Bye Bye, Pie!

A crucial Pieces of Wisdom

Let's face it. I am not happy with my coffee situation. I mean, first of all, I have to have half-decaf, which is insulting enough. But then awhile back my coffeemaker broke, so my mother gave me hers, but then THAT broke, and is it really that bad of an idea to throw your coffeemaker against the fireplace like you're doing a Russian toast every morning?

So then I got a percolator, because I love the sound it makes, but coffee stayed fresh in there for, like, 12 seconds.

Now I have a French press, because my mother told me to, but she also told me I could not get any play in seventh grade because boys were intimidated by my beauty.

The problem with the French press is coffee gets cold in eight seconds. Plus, the Russian toast with that glass thing is precarious at best.

So what say you? What coffeemaker do you use and why do you like it?

Do tell.

Confidential to my fellow deep Real Housewives watchers: I don't know how this discussion fits with being a wife and a mother. You're gonna have to think long and hard about getting a coach, a trainer coach.

Okay, SERIOUSLY no time today

Went to the BookUp again last night. May or may not have gone with ...friend. May or may not have stayed out too late. May or may not have LOOMING DEADLINE.

This may or may not be my pal Jo at said BookUp. Who needs to stop saying "may or may not" about everything? May it or may it not be me?

So I will go. But someone in the coments yesterday came up with an interesting Pieces of Wisdom question and I am SORRY, dude, that I do not have time to go CULL the comments and see who said it. I may or may not have time.

Do you have any superstitions about money? For example, I never put my purse on the floor if I can help it because I heard you will never have money in your purse if you do that. And actually I never have money in my purse because I use my ATM card for everything. But when I DO have cash, I always face it in my wallet in the same direction, in number order. Suze Orman said to do that so I listened. I may or may not be relatively not flush. Still.

So what are yours? Do tell.

Pieces of Wisdom: You got your mind on your money and your money on your mind.

I wonder how many people out there desperately wish I would refer to song lyrics from this decade, just once.

I will. When I figure out I like some songs in this decade, next decade.

Anyway, don't be fooled by the rocks that we got, we're still bloggers from the block. Yesterday I asked all y'all all a riveting Pieces of Wisdom question, What is the best money you've ever spent?

And many of you answered. How many comments did I get yesterday? Wait, now I gotta go look at my blog and see. They come to me as email so I never know. One hundred twenty-five. One hundred twenty-five of you told me, minus me chiming in on my own comments like a chilly fool. So one hundred twenty-five of you, ish, minus those commenters who come back 3994949 times a day to say other stuff.

Okay, 14 of you chimed in with answers. Overwhelmingly, you said the best money you ever spent was on family vacations.

June. On a family vacation at age 6. With her "It's a Small World" pin from Avon. I think we were in Toronto. Aaaaand the correction email from one of my parents in 3...2...1.

I believe it was Francis, my now-dead cat, who chewed this photo. He loved to chew anything with chemicals on it, particularly plastic. God love ya, Francis, but you were annoying. Also, dad, do you still have that peasant shirt? It's nice.

Some people took ailing relatives places. Some people took their kids on memorable trips. For example, on this same trip we walked through a maze, just like in The Shining but that wasn't a movie yet so we didn't know to be freaked out, and anyway a cat walked up to me and let me pet her. I have a slide of it but don't know how to show you a slide here.

The other response I heard a lot was, "I'm glad I spent money on Lasik."

Here is an actual unretouched photo of the glasses in my bathroom right now. Several are reading glasses, which I would still need if I got Lasik. Still. Several are my regular glasses, without which I would be mincing around here with my arms out like Helen Keller.

Dear Parents: When you read this and then email me to correct me on the vacation picture, please do not tell me I'm grounded. (That was the standing punishment I had for telling Helen Keller jokes, which is why God struck me with 20/400 vision.)

There were random answers as well: Purses, tuition, houses, pets (June. Hoping those were ADOPTION FEES and not just buying-a-pet fees.) (June. Unable to shut up about this ONE THING. Otherwise she is kind of live and let live, unless we're talking grammar, in which she is live and let June poke fun at you.) and so on.

But what I gleaned from your answers is the best money you spend is the kind that creates memories or helps a loved one in some way. That's nice. And you have not tried Latisse. Is all I'm saying. What better memory can you give a loved one than the sight of your luxurious lashes?

