Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Oh, charming Prince you befuddle me with your words.

I lead a blessed, fulfilled life. My days are Grace Kelly-glamourous, from the moment my perfectly pedicured toes hit the floor, until I lay my head down on my lavender scented, 1200-thread count pillowcase at night.  

Every day, I thank my lucky stars to be surrounded by like-minded trendsetters, and the Who's Who of contemporary design. My agenda is peppered with brain-storming breakfast sessions; power lunches with motivational thinkers; and cocktails with cutting-edge movers and shakers. I am in awe of my peers and how their insightfulness enlightens others. Their brilliant, inner-sparkle motivates and challenges me.

Just the other day, I had a conversation I'll share with you. It went something like this:  

"Colin, sweetheart, how many times do  have to tell you not to wipe your hands on the shower curtain".

"But it looks like a towel".

"I know it looks like a towel, but it's not a towel. It's a shower curtain."

"But it looks like a towel."

"I know it looks like a towel, but it is a shower curtain. Do you wipe your hands on the shower curtain at home?"

"Not if there's a towel." 

Here's another noteworthy, life-altering classic from my memoirs:

"Jack, you know what soap is, right?"


"Well, you know when you're in the shower that you use soap – everywhere – and rinse it off  until you're clean, right?"

"Then, why are there skid marks on the towels?"


"How come there are always skid marks on the towels?"

"I dunno. But if it bugs you so much, why don't you buy brown towels."

I could go on and on, waxing poetic about the witty banter that consumes my days. But I have to go. I hope you understand. We really need to catch up. Let's do lunch. Call me.