…on the princess scale. I’m outraged.
Let me back up.
Last year I took three friends - who knew little of each other - on a road trip. We drove south 5 or 6 hours (who can keep track when you’re knitting?) to Jekyll Island and a magical, mystical, friendship cementing, chickens in trees and skinny dipping place called The Hostel in the Forest. During a lazy afternoon of reading on our bellies on a near desolate beach, we dipped ourselves in the ocean.
NOTE TO MEN: look away now.
It was during that dip and chattering over the waves and newfound buoyancy that the topic somehow turned to my needing to roll up the beach to the cabana for a check-in/swap out of a female variety. Problem was that we’d hustled away from the hostel (before chores, me thinks) and I hadn’t…ya know…packed properly. One of the girls couldn’t offer me assistance because she’s a member of the Diva Cup cult, and another couldn’t because she hadn’t packed anything - didn’t need to. The last of my wee little piggies offered her stash of OB.
Now let me just say that as much as I love the earth, I do not love jamming my own appendages in my girlie places. The other alternative involved a cardboard applicator…to which I replied something along the lines of “I have a sensitive vagina.”
Alright. It wasn’t along those lines. It was that line.
The line was noted in our book of fabulous one-liners for which we’d always remember our retreat and though amusing, I’d mostly forgotten it.
Until tonight.
I met up with said Queen of Cardboardandfingerjamming and a few friends tonight after work for a little adult giggletude. They’re her friends, really, a circle I’ve been invited to join time and again (and loved every minute of it!) but nonetheless, her friends first.
One of these friends (who may or may not remain NAMELESS) and my gal-pal apparently had an interesting conversation when we returned from our grand tree hugging adventure to the Georgia Shore, starting somewhere near my sensitive vagina and ending with their having rated all their friends on a Princess Scale - where they were the happy medium.
My vajayjay combined with my blogging apparently ranks me as a 6 on the princess scale - which - returning to my original point - I find appalling.
I consider myself something of a no-holds-barred, take-no-prisoners, say-it-like-it-is, hard-and-fast, hike-camp-dig-sweat, morse-code-dashing kinda gal. In real life. A solid 3. I’m a tomboy for cryin’ out loud. I don’t buy designer clothes or wear make-up or spend a lot of time on my hair (all other considering factors on the weighting scale).
It’s only here in the safe embrace of the faceless interwebs or with close friends that I let the other side out. I mean really -I grew up in a house where my mother used code like “BM”, and “TP”. I still can’t bring myself to use real words when I go to the doctor and tell them I don’t feel well. I CRIED at my doctor years ago when he suggested a colonoscopy while I was awake. I cry at commercials. But that’s for me and my loves and not for the whole world. Not for consideration in the running for This Circle of Friends Next Top Princess (which I was really in no danger of winning).
So there’s the rambling story and my ranking and now I want to know - if I’m ground zero, if I’m the neutral 5 on myveraown princess scale - based on what you know about me - where would you rate me? Where would you rate yourself?
30 May 08
11:34 pm
I’m afraid I have to second that emotion and give you a 6 on the original scale.
On your scale, I’d probably be a 7. I don’t like bugs and I don’t like peeing outside.
31 May 08
12:12 pm
I have to defend a couple of things: first being the scale… this was not a general U.S. population census, it was only the women that Queen of Cardboardandfingerjamming and I surround ourselves with, which I am proud to say are comprised of some very non-princessy ladies.
Secondly, this was about as non-serious a conversation as they come. As deep as a puddle. A fun way to pass the time on a flight a few weeks ago.
But in case you were truly offended, let me rant. I have discovered that everyone I know views me a little differently. I like to think that I am who I am and I stay true to that no matter the time or place. But the reality is “work me” is slightly different from “close friend me” or “family me” or even “at a party with people I don’t know me.”
So while I self-ranked a 7 (i wear dresses a lot and don’t like to be dirty… but am emotionally a rock), some people would look at me cross-eyed and give me at a 4 or a 9!
The Maigh you’ve allowed me to get to know thus far through random gatherings and your blog is a 6 on the princess scale. Totally respectable!
31 May 08
12:58 pm
Oh I was only outraged in the most make-my-sides-hurt-laughing kinda way! And you’re right…I’m a 6. Hell, I’m probably a 9. I just like to think of myself as a 2.
I love that it gave me fodder for babbling and laughing…and I love both your brains for coming up with it.
Maybe the 2 is the part of me that can change the brakes on the Jeep, do my own taxes and build things by myveraownself with powertools.
I blame society for confusing me. Is it good or bad to be a princess? It’s both.
31 May 08
5:47 pm
You can change your own brakes? Holy crap. Definitely a 5. I’m a 10. Okay. There. I said it.
01 Jun 08
10:24 am
Phew, I really thought you were offended! Thanks for the reply.
02 Jun 08
10:41 am
The “Maigh” I know…I would rank a 4 or 5.
Myself?? Probably a 6 or 7. Definitely like to be girlie at times but don’t mind having to get down and dirty if I have to. Maybe it comes from being raised by a single (divorced) mom, therefore, no man in the house so if something had to be done…..it got done.
02 Jun 08
9:28 pm
Being a 5 or a 6 or a 10 or even a 15, is only bad if the people around you consider it bad. And if they do - why in the world would you surround yourself with them, right?
Or really, it’s only bad if YOU think it’s bad.
Personally - I’m at least a 10. I like stilettos and makeup and cupcakes and girl shit, but I don’t like being around girls because they are all girly!!! - so what does that make me? Crazy, I tell ya.
You are what you are and as long as you are happy, screw everyone else if they think it’s too prissy or not prissy enough.
03 Jun 08
4:26 pm
I was trying to remember the last time I wore a dress (skirt counts)…and I honestly cannot. It may have been as much as 8 years ago. But I’d still rank myself around a 4 maybe? After having my first kid (10lb 6oz non-c-section) I got a “you are one tough gal” from my mid-wife, so I’m going with that. But I also cry at the drop of a hat. And based soley on the skirt to non-skirt ratio between you and me, I’d have to give you a 4.493.
06 Jun 08
2:09 pm
From a vivid memory in 5th grade when I was told by you that I was ‘very blunt’ and other fuzzy memories of taunting and antagonism, I’d definately give you a 4. If I spent too much time reading your blog, I might change my mind.