When I was younger, I would beg my parents to not get a dishwasher, because I loved washing dishes (or potatoes, even) by hands. The water was either pleasantly cool and dirty, or appropriately warm and soapy, and my hands could sort of move of their own accord in that pleasant environment of the kitchen sink. But the real appeal was not in the sink or the soap or the vegetable scrubber: the attraction was in a window above the sink. One could look out the window and focus on the grass or the birds or the trees or nothing at all and go on in this way for hours - or at least I could - and then, in this glorious state, I would plan stories.

If Christie was right, I should have several bestsellers right now - but perhaps it is unfair to discredit her immediately on those grounds. After all, I was hardly planning a book - more inventing tales that were best left to tumble 'round my mind before they were lost in the vortex of memory. I certainly was not doing the dishes, either - a very bad pretense of doing the dishes is the most that can be said for my dreamy splashing in the water. So perhaps Ms. Christie may prove correct after all.

We had the S girls over last night, two fours of us all together, and we ate potato wedges (Evelyn might like to call them chips) and watched Newsies. Then I dashed through a hasty shower and ran off to work as the other settled down to curl hair for today's halftime show and make mysterious facial products out of ordinary inhabitants of the kitchen food cabinets. I won't say much about these, but the results held a sort of dubious allure.

By the way, I did most of the internet research leading up to this glorious facial-production, and I learned several very interesting things.

Honey - plain, by itself - makes the best facial mask. Wipe your face with a warm cloth before smearing it on; leave for 15-30 minutes and then rinse with warm water. Finally rinse with cold to shut your pores.

Green tea (and I mean brewed and cooled) works as toner.

Grapes - by themselves as well - are one of the best cleansers. As far as I can tell, you're supposed to mangle them and then rub the peels onto your face (astringency and all that).

Avocado - facial softener and all that rot. You know about this one.

Miracle Whip functions as a brilliant exfoliator. Allegedly if you follow the directions (google them), removing it takes off so much dead skin that you can feel it, leaving one to wonder (as one internet writer put so well) exactly what it does to one's stomach...)

There were millions of things to be done with pear, apple, mayonnaise, brown sugar, egg white, turmeric... and stuff we didn't have on hand, like jasmine oil, sandalwood, etc... I'm not big into beauty products or being all-natural and healthy (much less the adage "don't put anything on your skin you wouldn't eat" - because I might try the miracle whip thing, just to see, but I am definitely not eating that stuff...) but hey! The way I see it, if you have things on hand, you might as well use them rather than spending hundreds of dollars on products containing goodness knows what. Plus, the research makes for a good laugh.

Today - long, mostly smooth drive down to Norman for the OU game. We only missed one exit and took a brief tour of scenic Bricktown. (Perhaps I have not made this clear enough: scenic is used sarcastically. As in, the parts we saw merely featured too many one-way streets and a plethora of streetbums with their lives in pillowcases.) The game was rather boring. Sooners were whomping the Eagles (Coppin State, I think) 45-23 when we left after halftime. And I now know what a sinking feeling of despair is: the "I'm not going to make it" feeling when you have four counts to get halfway across a court, and then the "I'm not going to make it any farther" feeling you get after accomplishing the previous task. The drive home was uneventful. When I drove I tormented everyone by singing along to Christian rap/pop songs, half of which I didn't know. You shake your head at me, but 'tis fun. (And a word to the wise - Valero gas pumps have weird hoops you have to jump through to pay. Or at least the ones in Scenic Guthrie. I have never had one ask for my zip code before - but maybe I've been unnecessarily sheltered. Homeschooling and living in Hickville - twice - can do that to you.)

My mother figured out I like canned soup (an odd taste, I guess - I also have a thing for Kraft macaroni and Ramen noodles. Gross, maybe, but true. Probably because they were a rarity when I was small and thus a treat.). She bought some for me when I came down with the cold a week and a half ago, and I guess she got the strong impression that I liked it (delusional ravings? I don't know). She has been making random donations of canned soup ever since. Every few days I raise my eyes and lo! the two cans of chicken noodle soup have miraculously multiplied! At first I thought it might be occuring mitotically, but my mother assured me the causes were much more pragmatically explicable. Shoot. There goes my senior thesis.

Anyway, all this comes to mind as I lift my tired, heavy eyes in the general direction of my shamefully-organized (read: piled) desk and catch glimpse of my soup supply. (I don't know why she puts them on top of my desk. Maybe it looks like a place for charitable donations of canned food. If so, this is a bad sign.)

My siblings are teasing Lib for playing computers game. Dani pretends to be one of her future children: "Mommy! Have you gotten to the seventh level yet? Mommy! It's my turn!" Ben protests, "No one cares about your Mummy's Tomb score!" (I am making up a random name...I know it involves "mummy," nothing more.)

I think I'll go watch Nancy Drew with them - I mean, did I say "watch Nancy Drew"? I meant to say, I think I'll blow this joint and go find a cool party. Because this is a Saturday night and I am in college and therefore immeasurably cool. And immeasurably cool people do not watch Nancy Drew. And my siblings aren't immeasurably cool. Yeah. You believe me.

And for those of you who might get this, Matt Smith? That's all I'm saying. MATT SMITH?!

4 Missages

1. Logan on January 3, 2009 at 8:19 PM

   I agree. Matt Smith doesn't do it for me.
   
   On a completely unrelated note, I like the word verification this time:
   "phrub"
   
   There's got to be a great definition for that word....

    
2. Elisabeth M on January 4, 2009 at 12:05 AM

   Matt Smith.
   
   Interesting choice. Young. Uglyish. Weird. Odd but Doctorish mannerisms. Time will tell.
   
   R.I.P, David Tennant. *sigh*
   
   I'm in college and I spend my Saturday nights wondering why my friends from Virginia, Korea, Alberta...wherever...aren't online. You've so got me beat, though.

    
3. Stephen on January 5, 2009 at 9:42 AM

   Meh, Matt Smith doesn't have anything compared to David Tennant.

    
4. Marigold on January 5, 2009 at 5:24 PM

   :-D
   
   Nice write-up of what the facial masks do. :-)
   
   I hope you enjoyed Nancy Drew.
   
   Matt Smith? I'm sure he'll be good. :-)