Do you realize that Lily was gone exactly twice as long as my longest-disappearing-but-came-back cat, Confetti, who left for 26 days in 1987? Lily was gone for 52 days. FIFTY-TWO DAYS.
The vet said she had one live flea on her, so dousing her with meds the second she got indoors was one of my more brilliant plans. She has a little upper respiratory thing, but the vet said that's to be expected and she doesn't think meds are necessary. I can call them meds because I am a doctor. A British doctor. I am Faithful Reader Nithya. Word to Nithya!
Does Nithya still read this stupid blog? People come and go so quickly here. If you've read this blog for more than three years, leave a comment today saying you're still here. What about Peter? He used to comment all the time. Do I KILL all these people or something? I'm the Angela Lansbury of bloggers.
I know we've lost Siren, not that she's dead, although she'd love it if we all said she was dead. Oh, how I miss her. Got attached.
I have no idea how I got off on this old-readers tangent. It's just that you all can check in years later and be all, Oh looky there. June's still around. But if YOU guys go I never find out another thing about you. Of course, if you say things like "looky" I don't want to find out anything about you, anyway.
Hang on. I gotta wipe off my Nair for Faces.
...Okay, I'm back. I recently told Ned my "dark like man" story and he got way too big of a kick out of it. You know that story. I was in my early 30s and I went to get my eyebrows waxed. "You want me to wax mustache too?" that little jerk of a waxer asked me. "Oh, no, I--thank you, I--I don't HAVE a mustache," I said.
"Ohhhh," she said solemnly, "You dark like man."
I have never handed seven dollars over to a person more quickly. All my friends insisted she was scamming me for that big payoff, because I emailed EVERYONE to say "Why did none of you TELL me I'm Clark Gable," but now I faithfully Nair and wax every month, because dark like man.
Speaking of Ned, he and I schlepped over to house number 49484828 yesterday and god, was it beautiful. A gay couple bought and renovated a 1928 bungalow, so need I say more. "I wish YOU were gay," I told Ned as we strolled on gorgeous hardwoods and admired tasteful colors and hardware and built-in everything.
The drawbacks? No fence, but he said we can put one in, which...
And one bathroom. But oh my GOD what a beautiful bathroom. You should see the goddamn kitchen. There was nothing in that house that was NOT beautiful. And the rooms were HUGE. But fence. FENCE.
I hope you're all jousting at each other now.
Afterward, Ned said, "Have you eaten? Because I'm starving," and let me just tell you what. If it's ever 8:00 my time and you're wondering what I'm up to--and if so, hey, No-Life. But if you are, I assure you there's an 80% chance Ned is saying that very thing. WHAT DOES HE DO between 5:00 and 8:00? Does he just wander from room to room, wondering what the common folk are up to during those hours? And then he gets exasperated with me because imagine that, I've eaten by 8:00. Is he a New Yorker?
So, because I'd had popcorn for dinner and could totally go for a bang-bang, we got something to eat. There's this restaurant near me that I've always said I hated, mostly because the name annoys me and because once I didn't like what I ordered. But then I've been there since, with coworkers, and it wasn't bad.
"Why don't we go to Whoo-De-Hooo-Hooo Xerophthalmia?" I asked Ned, and you can see how that name might bug.
"But you HATE it there," he said.
"I might not," I offered.
"But every time I say I want to try it there, you say, 'Oh my god I HATE that place.'" You should hear Ned's impression of me complaining about something. I sound like Linda Blair.
The point is, we went to Whoo-De-Hooo-Hooo Xerophthalmia and It.Was.Delicious. And cheap! All this time we've been snubbing the place right near me and we were missing all that reasonable deliciousness. I even have leftovers that I am dearly tempted to eat now but will try to be a grownup and wait till lunchtime like normal people.
Oh, and speaking of that, the other night it was 8:00 and Ned was hungry, so we went to this place we ALWAYS go, and I only ate half my sandwich. I wrapped the other half in my napkin and put it in my purse. But then? I got home and kind of forgot I'd done that? And when I got back into the room, Tallulah had my purse straps over her neck like she was eating out of a feed bag. She even ate the napkin.
