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Before I tell you about the worst date of all time, which in fact is not even true because once in 1988 a guy picked me up already drunk then told me I was white trash before appetizers, and really THAT one was worse, I have two important details to tell you, even though last night's date said, "Why does anyone want to read your minutiae?"
So hang on while I fill you in on the minutiae, will you?
Minuatiae #1: I really haven't been talking to Marvin a lot, but yesterday I was driving to Raleigh and America's Top 40 with Casey Kasem was on. Is it Kasey Kasem? I'd look it up but I don't feel like it because I am in a bad mood. On my satellite radio, every Saturday they'll play America's Top 40 from the current week, but from a year from 1970-1979. This week they were playing 1979.
Well. You know that's a good year. So I am afraid I called Marvin and got his voicemail. And perhaps I may have sung Don't Cry Out Loud by Melissa Manchester.
You know, I never insist you watch the embedded video. Dude. Today I insist. I don't care if you're driving. I don't care if you're gonna get fired. It is seriously the most disturbing thing you have ever seen.
Anyway, you know how I am. Oh, how I bellowed into Marv's voicemail, because you know how he always enjoyed my singing voice. And how I was not banned from singing in the house at all.
What I did not know was that Marvin was at a conference, right next to his boss, and that he tried to surreptitiously listen to his voicemail during some lecture, and apparently the DON'T CRYYYYY OUT LOUUUUUD! Just keep it inSIIIDE! was so loud, people starting turning around to look at him.
Do you know who misses me?
Minutiae #2: Once I got to my hairdresser, she came around to the side of my face to paint on some color, and she said, "If your eyelashes get any longer they're gonna look FAKE! Holy crap!"
I adore my Latisse. So bad.
Anyway, finally it was time to paint on a smile and take up with some clown, so I headed over to the restaurant to meet my date. And just to recap, I went out with this guy once, in October, literally two days after Daniel Boone and I broke up. I sobbed the whole way to the restaurant, dried my eyes because I am not one of those people who get all blotchy after crying, had THE BEST TIME, then got in the car and cried the whole way home.
So I didn't see the guy after that because I was too caught up in the Daniel Boone thing, but at Christmas this guy'd emailed me and I said, "You were so great. Whatever happened, there?" and he was all, "I'll tell you what happened. You broke my heart a little because I thought we had a great time." So we decided to go on another date.
I walked in and there he was and he is still really cute. He is. Even though he may as well slapped me repeatedly with a bag of marbles and the evening would've been more rewarding, I do have to say he is cute.
"You look really good!" he said. So, yay. We think the other is attractive. That pretty much ended the positive portion of the evening.
I thought things were going well, as the conversation was flowing, but the thing is, if you're with me there's never gonna be a lull, you know? So maybe I should stop using that as a gauge. "So, in these three months, all you've had are casual dates? Nothing has stuck?" I asked him.
"No, that's not exactly true. There is one person who's asking for exclusivity and I said I'd think it over."
"When did that happen?"
"Thursday."
...!
"So, am I the deciding factor? I feel awful."
"No, no. I went out with someone last night, too. You're not the deciding factor."
So that was disconcerting. And then he said, "I don't think I'd want to keep up with you. It's too exhausting. All the witty banter back and forth. I don't know if I'd want to work that hard."
Wow. I mean. Wow. Where is it written that if I say something funny you have to say something hilarious back? Is that what people think? Am I that scary? I don't WORK to say funny things back. And every single thing I say isn't hilarious. I'm no Shecky Green.
THEN...yes, then, there's more, he said, "I don't know. I think you're too intimidating. With the being smart and quick and famous."
Famous? And smart and quick are bad things?
And that's when he started trashing my blog. "What IS your blog address, anyway? I know you're gonna write about me, and I stopped reading it last time after I wasn't mentioned anymore. I really don't get your blog."
There have been times in my life when in retrospect I've thought, why didn't I just get up and leave? And last night was one of those times. Honestly I was so stunned that it took me till I got halfway home to even feel anything.
