7th Entry

Where did I leave off? Oh, yes. After that little interlude, there wasn't all that much said between us. But as we were walking back to the room, the tension snapped when Galinda asked, "So, how did you like the party?"

"It was alright," I said as she turned the key. "It was my first party, and…"

Galinda looked at me for a second, then burst out in giggles. No, she was seriously howling with laughter. I didn't exactly know how to react. Was what I said really that funny? Perhaps she had had a little too much punch... She finally gained control again, but the whole mood, the two us just talking, had changed to something like that of one of those fabled sleepovers which I had never had. The effect was only amplified by her request that each of us "share a secret" that we had never told anyone. She said (with one of her squeals) that she and Fiyero were going to be married. In spite of myself, I had to smile at that, but I was completely unprepared when she asked me to tell her a secret.

"Like what?" I looked her straight in the eyes. There was no trace of malice there now, only the twinkle of innocent fun and laughter. A secret? What could I say? That up until now I thought you were a stupid, shallow, blonde witch who only cared about you and thought nothing about anyone else? That I never thought I would ever have this kind of conversation with someone like you? That I had felt that I deeply loathed you, but I just found out that I never really knew you after all?

I always hated people who pre-judged people, because I was always the victim of their assumptions. I would tell Nessa how much I loathed them, and she would half-heartedly agree. Now I know why. It's a weird cycle, that, because I was prejudging the people who prejudged me in thinking that they were stupid or selfish or needed to be cruelly amused by picking on me. But Galinda,as she sat across from me, didn't seem all that or selfish or cruel, only a bit ditzy. She was human, normal. She'd just been put in an unfamiliar and somewhat uncomfortable situation by rooming with me, and had acted accordingly. But really, so had I, if that makes any sense. I'd never been able to see my antagonists like that before. But it was clear now, we had both been the victims of prejudgment, me by her, and her by me.

Apparently I did not come up with a suitable secret fast enough, because Galinda, just joking, grabbed that little green bottle that I keep under my pillow and held it out just beyond my reach, asking me to tell her what it was. She didn't mean any harm, but all I could think about was what would happen if Galinda dropped it, if it shattered on the floor into a million tiny pieces...

"It was my mother's!" I said, raising my voice almost to a shout. Galinda's eyes grew very wide, and I looked away. "That's all…" I muttered. And in truth, that is all. That bottle had belonged to my mother, but I don't know what significance it had had to her in real life. A present from Father, perhaps? A pretty little trinket that she had once purchased? Or maybe the container of an expensive drink she once bought, who could say? But still, that "funny, little, green bottle" is the only thing I have to remember my mother by.

She gently handed the bottle back to me, disappointed, muttering about how "she had told me a really good one." The only emotion I heard in her voice was something that I could describe as juvenile indignation. And it occurred to me that maybe…maybe Galinda never grew up. A life of getting her way all of the time probably kept her from realizing that the world is not all cupcakes and ponies and rainbows served to her on a silver platter, that there is war, poverty, and disease out there and that, usually, there are not happily-ever-afters. But Galinda was spoiled, not ruined. I'm not saying that this was her fault in any way; she just needs to learn. So I decided to tell her my deepest secret.

"My father hates me—" I began. Galinda gasped. "No, that's not the secret." I said, almost amused. Then I revealed how Nessa came to be paralyzed, and how it was my fault. I was almost afraid of her reaction. This was the first person to think I wasn't a freak of nature—would I scare her away with the truth?

Apparently my "truth" was not her "truth." "But that was the milkflowers' fault, not yours," she assured me. "That may be your secret, Elphaba, but it doesn't make it true." At this moment, I knew Galinda had turned her full attention on me. It was almost intimidating. In a perky, blonde way. "Elphie…do you mind if I call you 'Elphie?'"

Elphie. In some way the nickname didn't seem to fit me. But when I started to say that it might just be too perky, she continued on anyway, about how she was going to make me her new project, something I really did not need. But Galinda didn't listen. She went on and on and on about why she was helping me and how popular I would be and the benefits of being popular and people who were popular and popular this and popular that—all while she put make-up on me, took off the hat, unbraided my hair, and brushed it out. I never even had time to say "but I don't need to be popular." Truth is, a part of me actually wanted to be normal for once. But I don't need to be...

"This is never going to work!" I exclaimed. As I thought about it, it seemed even more incredulous. Me? Popular?

"Oh Elphie, you mustn't think that way anymore! Your whole life is going to change... and all because of me. Okay, stand... I will turn your frock into a beautiful ball gown! Stand up…" I stood up. Galinda waved the wand. "Ball gown!" she commanded. I wanted to tell her that you had to have your feet only slightly apart, that you had to only do one up and down flick of the wrist with the wand instead of waving it around like that, and that the wand was really only a tool to get you to focus. But I let her try anyway. "Is this thing on?" she asked finally, tapping the wand against the bed in exasperation.

"Do you want me to try?" I offered.

"No, no, I've got it!" she said forcefully. She looked at the wand, and then threw it down, as if angry at it for not doing her bidding. "Oh, just wear the frock, it's pretty! Now, I'll show you how to flip your hair…" She demonstrated, then had me follow her example. I'm afraid I need a tiny bit more practice with the hair-flip, but I got the general idea. Then, the finishing touch: a pink flower for my hair, because "pink goes good with green." Galinda showed me my reflection in her pink compact mirror.

I'll admit, I was nervous. I mean, give a freak make-up and she's just a freak in make-up, right? But I looked—I hesitate to say pretty, but that's actually how I looked. Pretty. Not Galinda's kind of beauty—after all, I was still green—but for the first time I noticed how my hair fell around my face, how my eyes sparkled (Nessa always said they were my best feature, but I never believed her), how I wasn't too thin or too fat…I'm not trying to be vain, it's just for the first time I was somewhat comfortable with myself. I glanced at Galinda, who smiled, then back in the mirror. I was so surprised that I didn't even thank Galinda, but ran outside, too, well, too startled to think.

After I collected my thoughts, I went back into our room. Galinda was asleep on her bed. On mine was an outfit, a white blouse and black skirt that I forgot I'd even brought with me, and a note, straight and simple. "Wear these today—Galinda."

How could I have been so wrong about Galinda? Do we really let outside appearances affect judgment that much? I mean, if Galinda had also been green, but still Galinda, would we have gotten along from the start instead of fighting for so long? But, then again, what of the constraints that society forced on Galinda? Being so pretty and popular led people to believe that you were also stupid and shallow. And that is what I think happened to Galinda. She dumbed down to fit a stereotype, the Blonde Beauty/Bimbette. Does that make any sense, imaginary reader (if you exist, of course)? Galinda, the prime example of a stereotype on the surface, probably had to work to become one.

If I become all that Galinda says I will be (which I doubt, but still), I vow never to dumb down like Galinda most likely did.

Elphaba