Actually, this photo is from a few weeks ago, when it was Yoko Ono's birthday. I like how I said her last name, because otherwise you'd be all "Yoko who?" I was going to Yoko you all for her birthday and then forgot.

You have no idea how hard it was for me to sit there and Yoko the computer.

I kept cracking myself up.

Remember my grandmother? "Look at that girl. She don't need no one else. Just sits alone and laaaaughs..."

Nice nose wrinkle.

Seriously, it's like I'm getting oxygen. Can I Botox that?

Could Lillee please get pretty mom? It nesisary.

Anyway. Good Pieces of Wisdoming.

Oh, and I think my interview went fine. But I thought the last one went fine and I haven't heard from them, so what do I know?

Oh! (How annoying am I?) And last night Tallulah, Edsel and I sat on the patio and talked to my 96-year-old neighbor Paul. He was back on his glider. We talked for an hour, and the dogs were very good. Other than Edsel nosing Paul's man bits over and over. Anyway, he is still doing just fine. And did I know he grew up right outside TinyTown? Had he told me that before? Anyway he did. He grew up where that little general store is where we'd drive all the way down there to get Cokes in glass bottles.

There was a ton to do in TinyTown.

Okay, really going now.

Oh! (How many of you are grabbing pitchforks right now to stab into my nethers?) My childhood friend's mom put this on Facebook and I said I'd put it on my blog today and then clean forgot. I am the tall one with long hair and the trampy halter or whatever. I would have put this on tomorrow, but I directed Vicki (the cake-cutter) here and how annoying to come here and have to look at 94929394 pictures of me Yokoing and not the one I forced her over here to see?

Pieces of Wi$dom. Do you like what I did, there?

I have to go, because I have a job interview in a few hours and they want me to bring a copy of my resume even though I sent it to them in the first place and I have NO BLANK PAPER here so now I have to go to Office Depot and I wonder how long I could make this sentence?

So because I must rush, I am picking a Pieces of Wisdom question that one of you sent in as an idea: What is the best money you ever spent? Hulk already answered that his divorce attorney was the best money he ever spent.

I said Latisse.

Because even when I am loving my kitten, I still have fabulous lashes.

Anyway, do tell. And speaking of us and our money, Faithful Reader Kate wrote in day before yesterday to say that she is young, has three jobs, and a Pug named Pickle:

I am pretty sure this has to be the same Pickle. A reader named Kate sent in a photo of her dogs Onyx and Pickle when I had you do the "send me a photo from your Thanksgiving" project. I mean, how many Pugs named Pickle could there be?

Anyway, Pickle was really ill and Kate had spent all the money she had on tests and the vet needed several thousand dollars to do more tests and probably surgery. She told us, and in one day got $1,700 in donations for her dog, who is in surgery with blockage as we speak. If anyone else wants to donate, her PayPal address is fabulousfindk@gmail.com.

So really, other than Latisse, the best money I ever spent was the $150 to start this blog. Typepad, with all its bad fonts and its eliminating my punctuation when I leave a comment costs $150 a year. I KNOW!

So thanks to everyone who helped Kate or is planning to. Now tell me your piece o' wisdom.

Pieces of Wisdom. Gone with the Febreze.

We pretty much don't need a lot of dry-erase board use for yesterday's Pieces of Wisdom question, which was how much do you enjoy socializing and how much do you enjoy staying in.

This is good, because as you can see, I had trouble finding a marker that would work on my board. I do not know what happened to the nice marker that came with it but I blame Marvin or Edsel. Perhaps they worked in cahoots. My point is, almost all of you said you were homebodies, which was coming to me as home [space] bodies and home[hyphen]bodies and finally I had to yell at you in the comments. ONE WORD! IT'S ONE WORRRRRRRRD.

June's blog. Come to get yelled at. Stay to get yelled at.

After awhile, and someone noted this in the comments, too, after your hair returned from its blown-back position from my yelling, that people who read blogs may be, you know, introverts in general. Wouldn't the annoying extroverts be out there partayying and hobnobbing and guffawing it up as we speak, with no time to sit in a room and read a blog?

Also, those trash bags that they scented with Febreze make me want to hurl. I realize that was kind of, you know, HEY! from nowhere, except I just put a new trash bag in here and blurrgh.

Febreze. What an annoying name. What is it even short for? A February breeze? Because in general those are sort of unpleasant.

Anyway, thanks for participating. June's readers. Hating people and social activities since birth. Enjoying their pajamas since middle age.

