For some reason that I'm certain had a lot to do with work, my boss and I got into a discussion about the song Every Rose Has Its Thorn. That's not entirely accurate. I was complaining about something that is mostly good, and being me, I have to concentrate on the one bad part.
"Every rose has its thorn," my boss said. On Mondays and Wednesdays he leads the Professional Philosophers club.
"Yeah," I agreed, because who can disagree with that wisdom?
"Every day has its dawn," he continued, obviously in love with his analogy.
So, he's my boss. I waited a long time, but I couldn't stand it. You know how I am.
"I think it's...every night has its dawn," I said.
"No, it isn't."
We hired a new copy editor to replace The Other Copy Editor. Let's call him Alex. "That makes no sense," Alex said, sucking up to his new boss. "Every night DOESN'T have its dawn. If it's dawn, it's already day."
"Look, I never said Brett Michaels was a Rhodes Scholar," I said, "but I am betting you FIVE HUNDRED MILLION DOLLARS it's 'night.'"
I once dated someone who, when he wanted to make fun of your intelligence, would call you a brain scientist. "Well, you're a real brain scientist, aren't you?" I always found that ironic.
Anyway, being a brain scientist, I Googled the lyrics.
Every rose has its thorn
Just like every night has its dawn
Just like every cowboy sings his sad, sad song
Every rose has its thorn
Yeah, it does
The best part of that song is the "yeah, it does" at the end, there.
I told this story to Ned, who came over for dinner last night, because you are sick of hearing Chef Tales From June. I made spaghetti. And a salad. I was exhausted.
"I used to think the song Venus was 'I'm your fetus, I'm the fire of your desire,'" he told me. "I didn't know what it meant, but I thought it was pretty racy for a fetus."
Sometimes there're things you needn't know about your significant other. Speaking of which, we stupidly took this enneagram test and then we got ahold of a book that tells you what you're like as a couple based on your enneagram results.
I was a 4 (The Individualist) and Ned was a 7 (The Enthusiast). Basically we each think the other one is an asshole. I like to dwell in melancholy (what's wrong with that?) and he likes to avoid all pain at all times, so if I'm ever melancholy, his reaction is, "Let's go do 800 things! We shouldn't have any melancholy! Let's avoid that!" and that makes me more melancholy, baby.
Also, if you read about the 4, I sound like a total dick. I sound like Phyllis from the Mary Tyler Moore Show.
Yeah, it does. I know that made no sense but I just wanted to say it again.
I have to go dry my hair, as per usual, and what I like about summer in the South is how rapidly anything gets dry. I could have hair made of rocks and it still wouldn't dry.
Anyway, before I go, I wanted to tell you that next week old Enthusiast Ned and I are going to the beach where I plan to look out over the water melancholically. One of the Alexes from work is going to dogsit. And to a much, much lesser extent, catsit. I feel like Iris could fend for herself for the rest of time.
Yeah, it does. Let's all say that today when it makes no real sense. What say you?
So, Alex, the Bitchy Resting Face Alex who was cockblocking my birthday picture, came over last night to meet the dogs. I wondered how long it would take her, after she met them, to come up with some pressing reason she couldn't watch them. However, she loves dogs and wants one of her own as soon as she's not living in an apartment with a roommate, and I tell you what. I think I already have a dog for her.
She walked in and Tallulah did the thing where she's pretty much a cat. Lu goeeng to stand over here and bark at you, and puff her Lu lips, and finelee she let you pet her. Wonce. Won pet onleee then go fuk self.
She's what you might call an aloof dog. I've always liked that about her. I wonder what her enneagram number would be?
In the meantime, Edsel needed a compact, because man. Was the lipstick ever out. Naturally I pointed this out to Alex, who was mortified because she is a normal person. I'm just sort of excited that Edsel likes a girl, for a change, because maybe that means I won't have to listen to quite so much Barbra Streisand anymore.
Yeah it does.
Every night has its June.