And that thing was rage.
But at the moment, I handed him my fancy new blog card. "Oh, the woman I'm seeing would hate this. She'd get all suspicious about what this was."
"So, are you going to decide to see her exclusively?" I asked. I caught on because I'm quick. And famous.
"Yeah, I'm gonna do it." And then he got out his phone and showed me pictures of her and began reading her texts.
So I went on a date with someone and they decided they wanted to be exclusive. With someone other than me. Honestly, am I covered in Repulsivity Shield? I know that isn't a thing but I swear I have it. Kind of like gingivitis. Didn't advertisers just kind of make that up?
I called Tall Boy on the way home, who I am seeing a movie with today and who by the way is also seeing someone exclusively, and did I ever tell you we broke up because he wasn't ready to date exclusively?
"I GIVE UP!" I screeched at Tall Boy. I told him the whole story, and he insisted my blog is hilarious, which believe it or not was the worst part of all that, and somehow TB knew that and I'm glad that's what he dwelled on. "I mean, your minutiae is funny. If you can make that crap funny, people read it."
Then he had to go email the woman he's dating exclusively.
Oh my god, I hate everything. Oh! But my hair is good! Here:
I am sad about Heidi Klum and Seal, which is not at all pathetic of me, because I know them really well and Heidi Klum and I are like this. But they always seemed so happy, and like such a hot couple, and once again I'd like to remind you of the many times they came over and the marathon phone sesh Heidi and I had that time.
To add patheticness to delusion, I checked America's Top News Source, TMZ, to get the full story, and of course there WAS none, other than they have irreconcilable differences. Gee, do they? That tells us a lot. But in the comments someone said, "Seal looks like my ass with teeth."
And I am sorry but I fell out my chair in hysterics. Because you know that's awful. And yet hilarious. Ass with teeth. Poor Seal.
While I'm on the topic of stalking people, you know how I love the new girl at work?
LOVE.HER. Do you think she'd think it was weird if I followed her around with my bottom teeth out like Edsel?
Here are the shoes she wore to work yesterday.
No, seriously. Like, if I rested my chin on her desk while she worked, that's no big deal, right? And did the Edsel sigh? Hmmmmmmmmm.
you no, edzul resent. do not spend ALL day followeeng m--oh who edz kiddeeng. where you go now, mom?
I must go now, because Iris has her follow-up vet appointment.
she do?
There is a chance they may have to remove her wonky eye altogether.
wait. wats?
I will inform you as developments warrant. Oh, did I tell you I have a second date with the guy from the other night? Whose blog name is going to be Ranger Johnson, and we did not get that from doing the porn name thing at all. His dad had, like, four dogs as a kid through the years and named them all Ranger. Then when this guy was a kid, they got a dog and guess what they named it?
I mean, take EIGHT SECONDS and think of something else. How could you refer to the dogs of the past? "Remember when Ranger got that skunk?" You'd be all, wait. Which EFFING RANGER?
iris see gud! playing! playing gud! not to take out eye, pleez.
*You know, I heer it just awful, Iris. Terrible surguree. Lily haf many storee she can tell you.*
Okay. Going. Not berserk today at all.
A few days ago, in the labyrinth of my comments, Faithful Reader Jan made the fateful mistake of telling us all that she used to write poetry about her boyfriends when she was sad in high school.
I told Jan she was banned from my blog until she came up with said poetry. You should know that a few years back, I had to have a stupid MRI for my migraines and it was no big deal but of course I MADE it a big deal, but Jan really DID have a big medical deal and as soon as she woke up from HER thing, she asked her sister, "Did June get her MRI results yet?"
So what I'm saying is I'm a super, super good person.
Without further ado, let's all laugh at Jan's pain and angst.
Poor Jan. She lost something once solid. So did I, when I had that stomach bug the other day. Also, Jan, I work right next to a poet, and not only is she a poet, she TRAVELS THE COUNTRY because she is asked to READ said poems in major cities all the time. Also, she just won a national award.
