hole in my curtains, but i let them play dress-up. i drew the line when they wanted to try on my makeup, because i knew that my Chanel lippies and Christian Dior eyeshadows were not going to survive. i also drew the line when they wanted to paint my face and make me into their giant living doll.

hoping to distract them from my 'treasures', i showed them my sketchbook and let them draw in it. i lent them my glittery pens and colorful markers, and then went to work on my SEP application. they sat around my piano chair, diligently drawing, and occasionally squabbling over who would get to use the pink glitter pen.

then it was time for dinner, and we were all eating out, so we filed out and into our respective vehicles. dinner was largely uneventful. we returned and again the girls went back to drawing and wrecking my sketchbook. i settled to watch a rerun of Dae Jang Geum, and during one of the commercial breaks my aunt and uncle decided it was time to bring their brood home, so the girls carefully returned my pens and my sketchbook to my desk and went home. i forgot about the sketchbook.

until fifteen minutes ago.

i noticed it on my desk and flipped to see what they had drawn.

page 1: a drawing of Ariel, the little mermaid, who sporting big caberet neon orange hair, a neon green tail and a glittering pink bikini top. her skin was computer paper white. a little eerie, but well-proportioned. younger girl added incoherent scribbles at the bottom, meant to represent the rocks at the ocean bottom.

page 2: a huge mess of scribbles with glittery pens and markers. a big greeting "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!*" and a footnote "*even though it's not your birthday". random doodles of a birthday cake and a stick figure girl exclaiming, "YES!". on closer inspection, there's a little message saying "TO: PIE WEN JIE JIE, SHE MUST: EAT CAKE". i laughed at the misspelling of my name.

page 3: an extremely unflattering portrait of "BEATIFUL PIE WEN JIE JIE", in which i have droopy eyes and a huge smiling mouth. i sport neon pink eyeshadow and purple eyeliner, and blood red blush on my cheeks and nose. hilariously, i have neon pink lips and silver lipliner. again, neon orange hair, and a shirt with a print consisting of neon green circles, blue stripes and neon orange scribbles. i just noticed that the girls traced my eyes with blue sparkly pen, a la Shiseido Maquillage circa 2005.

page 4: a pen drawing of a ballerina with one enormously long arm, and pointe shoes laced all the way to the knee, rather like a roman hooker. below roman hooker ballerina is another ballerina performing a split. she has a thought bubble that says: "I'M DISABED" and has a little doodle of a person in crutches next to it.

page 5: unfinished drawing of a side profile of a woman with impossibly protruding lips applying lipstick, and...strangely enough, salivating at the same time. probably they were drawing this when told to go home, because at the bottom of the page is a little message: "THANK YOU!!" and next to it, a little misshapened smiley face.

for some reason, i feel really proud of them. i think they are going to turn out all right. i mean...the drawing of the "disabed" ballerina, complete with little person in crutches, that's truly the work of a young genius. and anyway, i'm much luckier than my brother. he has to entertain the other 2 boys, and they spent most of the time terrorizing his hamsters.

I Thinketh Random Thoughts

i'm still getting sharp pains in my left hip, but i've decided to go Kahlo-esque and live with the pain.

pain? i've been in pain so long i've forgotten what it felt like before the pain.

nobody really knows how to react when i tell them about the accident, and the constant pain. even now, when my parents ask if i still hurt, i say i'm fine, just close the case already and sue the fellow. i don't really want to go back to physiotherapy because it really really hurts.

but now it seems the pains have gotten much worse, because i haven't been going back to physiotherapy for over a month. maybe i should go back, at least once more. right. i shall book an appointment with simone next week, have my bones cracked a little.

although paul the osteopath was really good-looking, it still disturbs me to have to strip down to my underwear and have to subject myself to his bone-setting, and because of the nature of my injuries he has to touch some really awkward places. so well, i'm glad that part's over and i don't have to see him again.

i'm really tired from work. i hope i get my paycheck soon. i don't really care if i'm not paid overtime, as long as i get some money. then i can hoard it. yup. i'm a hoarder. i still haven't spent the $150 i earned from singing at the YRC. it's still in the same envelope, in the same drawer. i just like to take it out and look at the crisp notes.

penpals...i wonder how Matt's doing? he was my penpal back in 2001, we wrote to each other religiously for over a year, then he went into the US Marines and went to Iraq, so i don't know if he still exists any more. i quite liked him; we were both kind of dorky, and he's a total nerd who's homeschooled and sort-of redneck. but he's pretty intelligent. so i hope he's okay and still alive.

my godmother still writes to her penpal, who's in new zealand, and they've been writing to each other for over 30 years. and they are really the traditional kind of penpals too, as in, they still use snailmail (yeah, when i say penpal i really mean email-pal), handwrite their letters, include recipes, children's photos and all that sentimental emotional things. it's really sweet. my mother said she used to have a penpal back in her teens, a wheelchair-bound british girl, but she grew tired of writing and they lost contact.

i still think of Stascia. i guess i really liked her. i haven't been to rehearsals for a long time. but i think that when i return to the stage, with him around, all thoughts of all others would disappear, and once again his genius would drown out all other sounds, around me, and in my heart.

I Squisheth Mine Pimple

it had been festering for a long time. almost two weeks. it had grown so big it resembled a wart. today, i noticed it was beginning to turn green.

ah hah! i thought. time to finally squeeze it out.

i pressed down with two fingers. come on, i urged the bump. come to mama.

but it wouldn't budge. the stupid head remained hidden inside. i tried again, squeezing with more force.

pop! i felt the bump give way, and bright green ooze suddenly squirted out in a little blob.

hurrah! i cheered to myself. now i've broken through the first barrier. now to squeeze out the hard lump inside.

i squeezed down hard with two fingers. it felt like a firm little ball. then, SQUISH when the pimple, and warm green pus mixed with blood came shooting out and spattering across my hand.

ugh, gross. i got a tissue and wiped the mess from my hand. then i looked up to the mirror, and saw a rivulet of dark red blood running out of the pimple.

argh. the stupid head is still inside the pimple, but now it won't stop bleeding.

i guess i'll try again another day.