I Never Thought I’d Do This, or: My Five Year Old Self Would Be Ashamed

I never thought I’d do this. I mean, if you’d asked me a couple years ago if I would ever read Vogue and enjoy it, I would say:

“No. Why?”

But, even though I really only watch it to make fun of high fashion (I mean, some of those colors…ugh!) I still compliment and to someone who likes interior designing I might even sound coherent. This would frighten my tiny five year old self to death.

“You LIKE this stuff?!” My cute little self would sqeak.

I would nod solemnly and reply, “It’s fun to laugh at how ridiculous some of these dresses are. Look! Who pairs those two colors tog—”

“STOP!” Chibi me would shriek. “For the love of Tolkien, stop!”

I wouldn’t heed little Chib-me’s words, and continue gushing about dresses and colors and design and GOOD LORD WHO DESIGNED THAT GARBAGE BAG IN THE GUISE OF AN OUTFIT?!

IS SHE EVEN WEARING A SKIRT?

Chib-me hangs her tiny head in shame and shakes her head. She’s so disappointed. Awww.

I Describe, Then Show You A Drawing or: Dazzletabulous

My hair—my mother spends real, actual money to have my color of hair. It sparkles in the light, shines, glimmmers, sparkles…(what are more synonyms for glitter…dazzletabulous?) Unfortunatly, my hair is more wild then a pack of wild dingoes, and it really sort’ve ruins the [dazzletabulous] effect when your [dazzletabulous] hair is standing up every which way and is more frizzy then a sweater in a lightning storm.

My clothes are nothing special. Solid colors, little designs—the most extravagant thing I have is a Doctor Who tee-shirt. Well, that in the wierd weird wierd HOW DO YOU SPELL THIS WORD WIERD flower dress I never wear.

My glasses are a sort’ve bronze color, gold perhaps? Ovalish in shape, goldish in color—like a librarian’s glasses.

That’s it. Really. I’m sort’ve plain.

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