I was driving home from Ned's when I saw one of those horrid stick-figure families on the back of a car. I cannot tell you how I abhor those narcissistic things, says the woman who blogs about herself every day. This particular stick figure family was a woman with "I'm a teacher!" written under it ("I'm a narcissist!") and then two dogs. Okay, I can be down with dogs being your family, as you know.
When I got behind her at a red light, I saw just faintly a man stick figure had been ripped off. Oooo. Been there, sister.
But speaking of narcissism, particularly mine, I had my interview yesterday, and I now wish to be interviewed each and every day. Oh, that was fun. I don't want to ruin the writer's article by telling you what we talked about, although what was interesting was he said meeting me was different from meeting June. In other words, our personalities differ.
The magazine article will be out in a few months. And they didn't take my picture, after all that. He said they'd come over later, maybe even when I'm in our new house. He asked when I blogged, and I said in the a.m., generally, before work, and he said maybe they'd take a picture of me doing that, in my natural element.
Unretouched picture of me right now, in my element, and I cannot wait to see all this prettiness in a fancy magazine. I can just see the headline now: The repugnant blogger who needs Botox AGAIN. The t-shirt-headed blogger. Hey, it's a Curly Girl thing. Shut up.
Won't it be exciting when I move to a whole new room and you don't have to look at this same background anymore? And I will not be bringing the orange crate images. Marvin, come get 'em if you want 'em.
After the fun, fun, oh-so-fun interview (about two years ago, the interviewer saw me at the local Christmas tree lighting ceremony downtown, and he was about to reach over and tell me then that he wanted to interview me, and apparently I gave him a bitchy look. The Blows-Her-Chances-For-Fame-Because-She's-a-Dick Blogger), I called Ned, who was two doors down from said interview. "I wish to be interviewed every day!" I told him. "I was worried about this," he said.
Ned and I went to dinner, and I had him take my photo, since I'd gone to all the trouble of putting on my red shirt and everything.
Maybe I just need to grow it longer. The hair, not the relationship. Remember when I scraped together $300 and had it chemically straightened and I hated it? Calm hair is not me. You know what I really super-duper need? A nose job. THAT would make all the difference. My nose is horrific.
I guess I'll go to work now, but remind me to tell you about the guy at work who is funny without really intentionally being funny. He lumbers around being generally crabby, and saying outlandish things, and finally one of us made a Twitter page with his ridiculous quotes. Maybe it's only funny if you know him. But that page kills all of us at work, who know him. I DO know that he's annoyed about the quote where he says he likes the IDEA of Chinese food, because what he really said was he likes the idea of fruit. I know he's right about that, because I heard him say he likes the idea of fruit.
The idea of fruit. Good gravy.
I guess you don't have to remind me to tell you about the guy at work, because I just did.
Okay, Famous June is out of here. I should totally make cookies.