I have several different one-dimensional personalities. They range from “Sara the rapping gangsta” (she’s small, but she’s there) to “Sara the dweeb interested in the etymology of words like ‘phony’.” These many different personalities often pair up to fight over the decisions I make on a day-to-day basis. It is a bit like having a legion of shoulder angels. Two of these personalities have risen to dominate the others on most issues, and they dictate the ways I emotionally respond to all of my problems. I call them the Pansy Princess and Action-Flick Chick.
Pansy Princess is special. She was meant for great things, and she knows it. She just needs someone to go ahead bring her purpose in life to her because she is much too busy napping to find it herself. Her favorite game is “playing the martyr” wherein she accepts every discomfort as due punishment for something bad she has done. She spends most of her time in an ivory tower wallowing in self-pity. Her first solution to most problems is to cry. Her second is to complain that the tower is drafty and the stairs look a bit too dodgy for climbing down. She is happiest eating Cheese Nips and watching “Arrested Development,” and hates nothing more than getting out of bed.
Action-Flick Chick, unlike Pansy Princess, gets things done, and usually gets them done with grenades. And machine guns. And steel-spiked cleats. She never sleeps and lives only on Dr. Pepper and Fear. She isn’t around much because she’s too busy starring in hard-core action movies and beating up emo kids, but when she’s here she plays to win. Her barbaric cry frightens gorillas and her fists know no mercy.
Action-Flick Chick and Pansy Princess have very different ways of dealing with problems. For instance:
Problem: I completely forgot to write my paper that is due today.
Pansy Princess: If only I had worked on it sooner! If only I hadn’t spent last night eating Cheese Nips until I passed out! Woe, woe is me! I dream of the grave…
Action-Flick Chick: Whatever. It’s just a paper. I bet if I chug some Dr. Pepper I could write that paper in ten minutes with my eyes closed.
Problem: A needle went through my foot.
Pansy Princess: MY FOOT! It’s practically been cut off! I’ll probably get gangrene and die! I- I- I think I’m going to… (Faints)
Action-Flick Chick: Stupid needle. Is that the best puncture wound you can inflict? (Stabs own foot with spear) See this? This is a REAL puncture wound. Don’t mess with me, needle.
Problem: Stuck in a boring movie.
Pansy Princess: I am a terrible, horrible person and deserve to watch this movie. It serves me right for accidentally shutting Stacy’s hand into a locker in seventh grade.
Action-Flick Chick: I wonder how many popcorn kernels I can stick in the hair of the girl in front of me before she notices. (Answer: all of them, because I am a ninja)
Action-Flick Chick was away for a bit making a movie about an octopus with swords instead of arms, but she came back, tied and gagged Pansy Princess, and drank a six pack of Dr. Pepper and a liter of Coke. She is currently wrapping Pansy Princess in yard upon yard of cellophane to muffle her sporadic moaning. I’d better go give her a hand.