Tallulah is a dick.
And my dogs are trained solidly.
Okay, I have to go. Lily is mostly sleeping constantly, still, but if she were awake I'm sure she'd say everyone stop looking at her but also could she please get in your lap. When you pet her, she feels like one of those bony old cats. That vet had catorexia. No way she's a good weight right now.
Says the person who ate dinner twice last night.
Obviouslee, Lilee beautiful. Lilee always been beautifull. Cannot help. And mom such good cook. Ebery day she make brown kibul to put in Lilee dish, and it devine. And maybe Lilee get...too fluffee. Sometime Lilee remind self of Elizabeth Taylor. In Liz flufflier yeers.
So Lilee sine up for a, you know, health camp. Where she can chase mices and butterfliees and do catesthenics and so on. And maybe while she at...health camp, she get brest lift. You have six boob you be gone long time too.
And, yes, maybe Lilee forget to leeve note. No reason for mom to get histerical. With those dramatic posters, mom. Gawd. Plus, Lilee look totleee fat in picture you use. Oh, pleese find mom fat feeeline! Mom sad without her Mama Cass cat. Humileeate.
But not anymore. Lilee do yoga and purrlates and mom wonder if anything less funny than a purr pun by a cat. Lilee cut out all glooten and chocolate mouse. Once she thin and lifted and separated, she hed back home. And maybe she get...loss a little. Maybe she make wrong turn. But eventulee she get home.
Lilee wate in bush next to front porch. Mom suppose to be at work 8:30 and mom neber leeve house till 8:30. How mom hold down job Lilee never no. So at 8:30, heer come mom. She got her cawfee and her purse and she get to first step and stop right there.
"Lily?" she ask out lowd, even tho she can't see Lilee. It like she just no Lilee there. Lilee still hide in bush, but mom look down there anyway. But it been long time since Lilee see mom, plus what mom do to hair? So Lilee maybe panik a little and run low thru bush and into driveway. She run low with her skwat Lilee legs.
Mom put down purse and cawfee. Thought nothing could make mom put down cawfee. She sit right in driveway like loonatic. "Lily!" she whisper, like Lily crazy. "Lily, come heer!" Mom look weepy. Gawd. So Lilee come over and mom SWOOP HER UP AND RUN INSIDE LIKE SHE STEELING LILY. Sometime mom a drama KWEEN.
Mom put Lilee right in front of food dish. Just get back from fat--health club, mom. Just reech goal weight. Not--oh, man. crunch crunch crunch crunch...
Lilee going to be tub any second.
Next thing you no, Unkkle Ned be over, looking weepy too. And Edsel stick snowt in Lilee and whine and wag tail and mom notiss that Lilee happy to see Edsel, too. I mean, he my own brother, what she expect? When mom at work, Eds and Lilee watch Lifetime Television for Wimmins, and sometime Eds make meeen peach dackery.
What Lilee want to no is, what up Eyeriss butt? She hiss and she growl and she give Lilee eveil look with her one eye. It like she jellis that Lilee finally skinnyer than her. Eyeriss totall bitch.
You know, before I got back from vacation (a reader asked me to never say "vacay," so I will not), I made a vow I was not going to fill up my week with something to do every damn night, and yet it's happened again. Yesterday Ned and I spent our lunch hour looking at yet another house (nope) (too close to a really, REALLY busy street), after work I had my student, then tonight we look at another house. Wait. Lemme get you a picture.
I wonder how much I could do with the area of my brain that managed to memorize all the top 40 AM radio songs from 1975 to 1980. The piano player looks like everyone my mother dated before she met my stepfather, who marched in looking like a normal person, and I thought, "THIS one will never last." I really did.
OH MY GOD, this is how my life gets out of control. I have no focus. I have a friend whose family is from...somewhere. Somewhere south of here. Colombia? Whenever I can't remember I go with Colombia. The point is, her gramma used to tell her, "You must fukkus, Cat. You have no fukkus." My friend's name is Cat, which is super cool and I wish I was from possibly Colombia so my name would be Cat. It's probably some long pretty name like Cataralainalarininla and she goes with Cat. I've never asked.
