If you're a parent, lemme just ask you something hypothetically. Let's say you're, oh, to throw a scenario out there, at Target with your kid on a busy Saturday afternoon. Let's say your kid is crying loudly in the cart, and keeps screeching, "WANT TOYS! WANT TOYS! WANT TOYS! WANT TOYS WANT TOYS WANT TOYS!!!!"
How do you keep from, you know, screaming as loudly as possible, "SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU FUCKING FUCK OF A CHILD"?
Seriously, how do you not do that? I'd really like to know.
Still looking into fertility treatments! Wish me luck!
In the meantime, Edsel and I are busy adjusting to our new life. Edsel's got the Blu. BAHAHAHAH. Today I went to the pet store, and also Target, and I'll bet you had no idea I went to Target today, and anyway I got Eds a new collar that's more befitting his new position as alpha.
I replaced his fruity blue collar with a bowtie with a fruity no-nonsense brown with a bowtie collar. What's with PetSmart and Target only selling nylon collars? They wear out and get dirty. Leather's where it's at. Just ask Fonzie. I guess Fonzie liked Pinkie, not Leather, didn't he? Anyway, you can see the new manly collar has made a huge difference in his feelings about his new position. Edsel's, not Fonzie's.
I've gotten so many flowers these past few days that you'd think someone had died or--oh, wait. Also, everyone keeps asking me to go out and do things, and I can so see the conversations before the invitation is extended.
"Wow, June's had a rough go of it. I guess we should invite her to our [insert event here]."
"Oh, god, do we HAVE to?"
"Yeah, I think we do. Let's drink before she gets here."
One of the Alexes invited me to her roof to drink after work on Thursday. She's a stepchild. BAHAHAHAHA. She's a Stepford Wife. She's a Stairmaster. Okay, I'm done. I was a social climber and joined the party.
Here we are, up on the roof. I totally looked for James Taylor and he was nowhere to be found. I can just hear Alex asking. "Who's James Taylor?"
Oh, and I forgot. My neighbor Peg brought me a potted plant just to be nice, without even knowing she was giving me a sympathy plant. She visited yesterday and Lily bit her. Taking over where Tallulah left off with the abhorring Peg.
Also, Faithful Reader Happy brought me an azalea, which I am going to plant today. Yes, I DO need the grass cut. The lawn guy has the flu; he's coming Monday. He's the same guy who power-washed and is gonna paint my house. More on him in a minute, as he was part of today's dog rescue.
So, Thursday I went to Alex's roof, Friday Peg visited and got bitten, then Friday night my coworker Austin texted me. "We're having a couple over and we're ordering Mexican food. Why don't you join us?" His wife was probably already doing shots while he texted, just in case I said yes.
Austin and his wife just bought a house in my general neighborhood, a house that's had one owner till now. I would SO KEEP this wallpaper in the kitchen, but I feel like maybe they were not on my page. I would keep ALL the wallpaper in the house.
Right? Why would you replace this? His daughter, who is approximately four to 11 years old, told me, "I like glitter too, but not on my wallpaper." I mean, who raises a child to think this way? GLITTER SHOULD BE EVERYWHERE.
"That's just what our friends told us," Austin's wife told me, and she meant the friends who were also coming over to eat Mexican food. She knew I'd like them, as they are my people, and the husband, the husband--are you ready??--the husband IS AN ARTIST WHO COLLECTS PICTURES OF PEOPLE HE DOESN'T KNOW.
Dear June: Stop saying "right" like that.
Oh my god, it was so great to meet someone who has my disorder. He did a whole installation of pictures he calls sweetheart pictures, that he collects, that are of women who went to the studio and had their picture made for some sweetheart overseas or whatever. They have writing on them usually, like To Bob, Love Lois and so on.
We could have talked all night re this, and of course we talked about Norma and Vern, and see, just telling you about it again I get all excited and I start thinking about how much I FUCKING LOVE looking at pictures of people I don't know and how I have to get back into it again.
Everyone else there was so over us.
But here's another good part. There's a bunch of stuff in Austin's new attic, left over from the other owners, and part of why he had us over was to go through it to see if there was anything we wanted.
Was there anything we wanted. Pfft.
Oh my god, letters and photos and yearbooks and even a wedding dress.
I ended up taking a Holly Hobbie photo album of a bunch of schoolmates' class pictures. Oh my god, that was so fun.
A fine Arab Charger. Why was everything horses in the '70s? You couldn't swing a dead horse without coming across a horse trapper keeper, or a movie about a horse, or run calling Wildfire.
Incidentally, here's Austin's family's absurdly cute dog. I knew you'd want to see it. I know my audience. You need to get some strange every once in awhile, look at a new dog. Hey, it's biological. It's how we're wired.
This morning, Kayeee and Marty came over ("Do we HAVE to visit?" "Yeah, I think we do. Here's my emergency scotch."). After they visited, I screamed over to PetSmart and Target, and now we're full circle. But on the way back from the store, I was on my street and I saw a dog in a yard.
"Goddammit. Is that a loose dog?" I asked, and right then I knew. It was a black and gray splotchy dog, a Catahoula-looking dog, and naturally I pulled over and got out my car.
"Hi, baby doggie!" I said, and all dogs hate me as a result.
"WOO WOO WOO WOO WOO! grrrrrr," said Baby Doggie, who wanted no part of June's Dog Rescue and Kidnapping services. The grrrr scared me, but I couldn't just drive away, so to make a long story agonizingly longer, in the end an old man, the sea, a young girl who was a nurse and my neighbor who power-washed my house all gathered round and got that dog back into his goddamned yard, all the while with his owners nowhere to be seen.
Yours in brevity,