That title is only funny if you know When Harry Met Sally by heart. To which I say, why on earth don't you know that movie by heart?
Yesterday I went to Hillsborough with ...friend, who I know I'm being super-not-obvious about, but just between you and me I kind of like him. I mean, I know it's impossible to tell. Because could 87 posts in the last month have been about ...friend? It'll be funnier when he starts to annoy me, but am currently in smitty-cat stage. Smitty-cat is totally a thing.
Anyway, we totally went to the old cemetery, because I like old cemeteries and fortunately so does ...friend. I was sad to see about Faithful Reader Paula H&B's demise, though.
While we were perusing the tombstones and wondering why all the women just had to get listed as" wife of" and "daughter of" instead of just, oh, being a person, this beautiful black cat came up to us, meowing. "Is a black cat in a cemetery a good sign?" wondered ...friend, who may or may not think as tragically as I do.
But oh, that kitty was nice. She had a collar, and there was a house right next to said cemetery, so really there was no excuse to steal her. ...friend has a white cat, and you know what'd look good with a white cat? Is a black cat. Just sayin'. And I wish I could tell you how bad the phrase "just sayin'" bugs me, and here I am using it. Okayyyyyyy? I just said, "Okayyyyy?" while bobbing my head around and snapping my fingers. Apparently goal today is to annoy own self.
Here is ...friend's cat. I took this with my cell phone a few weeks ago right after I gave my Using Super Extra Focus in Photography seminar.
Speaking of annoyed, I noted this tombstone with "Believe on the Lord" written on it. Now, I know I was a church secretary for six months, which should make me an expert, and I really feel like that should be "believe IN the Lord." Right? Okayyyyyy? {snap.}
"How awful would it be if your tombstone had a typo?" asked ...friend. "It's really more of a chisel-o," I pointed out, and if any of you are in charge of my tombstone could you PLEASE get a reputable proofer to look at the thing before it goes to print or whatever? Can you imagine me lying there for eternity with "June Gardens, Rest in Piece" on top of me?
Anyway, after communing with the dead, we had lunch, where I would like to announce ...friend had a giant hamburger. Am trying to drive home the part where HE IS NOT A VEGETARIAN. "What's a Kobe burger?" asked ...friend, who by the way takes 207 hours to decide what he wants on a menu. "Is that a burger made from Kobe Bryant?"
I had fried green tomatoes. And 86 of his fries. So I had fried and fried for lunch. Go, June! Rest in piece!
I do not know why I didn't take pictures after this, because we walked around and looked at old houses, and then we ended up on this mountain trail. There was a very--oh, you know why? Because I said, "Ima put my purse in the car if we're gonna walk around." That's why I took no pictures. You are going to have to pretend that you're Mary Ingalls, all blind, and I will paint you the story with my Laura Ingalls words.
So anyway, there was a very cranky Indian woman sitting on a bench right at the entrance to said mountain path. She had on a really pretty pink-and-pale-gray sari, and man she WAS sorry. What a sourpuss. "That woman makes me nervous," said ...friend, who did I mention is kind of tragic the way I am? Wouldn't it be better if I'd met a Mr. Blue Sky kind of person? But no. Death and destruction hover around every corner, in this case wearing a sari.
We left her in our dust as we traipsed this path, and I'd like to mention I had on silver flipflops with a sequin flower on them, which is the shoe of choice for many Mt. Everest climbers. So I was all set. "Oh, no, your SHOES," said ...friend. "Are you gonna be okay?"
He asked me that again 25 uphill minutes later, and believe it or not I really WAS okay.
Maybe 15 minutes after that, ...friend got out the handy map they had at the ready at the beginning of the trail. "Wasn't this supposed to me .4 miles?" he wondered, with his HIKING BOOTS. "How are your feet? Are you okay? I feel terrible that I dragged you out here in those."
But I was having fun. At this point we had seen three deer, and shot them all immediately, and OH! WE SAW A SNAKE! I mean, sort of. There was rustling in the leaves and GUESS WHAT ...FRIEND DID? GUESS! He got a STICK and POKED AROUND in the effing LEAVES and said, "Did you see it? I knew it was a black snake by the rustling sound it made."
Okay, Grizzly and your Sam Adams, am delighted you are so at one with nature, but could you NOT POKE THE SNAKES when I'm here? Possibly? Could you not?
Seventy-five minutes later, we were still on that trail. If ...friend had asked me about my feet one more time, he would have been wearing a sequin flower upside his head. Honest to god, my feet were FINE, but he was obsessed. Eventually we passed this huge guy, with the oldest most dilapidated Rottweiler you have ever seen. That Rottweiler looked at us like, "Whiskey Tango FOXTROT. Why I out heer?"
"Did you see that guy glare at me, the one who dug up his dead dog for the walk?" asked ...friend. He looked at me like, "Really, dude? You drag that poor woman out here in her silver flipflops?" Who was projecting, do you think? Because if I were that guy I'd be worried about how I was gonna get the dog out the woods when it inevitably keeled over like that mule Rhett commandeers in Gone With the Wind.
The sun was setting as we finally found the car again. I swear to you I am not making that up. THE SUN WAS SETTING. "You know that cranky Indian woman on the bench?" I asked. "When she entered this trail, she was 16. She was out there catching her breath, thinking about how she missed the whole prime of her life because she was on this endless trail."
Just as we got to the car, though, we saw one more deer. Oh, I love seeing deer. Especially when I get 'em right between the eyes.
In case you haven't gleaned this, I DON'T SEE HOW ANYONE COULD SHOOT A DEER.
Finally, we headed home, none the worse for wear despite the fact that ...friend was convinced I was going to have to go to Ready-Med to have my feet amputated. Actually I did find a little blood on one toe from where I must've hit a rock, but I was loathe to tell him.
Back in Greensboro, we got something to eat, and I ran into Anna, who I used to work with. She is the bomb. She attended my How to Shoot Pictures in Low Light seminar and told me she got a lot out of it.
Finally we went to this rooftop bar, where the world's most ludicrous and cannot-stop-watching-them bridal party was sitting directly behind us. The bride had lights in her hair, and I just need you to know I am so finding a way to put lights in my hair every day. I mean, the hair is noticeable enough, so I'm just gonna embrace it.
Okayyyyyy?
{snap.}
