~Thursday~ When I got on the bus this morning, Madonna was brushing Genetically-Beautiful Daughter‘s genetically beautiful hair. I’m thinking about changing their name to Dorothy and Sophia so I can use the little girl’s real name. Anybody feel strongly about it one way or the other?
As if to mock my naming him My Three Sons, the family today was back to two kids. But get this, this time the little boy was there again in his little hoodie, but one of the older boys was absent. It’s like they’re playing the shell game with their kids, just to taunt me.
My officemate and teammate, Rhonda, met with Tim from the technical team from 1:00-2:00 to work on crafting an e-mail we’re going to send to students who participated in a Google pilot we had earlier in the year, and whom we’d like to invite to participate in another upcoming Google Apps for Education pilot.
We canceled our weekly 1.5-hour working team meeting that was supposed to follow that from 2:00-3:30, as me, Rhonda, and our manager, Jude, had a lot going on. I particularly wanted to get some stuff done before leaving on vacation in the morning.
I caught the 5:30 bus home, and immediately drove down to Great Clips at Mission Valley for a $7.99 haircut before getting out of town. They must be told to do two things at that salon: 1) sell products and 2) use the word “yellow” to scare the customers into using them.
You may remember one of the last times I got my haircut, the stylist talked about dandruff—differentiating between the “white kind” and the “yellow kind.”
This time the stylist, KevinScott ScottSteven, asked me what kind of gel I use, to which he said in trying to get me to buy some $8.95 tube of cream gel (the thought of which just disgusts me—I’m not getting my hands all full of that stuff putting it on), “A lot of people have stopped using the spray gel because it has a lot of alcohol in it. And alcohol can turn gray hair yellow.”
I met Steve H. at MoJoe’s for dinner, and we both had the Jack Daniels BBQ Hamburger for dinner, which was killer, and shared a basket of fries. Good food. Good company.
And bonus, since I parked carefully and legally this time, there wasn’t a ticket waiting for me on my windshield when I returned to my car.
Love, love, love this Prudie zinger today:
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Dear Prudence, I am a married man in my 30s, and I have known for some time now that I am quite well-endowed. Though my past girlfriends and wife have been enthusiastic about it, my problem is with how my wife treats this personal information. She discusses my size quite openly with her friends, which I understand is part of her “girl talk.” However, I recently found out that she told a female acquaintance whom she’d met for the first time! I am a fairly introverted person, and knowing that our friends have this information affects my social interaction with them. I have brought this issue up with her and asked her to tone it down, but her argument is that she is sharing something positive about me, and therefore it causes no harm. My wife and I have an otherwise stable and loving marriage, and I do not want this issue to be a bone of contention. How can I get my wife to stop broadcasting this? Or should I just accept it? —Zipped Up Dear Zipped, Bone of contention, indeed. At least this isn’t a version of the disappointing HBO series Hung, and she hasn’t offered to become your pimp. I agree that your wife’s blabbing to every woman of her acquaintance that you’re packing is a violation of the sanctity your marriage, even if it doesn’t rise to the level of making you want to pack your bags. She should realize it’s actually contrary to her self-interest to advertise your asset so widely, since she’s going to tantalize some women to want to join this members-only club. It’s also awfully rigid of her to dismiss your complaint that you feel no one looks you in the face because everyone has their eyes on the prize. Since her boasting is not petering out, perhaps she will better understand your beef if you offer her an analogy. Ask her to imagine how she would feel if you started telling all the males you know that her nipples are irresistibly pert and perky. If she says that’s nuts, and not the same thing at all, ask her to elucidate why not, since you, too, want to reveal something complimentary about her private parts. Tell her you wouldn’t actually do this because such intimate facts belong to the married couple, not the world. And add that since she so values your endowment, if she wants it to grow, not shrink, she needs to protect it better. —Prudie |
I had an early night, as I had yet to pack, and I had to be up at 4:00 in the morning to be to the airport by 5:00.