Let's Screw this Playpen

*dedicated to the Rugrats, without whom I would have never been able to hold it in as a child. 

When I was a kid if I wanted a toy from the store I would ask my parents to buy it for me, and they would either say, “No,” and I would toss a tantrum, or they would say, “Sure, but get a new box, that one looks dented.” I guess I threw a tantrum either way because I never wanted to pick a new box. Those boxes, with that toy, was the box I chose, and if I put it down the toy would feel badly. And just think of how many other kids did the same thing! It is basically the Corduroy story. 

I actually still do that, but not to the same degree. I have learnt to let go. But I always feel bad for the box I leave behind.

The other day a coworker of mine said that conical hats are only appropriate when dressing as a unicorn. To that I said, NAY! Conical hats are only appropriate if one is trying to be a Princess. When I was a kid, I wanted nothing more than to be a Princess when I grew up. I wanted my vocation to be being a Princess. When we would go to Renaissance faires as kids, I would always buy a conical hat. And because I knew I could not be a princess, without marrying a prince (and how unlikely was that, living in New York City), I wore the hat everywhere to prove that I was a genuine Princess on the inside. And the conical hat was always to be worn at any kind of fair—a science fair for instance. So conical hats may just be Princess and fair exclusive, after all. 

If there is anything you need to know about me, it is this: I mostly always win at lottos. Just recently my parents submitted my name into a lotto for a studio apartment in Brooklyn. And I won! I mostly always win at lottos like that, anyway. Raffles. Drawing the name out of a hat. When I was a kid, I won a pink Corvette Barbie car in a raffle at a mall. Why? Because my parents put my name in.

Throughout my entire life my hair has never been longer than barley touching my shoulder blades. And of course that was all I wanted in life, long locks. I wanted to be a Princess after all, and they all, as far as I knew, had long luxurious hair (think Rapunzel length). So to simulate long hair, my sister and I would wear tights on our head. Our burglarized look was the only time we could wear our hair in a ponytail—the legs of the tights as the tail. And because we wanted to look like Ariel, the Little Mermaid, most of the time we wore red on our heads.

This picture just makes it look like I am wearing a do-rag. But you get the idea.

BONUS: 

In sixth grade we learnt about the Aztecs. One of our assignments was to make a symmetrical stencil drawing of one of the traditional Aztec masks. Through no fault of my own, unbeknownst to me, completely working on my subconscious, my stencil mask came out looking exactly like Angelica Pickles' worn-out Cynthia doll: