April 19, 2005

Jaymi would like me to print a retraction to yesterday's scattered and imprecise *FootNotes* entry, wherein I made it sound as though I was miffed because she didn't call me over the weekend, whilst her sister and brother BOTH favored me with spontanteous, out of the blue,  just-to-say-hello/not-calling-for-money (although-next-week-IS Dad's-birthday) phone chats.

Snippets of last night's huffy i.m. conversation:

Jaymi: I talk to you every day!!!
Jaymi:  Now I'm not speaking to you anymore.
Jaymi:  I guess that you and I are just growing apart. Sniff.
Jaymi:  my toofy hurts.

Of course she's absolutely correct. I DO talk to her every day, at least during the week, when we're both sitting in our respective offices 700 miles apart with easy access to the Internet and limitless "free" long distance ... and then again in the evenings, when we're both sitting in our respective apartments 700 miles apart, in our respective Happy Pants.  We i.m. for at least half an hour or so, three or four nights a week. Last night's scintillating topics of i.m. conversation, besides what a sucky mother I am: Kimberley Stewart replacing Nicole Richie on "The Simple Life" ... which hurts more - a root canal or an infected ingrown toenail? ... the possibility of auctioning Jaymi off on *FootNotes,* in a sort of "Help Find Daughter #1's Next Boyfriend" contest. (HER idea, I swear to god. She's fed up with Match.com, apparently.) I also related to her this story from my workplace, which still has us both sort of slack-jawed in amazement:

Becky from the Geonerd Department -- although she's actually one of the (few) non-nerdy geotechs: she faxes her own invoices  to Accounting, she isn't a pointless speakerphone addict AND she never stands in front of my desk at 7:56 a.m. asking me if we've got any Super Glue -- went to a wedding over the weekend, somewhere near Washington D.C.  She and her boyfriend were attending as guests of the bride, but during the course of the ceremony they noticed that people were making a huge noisy fuss over one of the groomsmen. Lots of cameras going off, lots of people crowding around him asking for autographs, etc. Becky didn't know who he was, but eventually she asked another guest what all the fuss was about.

"That's Ryan Seacrest," said the other guest.

But here's the amazing part: Becky STILL didn't know who he was!  She doesn't watch "American Idol," apparently. "His hair was messy," was all she really had to say about him afterwards.  (That, and the fact that he was very "little.") So naturally she wasn't one of the milling hoardes, trying to score an autograph.  If I'd been at the wedding, I doubt that I would have approached him for an autograph either -- I already have my Joe Millionaire autograph, thanks -- but I probably would have pulled the Motorola out of my purse and taken a quicky blurry camera pic of the guy, just for posterity. Or for *FootNotes.*

But anyway.  Back to the point, which is the fact that I DO, in fact, hear from Daughter #1 on a near-daily basis, and that she's a good attentive daughter who loves her mother and checks in regularly and involves me in her life, and I apologize profusely if I inadvertently made it sound otherwise.

But she's still not getting a pony.

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~ nil bastardum carborundum ~

although i might take her to the circus someday.
OH how she LOVES those clowns.