Sunday, March 09, 2008
Six Degrees of Monday And Brunettes
First of all, I was not telling a "nontruth"--I PROMISE a new look is coming soon. Get ready to fall off your chair. I'm just sayin'. And no, I still haven't posted that controversial post yet. It's written; I'm just waiting for the right time.
But now on to Six Degrees of Monday:
These are the lyrics to Monday, Monday by John Phillips of the Mamas and the Papas, who was the real life papa of Mackenzie Phillips of One Day at a Time, who was skinny, but Valerie Bertinelli on One Day at a Time was not skinny, so she went on Jenny Craig and got skinny and then went on Oprah, who is sometimes skinny, and Oprah's show starts every week on Monday--and that, my friend, is "Six degrees of Monday." You're welcome.
Monday Monday, so good to me,
Monday Monday, it was all I hoped it would be
Oh Monday morning, Monday morning couldn't guarantee
That Monday evening you would still be here with me.
If you're here for the Ultimate Blog party, you probably won't be here for me Monday evening. But that's OK. I decided over the weekend that I'm gonna have to get over checking Sitemeter, the new bathroom scale, to validate my existence 23 times a day. (I take an hour off to watch TV).
Stuff: London Update.
College Daughter's itinerary today: Westminster Abbey, Changing of the Guard, Cabinet War Rooms/Churchill Museum, parliament, Big Ben, St. James Park, Regent Street.
Did I mention to you, World, that my sweet daughter saved up and paid for this entire trip on her own? That is how awesome she is. And can I just throw in that she's a junior and has never once asked us for a penny? Not once. Not that I don't want to give her everything she needs and I would never want her not to ask if she needs anything at all, but it's the principle of it--of her. She's a wonderful daughter in so many ways. Can someone bring her back to me now?
More Stuff: Hair.
I have two brunette daughters. I am blonde. I have always been blonde. I do help mine along now, because no one is 45 and this blonde naturally. Except, of course, Morgan Fairchild, Loni Anderson and Linda Evans.
Both of my brunette daughters have a weird habit that grosses me out. Well, at one time they both did; the older is now delivered of this stronghold.
That is, when they shower and their long brunette hair comes out of their heads, I believe what happens is they twist it around their fingers and stick it to the shower wall.
I used to Hulk-out when they did this. The older one thought I was over-reacting. Then she went away to college. She came home and told me about how gross some girls in the dorm are--get this: they stick their hair on the shower wall.
So College Daughter now comes home on the weekend and "disciplines" Younger Daughter for modern-arting the shower wall. This makes me smile on the inside.
Usually I make Younger Daughter clean it off. She never remembers to do it on her own, of course.
Friday, College Son came home for the weekend. Before he got here, I went in to clean up the bathroom, pulled back the curtain and found ... a clean wall. I rubbed my eyes and looked again. Clean.
Excuse me while I go back in there now and pick my jaw up off the floor and bring it back in here to use as a paper weight on the computer desk.
I asked Younger Daughter if she cleaned up the bathroom. She said yes. I said, "What made you do that?" She said, "Mom, I always clean it up if someone is coming over."
This is a bold-face ... "nontruth."
She cleaned it off because her beloved older brother was coming home. She adores him. He is worthy of cleaning off the shower wall hair.
He is worthy.
PS: I'm writing at the Cafe today. Please come by for a THIRD cup of Coffee. Ha.