I forwarded her your poems. Oh, you are welcome. It was nothing.
I always like a comma after 70 question marks. Poor Jan. Her feelings ceased. Or someone's did. I guess hers didn't. Her heart died and her eyes cried. I mean, I glean she was the heart-dier and eye crier from this scenario. Also, Nancy Kerrigan called. Wants her line back.
Was there ANYONE who had just a smooth time in high school? "High school? Oh, I was a cheerleader and had one boyfriend and we never broke up. My skin was clear and I had great friends and nothing bad happened. Ever. I never went around singing Open Arms like it was good."
If there is anyone who had that experience, please leave a comment and your address, so the rest of us can come toilet paper your house.
In other news, when I wasn't receiving dog flowers (see post below), I went on a date last night and could not find my skirt. I hate everything. I mean, I didn't lose my skirt DURING the date, which would have rendered it way more PG-rated than it was. But I'd planned the outfir days ago, and was going to wear my gray skirt and lacy black top, and I even HAD THE SKIRT IN MY HANDS and said, Oh, good. Skirt's clean.
Then when it was time to get ready, do you think that #$%$&#&# thing was anywhere? ANYWHERE? And have you ever tried to frantically search your house with 100 pounds of dog and two cats DIRECTLY UNDER YOU at all times? Why do I have the clingiest animals ever created?
So I wore jeans. I mean, I wore a shirt too, but the whole thing was not what I had planned and here. I took a picture right before I left.
I am in my coat, so you can see none of the outfit, except the flower pin Miss Doxie sent me that was on my coat. I note I took this at 6:57, which is nice because I was supposed to be there at 7:00.
And here I am, back home, at 10:12. No worse for the wear, really. Wouldn't it be sad if I did not go on a date at all last night and I just sat here for three hours and 15 minutes and took these photos?
Anyway, further reports on that as developments warrant. And this was not the guy who I owe a date to because I got sick. I am getting my roots done Saturday in Raleigh and am seeing him after. Although he does not live in Raleigh. I realize that made little sense.
I guess that's all I had to tell you, except I have no cavities and spent $95 on a new Oral B. I already HAVE an Oral B and if you do not have one I highly recommend it. First of all, my checkups are way better and no, I'm not getting paid to say this. Plus I'm certain its better for the environment to throw away a small toothbrush head rather than a whole toothbrush. But I've had my Oral B, and how many times can I say "Oral B," for a few years now, and the handle itself was not really clean and I couldn't GET it clean and it was bugging me. So I got another one. And my hygienist told me to stop putting so much toothpaste on the teensy brush head.
I know that was riveting.
And I do have one more thing I almost forgot. I would never vote for Newt Ginrich. You know how I feel about political things. I HATE the attitude that people who don't agree with us politically must be idiots, or the enemy, or pure evil. But I do not agree with him and would never vote for him based on that. However? I am 100% in support of him on this.
I do! What someone says to his WIFE, while they are struggling to keep their MARRIAGE afloat, is (a) none of our business no matter what and (3) does not make him lacking in character. It just doesn't. It's ridiculous. And petty. And I similarly didn't care what Bill Clinton was doing over there with a dress from The Gap, either. Could we move on from people's personal lives?
If we looked at ANY of our personal lives, we'd find something that looked not-so-great. Geez.
That's all I have to say about that. Jan, could you write a poem about it?
Thank you, Faithful Reader Peter. I GOT DOG FLOWERS! Dying.
I just got back from having dinner with The Other June, and I am writing this before I go to bed. I have a dentist appointment early Thursday morning, so I am writing my post at night, and let me tell you. Things are fascinating over here at House of June.
I hate getting my teeth cleaned. It makes me nervous. And my dentist always comes in after and says, "Mmm. MMMMM! Oh, mmmm. Yeah, how long have you had that old filling?" He's always trying to get ye olde filling replaced that Benjamin Franklin put in for me in 1742, and hadn't Benjamin Franklin been long dead by 1742? June. Knowing her history.
