I have to drive my car to the fix-my-car place, get it inspected, the oil changed, the taillight fixed and possibly have those eyelashes put on the headlights the way some people do, and because of all that, I gotta get up early tomorrow, which is my favorite thing. Man, do I love the morning. Give me that old-time religion and also the morning, so I can go on my run and eat kale after. My wonderful friend Kaye, and why does she even like me, is driving me to work after, even though it's her day off.
My grandmother once sent me a t-shirt that read, "Give me that old-time religion" and it featured a picture of Stonehenge. I wish I'd saved that.
As a result of this unfortunate occurrence--the getting up early, not my grandmother's hilarious atheism--I decided to blog tonight, and have me a glass of wine while I do it, which should result in me making a heap of sense, as opposed to the other times that this blog is linear and focused.
Remember when we last spoke and the weekend yawned before me? Whatever happened to THAT idea? So far this weekend, I've taken 24,800 steps (I'm in two, not one but TWO, Fitbit weekend challenges, which is where you compete with people you've never even met to see who can take the most steps in a weekend. You find yourself feeling murderous over people you will never know. DIE, YOU FUCKING 30,000-step heifer), bought a coffee table and a phone table, for all my coffee and phone needs, cried, reunited with a friend and kissed Tallulah's earses several times.
Oh, and I saw Ned.
Ned and I live five minutes apart, and you know what I never considered? Is that I was renting a house with Ned five minutes from my regularly scheduled house and that if we broke up we'd run into each other all the goddamn time. THAT I never considered. I never even considered we'd break up. We both thought that that move was a forever thing.
News flash. It wasn't.
[sips wine bitterly]
After I blogged at you Saturday, I got my feces together and headed to the vintage-y store where I bought my chair that has the broken caster and my cowboy chair and other cute things. That store is huge and fabulous, much like my penis.
Not only am I hoping to find a coffee table, I'm also looking for a red suede pump (When Harry Met Sally reference. Sorry. Wine.) and also for a 1950s-ish plant stand to put here in the back room. I saw one online that every time I look at it I have a teensy orgasm, but it costs.
So I was at the front of that store Saturday, because all the plant-y things are there, near the window, and I saw a cute man walk past so I looked up, and dagnabbit.
THERE WAS EFFING NED.
Naturally I did the mature thing and stalked him and photographed him and announced my Ned sighting on Facebook, but then I finally said hello.
Hello, said Ned.
And then we commenced shopping together. SHOPPING.
I'm sorry, Ned is pretty. I think Ned is the prettiest boy alive. Have I said dagnabbit yet? Why'd I have to have the insane hair on a Ned day? Who can take a Neddy day and suddenly make it all seem insane? Well it's you girl and you should know it.
He and I ended up going to another store that I love love love, and if you're local, it's called Agatha's or Agneta's or --ADELAIDE's. That's it. Adelaide's. It's on Spring Garden. Oh my god, everything there is adorable. Adorbs. It's so cute it's adorbs, and go ahead and punch me right in the large, fabulous cock. I deserve.
Anyway, I got this coffee table above, and Lily has chosen it. If Lily were God, this table would be the Jews. It is the chosen one. I love that she has decorative wings now. Yes, that's Ned in the background shut up.
I also got a phone table, and as I was leaving with it, this woman stopped me. "That was my great-aunt's phone table! I brought that here!" she told me. She said her great aunt was named Eunice Pitt, which is the best name ever born, and that she was an old maid, which is perfect for me. Iris has chosen this table. So. At least the gray fur will look good with the gray phone table.
In the meantime, Ned got this shelf/bar/bookstand thingamajig, and he had to go home for them to deliver it to him. So that went without incident. Until today. When he called.
"I miss you," Ned told me. "I actually ache for you. I still love you."
Son of a BITCH.
And you know what I did? I cried. I'm not much of a crier, actually, although of course I AM the town crier. Wait. It's nine o'clock. I have to let everyone know that all is well.
I told Ned all the things I want, which I actually didn't know I had at the ready like that. I didn't know I had this much clarity about things.
I want to get married. I want to be with one person forever, whom I, you know, like and who likes me and whom I trust. I want to be with someone I can talk to, work things out with. You'll always have conflict, but what matters is how you handle it. You know what we didn't? Is handle conflict. We both screamed and yelled and jumped up and down and broke things and it would have been charming only if we'd been Italian.
"I can't be with you, Ned," I told him, and when I hung up the phone, I knew it was true. It really is over with Ned, and I really do have to fucking move on. And he does too, which by the way will kill me when I see it or hear about it. NO ONE TELL ME. I don't wanna know.
God, that was fast.
Oh, look, it's a grapey miracle! MORE WINE IS HERE!
Anyway, I hung up the phone, crying like a little bitch. Eventually I checked to see if Jude Law had called or something. But it was even better. Well. It was on par, let's put it that way.
I have a friend. Some friends I have have said to me, "I don't want anything to do with your goddamn blog, June. Don't put me on it" and this is one of those friends. But oh, what good friends we were. He and I had a falling out awhile back and I was JUST THINKING OF HIM the other day, and today came an email from him.
"I miss you," he wrote. I am very missed. I'm probably better once I'm just an idea and not reality. "I never miss people, but I miss you all the time." Then he finished by telling me his dog died.
Sit down. I loved his dog.
I called immediately.
"Oh thank god," he said, picking up the phone.
It was so great. We talked for ages, catching each other up. He's in love, and I've never even heard him like this before. He's stupid in love, and it's so cool to hear. I told him about Tallulah, and he cried. He's edgy about dog death right now.
So I don't know, man. Life closes a Ned door and opens a friend's back door or something. You take the good you take the bad. You take them both and there you have the facts of life. The facts of life.
How many times have I said that, do you think? How many times can you punch me in my fabulous cock before even that isn't enough? Once is not enough.
Also, today I was on the phone with my mother, who seems to have rejoined Team Ned ("Can't he just marry you? Wouldn't that be great?"), and as we spoke, she told me places I could put my new phone table. I mean, she didn't say stick it up your ass, seeing as this is the woman who recently said, "Go to the bathroom or get off the pot." The POINT is, I moved that phone table from the back room to the living room to the dining room to the hallway, and Iris rode on it throughout, unflapped. She never jumped off.
Anyway, that was my weekend. Dag and also nabbit. ...Look at Iris's spready toes. I love her so bad.
Hope you were sitting down. Okay, I gotta go. Long Island Medium is on.