Reciprocity: A Magical W.I.S.P

1. What's a girl to do?

Charlotte Avalyn St James.

A boring name, right? Boring name for a boring girl I say.

Why is it relevant, you ask? Because It's  me, I'm the boring girl. Actually that's a lie, I'm totally not a  boring girl; I wish I was, don't get me wrong, but I'm not. Tell me this  though, how do you pretend to even be boring when you have the name of a  porn star? Alleged porn star I should say. Please don't google that! I  assure you, it's not an actual porn star name, but you get what I'm  trying to say, don't you? Plus, who needs to see naked meat flaps  slapping in unison to some elevator music in an unrealistic depiction of  coitus? No one, that's who. You'll thank me, I promise; or at the very  least, your man will thank me because now he no longer has to try and  figure out how to perform like a dude that gets all day to bang out  twenty minutes of film and have you give him the hurt locker stare cause  he can only go five minutes before he taps out. If you feel so inclined  as to thank me for my benevolent advice on this subject, you can send  all forms of gratitude to my post office box. Coffee and chocolate are  always a winner, but don't worry, you're off the hook because I don't  have a post office box anymore.

I digress

What was I saying? Oh yes, that I was  or am, for a period, the boring girl. I lived a simple yet semi  satisfying life in the middle of nowhere. A tiny little speck of  nothingness on the map in the middle of kick rocksville, USA, also known  as Humansville, Missouri – Population 1,047 and me. What better place  to live as an average human specimen, than an aptly named town in  misery? Er.. I mean, Missouri.

I kept my head down, paid taxes from my  boring human job, and I didn't mess with the old coot who always threw  his used papers in my yard. I should have though because he was a right  foul sack of nope who always snarked about so and so's rose garden being  mutilated by a pipsqueak. That pipsqueak being me, and I would be put  out by it, but who has time for flowers, am I right? Not this girl.  Heck, I mowed over them on purpose more times than I can count. Better  for them to have a quick death rather than a long drawn out torturous  one by the hands of someone with a black thumb. Again, that's me, *raises a hand*  I have a black thumb. More importantly, what I want to know is why he  was so interested in my dirt bed anyway. Does he get a gold star from  the geriatric hen house for all the gossip he brings back to the  quilting circle at the senior center? I suspect there's a secret cash-in  system and he gets more bingo chips for each gold star he obtains. That  old bugger was probably making bank on me this whole time and I didn't  even get a cut of the profits. I'm entitled to half ya know! I mean, it  is my dirt after all. Yes, that was a pun because I'm punny but that's  not the point.. I'm just saying that the gentlemanly thing to do would  have been to share, that's all.

I tend to "just say" a lot of things if  you haven't noticed. It's another one of my super amazing  characteristics that feel like they've been written in by someone who  has no clue what they're doing. Here's a thought, maybe we're all just  fictional characters that have been written for the enjoyment of others.  Hmmm... makes ya think, doesn't it?

Having obnoxious character flaws of any  kind sort of makes you a note taker. For instance, I have a list of  things about myself that make me feel plain and ordinary. It's long,  spans vast distances and keeps me humble. Can I get a round of applause  for the on point humility please? *takes a bow* Thank you, thank you! I'll be here all read.

To say that I've pretty much made it my  mission to normalize myself in every way possible, would be an  understatement. To appear so boringly human that nobody spares a second  glance my way? That requires some serious fortitude and resolve. When is  the last time you committed to something so vehemently? I can't  remember if there's been a time before this that I could say that.  That's not to say that I'm actually ordinary or that this is easy  though. I just like to fly under the radar, because gobs of attention is  a definite no-no in my charlie-sphere and I'm willing to put in the  extra work to keep it that way. I mean, you don't come from amazeballs  supernatural stock of the highest caliber and expect to just get your  "normal" on, do you? That takes a little bit of elbow grease you can't  fake, and I'm the Queen of the slip n' slide, my friends.