Anyway, my blacksmithed filling is still working FINE, and I don't see why it can't stay in there. It makes a great weather vane, too!
In other news, The Other June and I had a delicious dinner at a pretentious restaurant that serves Southern food, which is kind of redundant. I mean, we're in the South. It's kind of funny to me that they have a fancy restaurant where you can go get...Southern food. Nevertheless, everything was just effing delicious and I highly recommend it. It's called the Southern something-or-other. Get there tout suite.
After dinner, The O.J. came to my house so she could meet Iris and Lily. In the time she has known me, she has met baby Henry,
Baby Roger:
Baby Anderson Cooper:
and now baby Iris.
(I didn't just take that while she's right here on me or anything.) (purring and clutching the pearls.)
Could I stop PLOWING THROUGH CATS, PLEASE?
Also, she came to visit not-baby Lily.
*You understand Lily pretty-est cat ever. That go wifout saying.*
Lily gets her own font, with asterisks, she is so pretty.
And in case you wonder what the hell happened to all those cats because you just got here last Tuesday or something, Marvin took Henry when he left, then delicate, gay Anderson hated living with dogs so I said to Marvin, "Maybe you'd better take Anderson too." So now Anderson and Henry live in connubial bliss, even though I don't really know what connubial means. Then Roger got killed last month and let's talk about that a lot because that doesn't still make me miserable to think about our anything, so I got Iris and Lily at the pound just now.
Anyway. Oh! And before I got up with The Other June and we had our redundant Southern food and she once again met some cats I got, I got me a manicure over at the Elegant Nails & Tan. To which I say, "Define elegant."
My point is, my manicurist talked me into getting this gel manicure, which supposedly will stay on for the rest of my life.
The color is Lincoln Park After Dark, and I had better like it, because apparently I'm being buried in it.
We had a big talk, the manicurist and I, about how she studied French in high school and then in college studied accounting and forgot all her French, then got here and knew very little English. I always wonder how bad it must be to have to move here, give up all that schooling, thrust yourself into a country where you don't know the language, and have to work six days a week as a manicurist.
She works way more than 40 hours a week. She works the whole time the salon is open. How dreadful. Oh! And the woman next to me works for the place that invented those faces on trees. You know how you can buy those woody-looking faces for your tree? Yeah. Also, before she left for her manicure, she told her husband, "I put dinner in the oven, but you have to check it once in awhile." He said, "Well, what am I looking for?"
She was irritated. Also there were two women there getting pedicures and drinking wine. The woman who invented the tree faces told me those women come in all the time. Bring their own cooler. I noticed it took them an hour and a half to drink one glass of wine. What is the point of schlepping a whole cooler of alcohol to the pedicure place if you're not going to drink alcoholically?
I guess that's all I have to tell you. Except that we have a new woman at work and I love her. Today she wore a leopard skirt, a pink shirt with a big flowery frilly thing, and pink sparkly shoes. And she has this framed print in her office that is a picture of Cinderella, and the picture is from the book I had as a kid.
I had TOTALLY FORGOTTEN about this picture but then it all came back to me. This lead me to bring in my fairy tale book from my childhood, which had the most beautiful pictures:
Oh, I used to sit for hours and stare at these pictures. Here is lofty Edsel-looking wolf putting his paw on Little Red June.
I always wanted to find elf and bird tea parties. And did I? Not till I did hallucinogens in college.
I actually have never done hallucinogens. Unless you count Benadryl, which makes me see funny colors and jump off high-rises because suddenly I have peacock wings that fly.
Dude, my swan allergies are killing me. Dude, my princess allergies are killing ME!
I should totally frame these, shouldn't I? Aren't they beautiful? When I really couldn't read I used to make up stories that went with them, kind of like now with the swan allergy story. Not much has changed through the years, except now I apparently have Lincoln Park on my nails for life.