Okay, SOME people were gadabouts. But not many. You all basically said okay. I will go out on weekends, MAYBE. But weekdays? Forget it. And last-minute stuff? Bite me. Oh and whatever you do, please drop in. We all adore that. PEG.

In somewhat related news, I went out last night. 

My friend Jo, featured above, here, wearing a cool coat from my other friend Kit's vintage shop, had a book-up. I really like that coat. I wish I had a job, because I'd totally get a cool vintage coat that the pets could shed on.

A book-up is a thing I think she invented, but it's where a bunch of people get together and read. I am not making that up. We met in a restaurant, introduced ourselves, got out our books and read. We were at several different tables at the restaurant, and we varied in age from 17 (the 17-year-old brought a Kindle) (I am so plebeian) to, you know, middle-aged. In the prime of life. I like to say. I'd be wrong, but still.

I was reading a book my friend Dot sent me, called It Looked Different on the Model, and why did I have to bring a funny book to the book-up? Because everyone was over there reading normal books, and deep books, and there I was, all bent over in hysterics. She has a chapter on this woman who whipped out her breastical at a party, ostensibly to breast-feed, except there was no baby in sight, ever, the entire time her breast was out, and oh, I was dying. DYING. Like I am dying here next to the Febreze bag. And I'm certain I wasn't annoying or distracting. Like the Febreze bag.

Jo made me a certificate of excellence for my blog. I was awarded for my exceptional petspeak.

iris give you petspeek. you wash iriss. @#@% you, mom. Ther you petspeek.

Someone might have, you know, not dropped Mrs. Brown off at the sandbox in a manner that was entirely 100%. And therefore someone may have been dunked in a sink of soapy water. For a while. 'twasn't pleasant.

Look at her teensy foot. Her teensy outraged foot.

Anyway.

After the book-up, Jo and I had coffee across the street, and I feel the need to mention the restaurant and coffee shop were right next door to where my dot dot dot friend lives. I am afraid I sent a disclaimer email before the evening began.

Dear Dot Dot Dot Friend,

I am going to be at a restaurant 20 feet from your apartment. I am not stalking you. XO, June.

I mean, I felt like I had to clear that up. You know? Why he gotta live somewhere so centrally located? Anyway he was all, ...yeah. Okay. Would not have thought that you were.

So then I mentioned how he should not be alarmed by the cherry picker outside his window with me in it. Just happened to be there, too. Why I gotta go too far? With the jokes? (Oh, good. Now someone can leave a comment about how annoying my personality is again, and how I'll never catch a man as a result.)

Also, when I was stalking Iris to get a photo of her wet humiliation, I took a picture of my own self in the mirror, because what's unobnoxious? It's a photo in a mirror. That is what is unobnoxious. Anyway I like it.

I did finally catch that poor kitten and, you know, towel her off. I didn't just get involved with myself in the mirror and let her parade on the wood floors in all her soppiness. I forgot that long-haired cats get this delightful condition every once in awhile. And the part where I have selected short-haired cats has come rushing back to me with remarkable clarity.

Okay, I must go. I have A LUNCH DATE and yes. Another day with a social obligation in it. Perhaps I will talk about Iris' butt the entire time. This could guarantee me more down time.

Go on with ya!

Sadly, every Tuesday is fat Tuesday, over here. Oh, but I brought Pieces O' Wizzdom back!

When did Monster become such a crappy site? It used to be the first place I'd go to look for jobs, and now they list nothing. What happened to it? Does anyone have any good ideas for looking for jobs? I go on Indeed and SimplyHired, those are good. Cragislist here is only a scam. In LA they listed actual jobs. I wish Craigslist would be more, you know, fussy about who advertises on there.

Not that I am not swamped. Do you know there has not been one day since I got laid off that I haven't had work to do? I guess that's good, right? Although to tell you the truth it's been kind of stressy. It's like, ohmygod I have all this work to do and ohmygod will I have work to do next week and also will I have a house next month?

So. Stressy. Is what I am. And if one more person asks if I have heard back from that company Ima come over there and dance the entire Latin hustle on your dinner table. While I am naked except for baseball cleats. It won't be pretty, I assure you. In case you were thinking, Oh! That might be pretty! What a lovely centerpiece that might make for my daughter's wedding!

And I've had a lot of social engagements, too. I think people must feel sorry for me, which, you know. Go ahead. I don't blame you. But I also have not had one day since I got laid off where I have not had the option to go somewhere.

