I am totally extra super giant depressed. I found out today that I did not get that job, the one I took a test for a few weeks back.
I SUCK.
This is the third editing test I've taken wherein I did not get the job. Have I turned stupid? Have I lost my abilities? Do I have a brain tumor? Should I take up another career, such as professional hair-wearer? I seem to do that pretty memorably.
I have no talent, skills, likable qualities or future. Am going to have to move back to Saginaw and live with Hulk. Hi, Hulk. Pay no attention to these pets.
Speaking of which, who do you suppose was delighted to be released from dog daycare? And in a fit of alpha, Edsel rode home in the front seat, instead of his regularly scheduled backseat riding. Why Talu did not kick his skinny arse is beyond me. But you know what else happened? While they were boarded up there at the dog orphanage, Edsel had his second birthday, on July 7th. Isn't that terrible? His mother abandons him on his birthday. You can see he's distraught over it.
Maybe later today Eds and I will go on a special walk, just the two of us, and I won't make him stop and talk to my old neighbor, Paul. He'll like that, Eds will. Paul will be annoyed.
At any rate, as for the rest of my weekend in Michigan, I had a fine time. I have no idea why there was an image of an apostrophe, here, but I figured it was some kind of message for me. "June suck's."
"June edit's horribly."
"Hey, June! ' !"
I wonder what ' means in that last sentence. Woodstock from Peanuts is yelling at me.
Speaking of apostrophes, I saw this in the elevator where I stayed the other night. I would like to be privy to the thought process that led this person to make the word its apostrophe. "Well, if I wrote 'at it's finest' that would mean "at it is finest. So it must be its'."
That person has a job. I do not.
When I wasn't mocking elevator signs, I was at Hulk's hanging out at his pool. I do not know why that poor man up there getting permanently injured made me giggle for 85 years, but I did also shoot Vs at Hulk's kid, Not Chloe, while she frolicked in the pool way more athletically than I ever did in all my days.
Not Chloe is kind of fearless about the going underwater without plugging her nose, which Hulk said he taught her when she was, like, two or something. I'll bet Not Chloe will grow up to be a low-maintenance woman.
I'll bet Not Chloe won't have to call attention to herself at every turn, either. I am already baffled by the fictional future Not Chloe.
Seeing as it was my house and all, I invited my long-time low-maintenance friend Gertrude over as well, and her daughter, who is the same age as The UnChloe.
Gertrude made me a CD of cover songs by different artists, like Fiona Apple singing John Lennon, which I listened to 97 times on the drive home yesterday.
I also got up with my old friend Mayor McCheese, whom I have known since the '80s. The rockin' '80s. That house he lives in? Is an 1800s-y house that he and his wife have been renovating since 1712. It's a cool house and I lived there briefly before I moved to Seattle.
Here is the Mayor's wife, AnnNanandAmy. When Mayor McCheese first started dating her, he introduced her at a (sit down) loud bar. I KNOW! Me? At a loud bar in the '80s? Anyway, I heard her name was "Ann," my friend Gertrude heard "Nan" and my ex-best-friend Esmeralda said, "No. Her name's Amy." So ever since then she's just AnnNanandAmy. I made the calligrapher write AnnNanandAmy on her invitation to my wedding, because I have a long and illustrious love affair with my own self.
Anyway you can't help but adore AnnNanandAmy. She is da bomb. She asked me what I wanted to drink, and I said, "Something caffeinated" and she offered Diet Pepsi and I politely said, "GOD, I HATE diet drinks."
I am a pleasure. No one say "high mantenance" or I'll kill you. Hulk called me high-maintenance, by the way, at HIS house because I asked him to mix cranberry juice with Sprite. Look, I KNEW he had BOTH. What's the big deal? I didn't ask for fresh guava juice imported from Columbia and served in a mango. God.
So here's poor AnnNanandAmy grinding coffee beans for me in the blender. Who's an annoying guest? DON"T SAY IT! DON'T.SAY.IT.
Those short people are their kids. They have three of them. They thought they were getting smoothies. June. Disappointing children since 201--oh, let's face it. I've been disappointing children since day one.
On my way out of Michigan I stopped off to see my old boyfriend Giovanni Leftwich. I have mentioned him before. I used to love the spit right out of him. But that was back in the '80s when I went to loud bars and misheard people's names.
Now we can be in the same vicinity and not scream at each other, or throw things, or jump up and down, or really create any drama at all, really. Which is kind of nice. We've known each other since 7th grade, and managed to go from 7th to 10th grades as friends before all hell broke loose for the rest of the '80s, and I guess we finally got back to 7th grade again.
Giovanni is marrried and has two kids; his son will be in 7th grade this year. "Wow, that's weird," I said, when his son showed up AS GIOVANNI'S 7th-GRADE DOPPELGANGER.
He also has a sweet daughter and a guinea pig named Squeaky. Guess who lived up to his name when his feets were dangling like this?
I also met Giovanni's gorgeous wife, who apparently has been able to be in the same room and not scream or yell and jump up and down at Giovanni for 15 years, and I'd like to know how this is manageable. ...Do you think it was just me?
DON'T SAY IT.
That's about all I have to tell you, except that there is this glass factory in West Virginia that every time Marvin and I would drive to Michigan or back, I'd see the signs for it and say, "I'd like to look around in there one day." The last time we ever traveled to Michigan as a couple, which was for my Uncle Jim's funeral--and curiously the very day ...friend was moving to Greensboro--I said, "Oh, there's that glass store exit" and Marvin said something snarky about it, something like, "Are you OBSESSED with that glass place?"
I said nothing till we got to the exit, and then I said, "Don't worry about going to the glass place, ASSHOLE."
And then? Somehow our marriage didn't end up working out.
DON'T SAY IT!