Hold still, darling, and we'll just jooge your flower a little and--voila! FABULOUUUUS! Ernesto, bring that mirror, you lazy antelope. You'd let the lion eat you if it meant moving off the plain while Real Serengeti Wives was on. Oh, sweetheart, you're GORGEOUS! I could EAT YOU UP if I weren't a grass-eating queen!
Maybe I need to get out more.
Talk to you tomorrow, when I have sparkly new teeth. I mean, except for ye olde fyllyng from Geoffrey Chaucer.
I hate it when I'm dreaming about work and then the alarm goes off. I really should be getting paid for that time. Also? I cannot begin to tell you how annoying it is that the moment I wake up, Edsel straddles me and licks me on the lips. It's disgusting. I feel all Lucy Van Pelt. DOG GERMS! GET THE IODINE!
Must he do it right on the LIPS? No wonder I got sick. Blech. Why must that dog be so passionately in LOVE with me? It's irritating.
Last night the Tall Boy came over, as planned, to watch Say Anything. It goes without saying that he liked it, and I do not want anymore annoying discussion in the comments about "Oh, was that the movie where John Cusak travels to LA to bang a chick?" If you haven't seen it, just do not TELL me. Cause you're gonna make me mad. Did I not say it was required viewing for this blog? I did. Don't MAKE me come there and smack you with Joan Cusak's liver.
I don't know why I had to pick Joan.
The point is, we made these elaborate plans and I don't even own the movie. I guess the other 494954 times I've watched it we Netflixed it or it was just on or something. So I had to go on Amazon and buy it. I did not TRAVEL TO the Amazon, which would've been dramatic.
What in the Sam Holy Hill did we all ever do without Amazon? Two days ago I did not own this movie. Literally two minutes on my computer, and the thing gets sent to me. God, I love today.
How would Lloyd Dobbler have wooed Diane Court in 2012? Sent her a YouTube video of In Your Eyes? Because it's not the same. Texted her? "standg in yr yrd. n yr eyz. th lgt th heet. yr eyz. lol."
Anyway, Tall Boy said that Edsel was night and day different, with his new fancy raining. Raining. TRAINING. His new fancy training. He also rains. Am hoping to make million dollars from this new trick. Edsel did not jump on Tall Boy, which would have required a javelin anyway, and he did not get all up in TB's grille when we were eating. During the movie, Eds curled up in his dog bed and went to sleep. Tallulah ambled to actual bed and flumped into her regularly scheduled slumber.
Iris, however, slept purring on Tall Boy the entire movie. I do not know if I've mentioned to you that Iris is a blind tramp. She will sleep on anybody. Mostly because she has no idea if this is the same or a whole new person. But she purrs like a grinder and charms everyone with her teensy while paws.
I would have taken pictures of this but I was too busy watching Say Anything. And I am sorry to tell you that every scene where Cory is obsessed with Joe tickles me anew, even though I've seen it 200 times. "Her family is being ripped apart. Like Joe and I were ripped apart."
Who got obsessed like that in her high school years? Was it June? Had June been able to play the guitar, would she have written 65 songs about Cardinal, her high school boyfriend who now reads this blog? Hello, Cardinal. You invade my soul. Okay, you don't, but sometimes you invade the comments.
Oh, and speaking of my many nonboyfriends, yesterday on this very blog, there was an ad at the side for dog flowers.
Okay, this is a Christmas one, but you get the idea. Tasteful? Unridiculous? NECESSARY?
I found the link for the flowers, which wasn't tough because the ad was on my own blog and all, and sent it to, oh, 80 of my friends. I also included my work address and said anyone who wanted to send me dog flowers could feel free.
I got a lot of "don't hold your breath" replies, WHICH I AM. I AM HOLDING MY BREATH TILL I GET THE FLOWERS, and WON'T YOU FEEL BAD WHEN I DIE, and I also got this from a different ex-boyfriend:
Everyone's a comedian. In the time he spent doing this, he could have just ordered the damn dog flowers.