FUKKUS! So, we have that on Tuesday, then on Wednesday we have a little bungalow to look at, and then my friend Charlie asked if I'd visit so I will this week and boom it's the weekend. What I wouldn't give for a nice week where I just get to come home after work and do nothing. I blame Ned.
So ANYWAY. I was gonna finish up about my trip so here we go.
I took Mr. Sparkling Personality, here (it's like once the camera is on him, he turns dour) (you'd think the camera was on him every day or something, to entertain thousands of people he doesn't know), to my college town to show him just everything, and what's sad is how much of that involved bars. "And here's where my friend barfed in the back." "This bar is the one where they'd call me at home if I didn't show up."
It's true, there was a bar like that, and we decided to go to that at the end of the day, the big piece of resistance. I have to stop saying that like it's funny. I'm turning into someone's grandpa. The point is, we ate and shopped and walked all over yonder on campus and went to the museum where I worked for years and finally, FINALLY, we went to that bar. We walked in the front, walked straight through to the back door, and left.
"Oh my GOD, was it always so LOUD in there?" Ned asked, horrified.
"No! No, I....wow. Maybe it was. Wow."
You can't go home again.
So my hair and I took Ned to the Peanut Barrel, which used to let you throw shells on the ground and which now in our clean, politically correct world we can no longer do. I like how peanut throwing has become political. We sat next to four computer geeks, who talked about physics and languages and it was like sitting next to the cast of Theory of Relativity of whatever that show is that I've seen like twice with that guy named Sheldon.
The point is, I would like to listen to MY deep talks that I had at the Peanut Barrel in 1985 and see what pith I came up with.
Eventually we returned to my home town, and on one of the days I took Ned to this old barn place, where they serve only local food, and the menu is quite limited to just what they have that day. It was one of those walk up and look at the board and order right there situations, which Ned is not good with, but he did it.
Sports Illustrated told everyone to send in a photo of them doing something athletic, (I could not pick just one), and they made a big picture of everyone's small picture. Hulk found exactly where his tiny picture is and showed us. He's below the U in Illustrated or something. Am certain he will write in and correct me angrily.
The good news is, he and Ned got to talk about....sports.
"Hey, Ned, sporty sport sports sport sporting!"
"Yeah, ha ha! SPORTS Sporty sport ball sport!"
"Ha ha ha! Yeah. And sport..."
Oh my god I was in a COMA.
At the end of the trip, we returned to our hotel in West Virginia that we always stay at, and it just happened to be homecoming weekend. So while we ate outside, we saw a whole fireworks show. It was an excellent way to end our vacay. Aaaaand now I've lost a reader.
I was tempted to title this "I need a vaCAtion from my vaCAtion!" but I was afraid there'd be that one person out there who didn't know how I abhor that sentence, and they'd be all, "Wow, June is such an asshole."
Anyway, I'm back, and it's Sunday evening, and the pets and I are reunited like Bitches and Herb. Eds is completely exhausted from day care (see him back there, saying, "Fuk dis. Eds tire"?) Iris immediately ran outside the minute I opened the back door. Dose mice not gonna eet demselfs.
In a little while, Ned is gonna call me to have dinner, because it's been so long since we've seen each other. We managed to get along just fine despite spending 256 hours in the car, and didn't even have any fights or anything. Even when he'd get more ice to crunch.
I thought I'd show you some of our vacation shots, because nothing's more interesting than looking at someone's photos. I wish we could all gather around my phone, because that's even more fun, when someone makes you do that. "Come over here and scrinch behind me while I show you things you're completely over after photo one!"
In fact, I have never been to the Rainbow Room, but I like how that's my restaurant pinnacle. Am sophisticated.
When I was a kid, I was a finicky eater, and what ever happened to THAT slip-of-a-thing version of me? The point is, whenever they took me to the Roost I ate like a linebacker. They serve turkey and turkey, and they serve it in about 30 seconds. I am not even kidding. Oh, I love it there so bad, I do.
