Dolls HATE coming to my house. Bad things always happen to them when they get here. They end up looking nice, but the pursuit of beauty is a painful process.

The current one is a My Size Barbie, destined to be a mermaid figurehead for Captain Morgan's ship, the Mhaighdean Mhara. (For an explanation of that, you can visit his website.) I've called her "Babs" for now, because she's so very, very BARBIE, and she will be until I can get rid of all that is pink and Barbie-like. So, Babs it is.

Poor Babs has no idea what she's in for...

She came to me already sans legs, so I'm not responsible for pulling those off. I was worried that I'd have to break an intact doll. At least this way I don't have to feel guilty about it. She was once a nice little girl's dollie, but then her legs got broken, and she ended up with me.

Now she's a legless freak with no hair. Life's funny that way...