Okay, I must shower before getting into my street attire. I feel bad about Dooce. She and her husband separated. Did y'all see that? I feel like I know her. It bothered me all night.
Maybe Dooce needs a nice dog flower bouquet. I could have them send it with something on the dog's head, like Chuck always has.
Okay, really going now. Because like dog flowers, this post was necessary and unridiculous.
My life has been redackulous since before Christmas. Have you noticed that? Have you gone around thinking of little else other than my life since Christmastime? Why not?
First I had the incident with the money, where I accidentally sent $1,600 to a credit card, when I meant to send $200 (I clicked the wrong CALENDAR on their website. That's all I did! I clicked the right DOT to pay $200, but then they asked, "Wait! What day did you want to pay?" and they directed me back to the page, and I clicked the calendar--the CALENDAR!!--next to the "pay my whole bill" thing, and it paid my stupid credit card $1,600. Yes, I do owe that much on my credit card. It's my vet credit card. What did you THINK was on that thing? Have you met my life?).
So I went all of Christmas with negative $600 in my checking account before I got THAT straightened out, and I still owe my stepgrandmother a Christmas gift. My stepgrandmother, who has 97378 real grandchildren, yet never forgets to send me a birthday and a Christmas card, each with $20 in them.
I am a jerk.
Then I had 58 visitors from Christmas till after the new year, and it doesn't bug me at all when people capitalize "new year" incorrectly.
As soon as everyone left, I had an ENORMOUS book due for the statistics textbook company for whom I freelance, an even bigger one than usual. It had line numbers and articles that I had to compare word-for-word, and references at the end of each article that I had to compare letter by letter, and an answer key that also referenced the dang line numbers, and I wonder if you could just club me about the head.
And if that weren't pressure enough, then I had to get all SICK, and be unable to even SIT UP without waves of hideous nausea crashing over me, rendering me unable to look at the book for days at a time, so even though the book was supposed to be mailed out yesterday for Tuesday delivery, I didn't get it in the
FED EX!!
box until after 11:00 p.m. Because it was not imperative that I watch the extra-long Real Housewives last night while I worked. Or anything. They added an extra 15 minutes last night, because there was too much drama to pack in to just an hour.
If you ever catch me dating a man who looks or acts like Ken, I want you to club me about the head more than you just did. Ken the hideous one, not Ken the endearing Brit with the mullet. Did he really need to stand outside the bathroom UNENDINGLY like that? Irritating.
If you do not watch Real Housewives, there is just no reason to read this blog. In fact, I don't see how you can read this blog if you haven't seen It's a Wonderful Life, Say Anything or Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.
Which leads me to my point. The Tall Boy, who I dated for precisely one month of my life (Tall Boy. November-November 2011), has never seen Say Anything, and this bugs the CRAP out of me. It does. What in hell has he been doing since 1989 that could be remotely better than watching Say Anything? Huh? What? WHAT? Bagging women? Writing a book, which he did? Having a cool job and living in New York, which he also did? Oh, so what. SEE SAY ANYTHING.
So tonight, he is coming over and we are watching it. We have been trying to arrange this night for 48 nights, but I kept working or barfing or working and barfing. The house is a wreck, and you know how tidy he is, but tough shitsky, said the sailor. My grandmother used to say that and I have no idea what it means.
Do you think I should give up on trying to get Fed Ex dollars? How long have I been trying to suck up to them with that
FED EX!!!!
thing? Like, four years now? Have I gotten one thin dime from those em effs?
I will go now, and I leave you with dumb pet photos. Such as this one of Lily smacking her bitch up with her tail.
I never showed you this one of Tallulah being super-polite while Pal was here.
we luff momma. too maaach.
Okay. Going.
WHEN HARRY MET SALLY! I don't see how you can read this blog without having watched that, either. "You mean Joe is available?"