Despite the fact that your choices are turkey with dark meat, turkey with light meat, a turkey sandwich or that day's soup (the day we were there, the soup of the day was...turkey! Who knew?), Ned still had to look at the menu and ask the waitress to come back. He ended up going with the turkey.
After we had our jive turkey--and really, why don't I take this act on the road--we headed to northern Michigan where my cousin Katie the lesbian, who is outdoorsy, lives with her husband Jason, who is outdoorsy.
Oh, look, there's Jason outdoors. You never see THAT. Jason makes really beautiful furniture for a living, and I plan to write a whole post about it because, man. But look at the link I just put in here, and you will feel not unlike Carrie Bradshaw the first time she entered Aidan's store.
"You know, there's a whole part of Sex and the City that features a furniture maker..." I began, and everyone studiously ignored me. At this point, Ned could recite the whole series word for word and he's barely seen one episode. Honestly, I'm worse than Susan Sharon.
The point of my story is that it was cold up there. I mean cold. Rocky was there punching meat. Penguins were crying ice cube tears. We're talking chilly. Katie told us to bring layers, but I thought she meant maybe bring a loose cotton sweater, when what she really meant was mukluks. I actually don't really know what mukluks are but I think they have something to do with muks winning the lottery.
Here's everyone putting on WINTER COATS to have a bonfire, and I know this is a terrible picture but Ned put the kibosh on the other one I took. "Don't put in that picture of me. I look like a monkey."
"You know, there's an episode of Sex and the City where someone looks like a monkey."
I meant to put in a photo of the buffalo burgers they made us, but happy Tallulah is here again, instead. Lu would have been pleased to partake of our buffalo burgers, but she was in prison all week, at daycare. I watched her on the webcam, trying to play with a fox terrier who ignored her, and it broke my heart in a million pieces. PLAY WITH MY DOG, YOU FOXY POINTY-NOSED BITCH.
Katie and Outdoorsy Jason just moved back to Michigan, from Alaska. They wanted to go to toasty northern Michigan. They sold everything they had before coming back, so although they've bought this adorable house:
They have little furniture. Which is how Ned and I ended up spending two nights in that camper you see up yonder. Believe it or not it was pretty comfy. Ned woke me up both nights to come out and look at shooting stars, and for someone who looks at shooting stars, he does not know more.
I believe both times that he shook me awake at 3 a.m., my wish for him involved fucking and youing. I did, however, stand in the frigid yard and look at stars BEFORE I fell asleep, and they were lovely. Ned asked me to point out where the North Star is, and everyone's a comedian. I knew the Big Dipper or the Big Bopper or whatever pointed at the North Star, but YOU get out your punch ladle and see if everyone agrees where it's pointing.
You will be stunned to hear that Katie and Jason suggested we go for a hike, outdoors, so we did, and then we went to Lake Michigan, because Ned is obsessed with bodies of water. "Which Great Lake is closest to your home town?" he asked me, like that's just something everyone knows. You wanna know what religion Charlotte York is, I got your answer. You wanna know what song reminds Carrie Bradshaw of driving around as a teenager, I can tell you that. The Great Lakes. Pfft.
Look how everyone had to pretend to like me while we were at Lake Michigan. Also, please behold my "hiking clothes," which involved my mom's yoga pants, because outdoorsy? If you were going to describe me in one word...
I see I've droned on for a coon's age and I only covered two days of our holiday. Am clearly British with my "holiday." The point is, I have 9239492393 other photos to go over, and this will be one of those posts where I write write write and upload upload upload and juggle plates while playing Flight of the Bumblebee on my one-man band and? Nothing. No comments for an hour and a half. Crickets.
Cricket, because am clearly British.
So I will tell you more tomorrow, and congratulations.
Love, Susan Sharon (I cannot WAIT for another SATC person to know who Susan Sharon is.) (CANNOT WAIT!!!)
We have left the countryside. Back to my bustling home town. Ned has gained 7 pounds. I eat this much every day, so.