Laura and I went to church today, and yes I DO realize she just picked me up at PetSmart a few weeks ago and now here we are spending major holidays together already.
We went to Mosaic Church, which is a church specifically aimed at getting people of all colors to come. Hence the name. They are not trying to get people made out of tile.
{Bah.}
Anyway, it did indeed live up to its name and was pretty cool. There were dark people, pale people, in-between people, and so forth, and we sang songs in English and some other languages, which fortunately were put up phonetically on a big screen, and for all I know I was singing, "June is a giant tramp" but I am doubting it because it was, you know, church.
Unless that is a beloved hymn no one told me about. "When I die, I really want them to play June is a Giant Tramp. Will you be sure and have them play that for me?"
At any rate, when Laura first came to get me, Edsel did his usual solemn, well-behaved hello, which involved leaping 20 feet off the floor and attempting to mate with her, because Edsel is a Giant Tramp.
By the time we got in her car, we were both covered in dog fur, and I'd like to point out for the record that I brush this dog with a big wire brush every day, and 87 pounds of fur comes off. He loves being brushed. He gets a faraway, dreamy look when I do it.
Exhibit A
Nevertheless, he is Shedsel.
So when we got in her car, I spent the entire drive picking blond wispy dog fur off my pants, and I was also looking sexy because a few days ago I decided I should be the kind of person who wears high heels all the time. This was not a good idea.
Exhibit B
I know I am the only person in the world who gets blisters on TOP of her foot from wearing high heels. Perhaps I should stop wearing the heel part up there. You think?
At any rate, with the fur and the mature band-aid, by the time old Carrie Bradshaw here walked into that church, God was like,
"Yeah. I think I like it better when you stay home."
Do you like my God font?
Anyway, they played good music at this church, and they had us stand up and clap, and there was this ADORABLE old lady in front of us who danced and sang and swayed around and you just wanted to put her in your purse and bring her home like extra biscuits, and I decided to be happy like her, so I clapped...
...and a giant piece of Edsel fur went sailing out of my hand and up to the sky.
Nice. You can't take me anywhere. I really am like PigPen. Where is my horizontal shirt?
My theory is God kind of looks at me and claps his hand to his cheek like Jack Benny, and thinks, Oh, dear. I mean, he must wonder what he was thinking when he got around to the likes of me. You know?
At any rate, for those of you who celebrate Easter, have a happy one, and enjoy your ham, and don't feel bad about the movie Babe or anything. Because Laura and I didn't just stop off at Biscuitville and eat us some Babes and eggs ourselves. Nosir.
Your giant trampy pal,
June