Comments
Casual depression at its' finest
I am totally extra super giant depressed. I found out today that I did not get that job, the one I took a test for a few weeks back.
I SUCK.
This is the third editing test I've taken wherein I did not get the job. Have I turned stupid? Have I lost my abilities? Do I have a brain tumor? Should I take up another career, such as professional hair-wearer? I seem to do that pretty memorably.
I have no talent, skills, likable qualities or future. Am going to have to move back to Saginaw and live with Hulk. Hi, Hulk. Pay no attention to these pets.
Speaking of which, who do you suppose was delighted to be released from dog daycare? And in a fit of alpha, Edsel rode home in the front seat, instead of his regularly scheduled backseat riding. Why Talu did not kick his skinny arse is beyond me. But you know what else happened? While they were boarded up there at the dog orphanage, Edsel had his second birthday, on July 7th. Isn't that terrible? His mother abandons him on his birthday. You can see he's distraught over it.
Maybe later today Eds and I will go on a special walk, just the two of us, and I won't make him stop and talk to my old neighbor, Paul. He'll like that, Eds will. Paul will be annoyed.
At any rate, as for the rest of my weekend in Michigan, I had a fine time. I have no idea why there was an image of an apostrophe, here, but I figured it was some kind of message for me. "June suck's."
"June edit's horribly."
"Hey, June! ' !"
I wonder what ' means in that last sentence. Woodstock from Peanuts is yelling at me.
Speaking of apostrophes, I saw this in the elevator where I stayed the other night. I would like to be privy to the thought process that led this person to make the word its apostrophe. "Well, if I wrote 'at it's finest' that would mean "at it is finest. So it must be its'."
That person has a job. I do not.
When I wasn't mocking elevator signs, I was at Hulk's hanging out at his pool. I do not know why that poor man up there getting permanently injured made me giggle for 85 years, but I did also shoot Vs at Hulk's kid, Not Chloe, while she frolicked in the pool way more athletically than I ever did in all my days.
Not Chloe is kind of fearless about the going underwater without plugging her nose, which Hulk said he taught her when she was, like, two or something. I'll bet Not Chloe will grow up to be a low-maintenance woman.
I'll bet Not Chloe won't have to call attention to herself at every turn, either. I am already baffled by the fictional future Not Chloe.
Seeing as it was my house and all, I invited my long-time low-maintenance friend Gertrude over as well, and her daughter, who is the same age as The UnChloe.
Gertrude made me a CD of cover songs by different artists, like Fiona Apple singing John Lennon, which I listened to 97 times on the drive home yesterday.
I also got up with my old friend Mayor McCheese, whom I have known since the '80s. The rockin' '80s. That house he lives in? Is an 1800s-y house that he and his wife have been renovating since 1712. It's a cool house and I lived there briefly before I moved to Seattle.
Here is the Mayor's wife, AnnNanandAmy. When Mayor McCheese first started dating her, he introduced her at a (sit down) loud bar. I KNOW! Me? At a loud bar in the '80s? Anyway, I heard her name was "Ann," my friend Gertrude heard "Nan" and my ex-best-friend Esmeralda said, "No. Her name's Amy." So ever since then she's just AnnNanandAmy. I made the calligrapher write AnnNanandAmy on her invitation to my wedding, because I have a long and illustrious love affair with my own self.
Anyway you can't help but adore AnnNanandAmy. She is da bomb. She asked me what I wanted to drink, and I said, "Something caffeinated" and she offered Diet Pepsi and I politely said, "GOD, I HATE diet drinks."
I am a pleasure. No one say "high mantenance" or I'll kill you. Hulk called me high-maintenance, by the way, at HIS house because I asked him to mix cranberry juice with Sprite. Look, I KNEW he had BOTH. What's the big deal? I didn't ask for fresh guava juice imported from Columbia and served in a mango. God.
So here's poor AnnNanandAmy grinding coffee beans for me in the blender. Who's an annoying guest? DON"T SAY IT! DON'T.SAY.IT.
Those short people are their kids. They have three of them. They thought they were getting smoothies. June. Disappointing children since 201--oh, let's face it. I've been disappointing children since day one.
On my way out of Michigan I stopped off to see my old boyfriend Giovanni Leftwich. I have mentioned him before. I used to love the spit right out of him. But that was back in the '80s when I went to loud bars and misheard people's names.
Now we can be in the same vicinity and not scream at each other, or throw things, or jump up and down, or really create any drama at all, really. Which is kind of nice. We've known each other since 7th grade, and managed to go from 7th to 10th grades as friends before all hell broke loose for the rest of the '80s, and I guess we finally got back to 7th grade again.
Giovanni is marrried and has two kids; his son will be in 7th grade this year. "Wow, that's weird," I said, when his son showed up AS GIOVANNI'S 7th-GRADE DOPPELGANGER.
He also has a sweet daughter and a guinea pig named Squeaky. Guess who lived up to his name when his feets were dangling like this?
I also met Giovanni's gorgeous wife, who apparently has been able to be in the same room and not scream or yell and jump up and down at Giovanni for 15 years, and I'd like to know how this is manageable. ...Do you think it was just me?
DON'T SAY IT.
That's about all I have to tell you, except that there is this glass factory in West Virginia that every time Marvin and I would drive to Michigan or back, I'd see the signs for it and say, "I'd like to look around in there one day." The last time we ever traveled to Michigan as a couple, which was for my Uncle Jim's funeral--and curiously the very day ...friend was moving to Greensboro--I said, "Oh, there's that glass store exit" and Marvin said something snarky about it, something like, "Are you OBSESSED with that glass place?"
I said nothing till we got to the exit, and then I said, "Don't worry about going to the glass place, ASSHOLE."
And then? Somehow our marriage didn't end up working out.
