Le maudit Mo D.

sham/poo

While other people are stressing out about jobs, money, relationships, faulty home wiring/plumbing, venereal diseases, and the outcomes of competition-based television programs that I do not watch, my concern du jour is finding a new bottle of shampoo. I have great difficulty with shampoo. I know, it's a tragedy on par with the decimation of the rain forest, so I know that you, my reader, are sincerely concerned.

Most American shampoos are marketed to make people believe there is something wrong with their hair. "Flyaway frizzy hair" needs to be tamed with "volumizing" products, since people with fine, frizzy hair are one step away from plugs and/or rejection. A lot of people damage their hair with chemical colorants, so people with "color-treated hair" have their own Balkanized shampoo section. Brightly colored bottles of fragrance and sodium lauryl sulfate are supposed to mend hair-related imperfections, smell good, and make you feel good about yourself. Denizens of hearty Middle Eastern stock blessed with healthy, thick, dark locks with a bit of wave, however, are not catered to, and so now that my bottle of Rusk Calm is almost out, it must be replaced, and there is no shampoo that caters to me and my otherwise likable hair.

I don't need volume. My hair poofs up in the Texas humidity like a mushroom cloud. I haven't colored my hair since a collegiate application of Manic Panic, so that thick, creamy, moisturizing stuff is like putting lotion in my hair. A nice, clean, clarifying shampoo works best for me, but clarifying isn't the in thing among shampoo manufacturers. I am lost.

Bob had a tragic fan moment this morning where the object of his fanly affections, MJP e-mailed me and confessed to forgetting Bob's name and then asked ME out for coffee! Poor Bob! If Martin Donovan ever wants to coffee with Bob, I'll certainly be hurt and confused. And demand a picture with Martin, OMG!!!

And Amy, omg Amy Amy Amy, how can you think MBG isn't cute? I admit, I have unorthodox taste in men, but MBG was perhaps the most orthodox of them all! He's orthodox! Like a freaking rabbi, his looks play by the rules. And he has a beard. Kosher, like a pastrami sandwich. (No, he isn't Jewish, but even turbo-Jew former roommate Lydia found him devastatingly attractive)

Right now, I'm just into Martin Donovan. And Bob, but that's a given.