Less Than Three

Chapter Two: Corn Dogs and Orange Soda

"And if you are wondering where your phone is, I'll let you know when you finish your chores."

See what I mean? Pure. Evil.

"Oh, and Summer, honey, remember the website."

Right. The website. Thank you, dear mother, for reminding me.

Wednesday, June 11, 8:22 AM

Term of the Day: Mundane -- Characterized by the ordinary.

I hate running, even though I promised my coach I would run a mile every day this summer. I also hate anything cooked over a fire. (Have we not evolved at all?) I hate vacuuming too, and when people walk behind me. Oh! And I hate Dave Brown.

Seriously. I hate that kid so much that I refuse to wear HIS COLOR ever again. Last week my mom bought a brown dress for me. She said it would look "lovely" with my hair and skin. Maybe it would, but she'll never see me in it.

Wait! I take that back. Not the dress thing. If you're reading this Mom, (and I sincerely hope you are NOT) thanks, but no thanks. Not the Dave thing either. If you're reading this Dave, I will ALWAYS hate you. But the fire thing, I was wrong about that. I love, love, love s'mores.

Maybe I will include a Love/Hate list on my blog each day. Here's the first:

Things I Love:

My boyfriend Brady (of course)

S'mores (of double course)

My best friends Madison and Craig (of triple course)

The rest of my friends. (Enough with the course thing. It's getting mundane.)

Things I Hate:

Running

Cookouts

Waking up early on the first day of summer

Vacuuming (make that TO DO lists in general)

Evil phone hiding mothers

Have I mentioned Dave Brown?

Despite vacuuming and window washing, the first day of summer was not a total loss. Kiersten had to work at the coffee shop again, but Madison came over just after lunch. We browsed through magazines in preparation for the Great Swimsuit Quest. Finding the perfect suit wasn't going to be easy. We read at least a dozen articles that promised to show us how to: Flaunt Our Assets! Camouflage Our Trouble Spots! Become a TotalBeach Goddess! But none of them really delivered.

Madison and I came up with a theory. Because I am an excellent daughter, seeking to do something meaningful, I dutifully recorded it on my (ahem) website:

Swim Suit Models = Aliens. They are born on planets where an alternate gravitational pull makes only the right parts stick out.

Do you know what looking at three million bikini-clad extra terrestrial models can do to a girl's self esteem? In an effort to recover, I took a magazine quiz with my best friend today. We selected three words to describe ourselves. I chose Unique, Independent and Spunky. Madison picked Moody, Giddy and Hairy. She's right about the first two but not about the hair. She's a little furry in spots. Is that such a crime?

I don't think so.

Jacob, her boyfriend, probably does. Grrr.

"What are you doing?" Madison shrieked behind me as I hit the publish button.

"Just working on my website." I drew little quotation marks in the air as I said it.

"What is my name doing on a website about your mom's garden club?" Mad asked.

I explained my genius plan. "There are two websites, see? One to show my mom and one for me. It's like a diary, only, you know, more convenient." Then I sat back, prepared to bask in the glow of Madison's admiration. It didn't quite work out that way.

"It's like a diary," she echoed, "but one that anyone in the world can read."

"Come on, Madison, nobody but moms read blogs these days. They're so 2000s."

"I don't care," she said. "Leave me and Jacob out of it."

Jacob. Ja-a-a-y-cob. I should have known he was the reason she was pissed about the blog. She just didn't want to see the truth. Like my dad always says, I wish Madison would 'wake up and smell the coffee' about that boy. But no, she thinks she's in love.

<3

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