We just got a new toaster and butter dish, and I have a collection of vintage slips. I was wearing my coral slip--in which I look fetching if you ask me--Sunday morning when I went out to get the paper and got a brilliant idea. I ran in and grabbed the butter dish and held our cold stupid butter up toward the sun while I perused the front of the New York Times.
"What are you DOING?" asked Ned, whose life has become a series of events that make him feel like Ricky Ricardo. "I come down the stairs and all I see is you in a slip, on our front porch, holding up a dish of butter."
"Well, nothing's worse than hard butter," I said. I mean, you feel me, right? Nothing IS worse. Probably when I go to hell it'll be all hard butter and passwords that don't work.
When I wasn't showing our neighbors my slip and our butter, I was eating other things. On Saturday night, one of the Alexes invited me over to eat her Blue Apron, which wasn't as kinky as it sounds. She orders this food delivered to her, and it contains all the ingredients you need for three different meals. Here is the one we cooked, and yes, "we." I helped. She didn't know the trick about pressing the knife on the garlic clove to get the paper off. Behold my kitchen wisdom.
Everything was delicious, I am not even kidding you, and because Alex had 14 brothers growing up, she finished her food in 11 seconds and had to wait for old Only Child Luxury, here, to take forever to eat.
What really matters is I wore my sparkly shoes. This whole post is turning into what I ate, and what I wore.
After, we watched two episodes of Upstairs Downstairs and ate cookies. Peanut butter chocolate.
The next day, I dragged happy Ned to the arboretum, and by "dragged," I said, "You wanna go walking somewhere? It's so nice out" and he said, "How about the arboretum" so there you go. And you can see how happy he is about it. But when we got there and saw they had a butterfly garden, I died.
June's post from hell. This damn hard butter.
A few days ago, I went on Facebook and asked how many times a Good Girlfriend would go see baseball in a summer, because I've been twice and may or may not be getting pressure to GO FUCKING AGAIN. Hulk said, "Once for every time you've made him go to a butterfly garden." I quite haughtily told Hulk I have NEVER dragged Ned to a butterfly garden and two days later there we were.
"Oh my god! You have to pose in front of the sign so I can show Hulk!" I said. As we approached the sign, which must have been made by butterflies because it was, like, gray on white and would NOT show up on film, we passed a family, and Dear People at Public Parks. You do not OWN the park. I realize you want to all dress up in white shirts and take a family portrait, or lie on a blanket and dry hump, and more power to ya. But that doesn't mean I'm not gonna walk right past you because IT'S MY PARK AS MUCH AS IT IS YOURS GET OVER YOURSELF.
I realize that "made by butterflies" joke didn't even make sense.
So we minced past this family all in white, posed stiffly before a passel of flowers. The dad kept trying to get the kids' attention. "Heyyyy. Heyyyy. Heyyyy," he said, with all the enthusiasm of, say, Hulk at a butterfly garden.
"Hurry up and take the picture," said Ned. "I don't know how long I can stand to listen to the Jewish Fat Albert," he said, which struck me as hilarious and I did the thing where I laugh so hard that I bend over, and gasp, and snort, and the whole park stops to look at me. I'm probably that family's Christmas card this year.
GodDAMMIT, it's late all of a sudden and I have to go to work, which means you don't get to hear about the quesadillas I ate or the Thai food, and that is a travesty.
I gotta scream outta here, but here's my latest Purple Clover and please give me ideas for what to write about, as I have another deadline today for next week's column and am Ren and Stumpy. And don't say something stupid like, "Write about the time you made up the word sparklefraffle. Write about Carin." I have to come up with UNIVERSAL topics, not inside jokes about us. And right then, you knew.
Okay talk at you.