This has all made me cranky. I know. I am a delight.

I wish I just had a day, A DAY, where I could keep to myself. You know? With no commitments or obligations or obligations that I am turning down. You'd think being single and unemployed would garner me just exactly that sitch but in fact it has garnered me the opposite.

Which leads me to a pieces of wisdom, which someone in the comments said I should bring back, and I am sorry, person in the comments, that I do not remember who that was and do not feel like combing through 8,000 Downton Abbey comments to find.

But I used to ask you a question on Tuesday, and you would answer it, and then on Wednesday there'd be a Pieces of Wisdom Wednesday, see, where I often held up a dry-erase board with your statistics. Eleven percent of you prefer rainy days. Remember that exciting Pieces of Wisdom? Half of you are on Team Francis. That sort of thing.

Today's Pieces of Wisdom Q is, do you get cranky when you have too many social obligations? I mean, you might think I am a total extrovert, and in fact I am not. I like going out and doing things, but if I had plans, say, two nights in a row, I had better have nothing to do on night three or Ima be one cranky heifer at your third-night event. I need my alone time.

On the other hand, I know someone {...dick whitman...} who does stuff pretty much every night, and who schedules me a week in advance. "You doing anything next Thursday? I thought we'd see a movie." Next THURSDAY? Who the hell even THINKS about next Thursday? Yeah. Okay, dude. Whatever.

I mean, he comes home from work, and leaves again just to go hang in coffee shops. I'm all, you're HOME. Safe in the bosom of your abode! Why would you want to LEAVE again?

So tell me. Which do you prefer? Doing something and being with people as often as possible (this sounds to me like Faithful Reader Joann)? Seeing people as little as possible (FR Siren)? Seeing people on a set schedule, like, "We have dinner with our friends every Thursday. If they dropped in on Tuesday I'd get hives"?

Tell all.

Life has its perks, Steve Jobs is dead and that's sad, and it's Snowing at the pound

Dear Mr. Steve Jobs,

Thank you for the cool computer. And phone. And iPod. And stuff.

Love, June

In other news--

I got a percolator! At least one of you told me to in the comments so I threw caution to the wind. Well. More specifically, I threw 42 dollars to Target.

It is in there making perk-perk-perk sounds as we speak. Which we aren't. But you know what I mean. It's so cool! Percolators are a sound from my childhood. Am expecting a teensy Piglet figurine on my cereal spoon today, too.

Did anyone else have one of those? It must have come in some cereal but I am unsure.

Oh! And in case you read my comments last night, listen to THIS!

I was strolling with the curs last night, as I am wont to do (one of my neighbors and I were chatting when the snooty spaniel woman walked by last night, and the neighbor watched my dogs hurl themselves and foam at the mouth and show their dumb teeth and he said, "Those dogs need a lot of work." Yeah. Thanks for that news flash), and I passed the Snowflake house.

"Kin we pet yer dawgs?!" they screamed, as they always do.

(Here they are, tormenting Roger, in case you've forgotten them)

"Where's Snowflake?" I asked, as I always do. It is never worth it to go over there if Snowflake is out, as then it just War of the Noses, with everyone barking and being appalled and picketing funerals and so forth.

"SNOWFLAKE'S AT THE POUUUND!" they all screamed.

What?

Their nipple-ring dad ambled over, although I am relieved to tell you he had on a shirt yesterday.

"Either Snowflake or Goldilocks bit the mailman. They got out," said Nipple-Ring, looking sad. "They told me it'd be 600 dollars to get 'em out and I don't have that kinda money."

Those dogs are always getting out. They have a chihuahua named Pedro, who you notice I have never once mentioned because I could not be more indifferent to Pedro, plus it annoys me because twice I have tried to catch him to return him and he's a speedy em eff. Anyway, Pedro spends more time out of the fence than in.

"I'll see you guys later!" I said, stampeding for home.

"WHAT'S YOUR DAD'S NAME?" the littlest one, who is a button--have I mentioned that?-- called after me. Those kids are fascinated by my every move. I have no idea why.

I ignored her, in case she was trying to steal my identity or something, and raced home. The dogs were all, "What Sam Hill is mom hurry?"

How fast did I get to the dang pound, do you think? Did I have any idea what I was gonna do once I got there? No. But I cannot STAND the thought of those dogs in the pound. They are good dogs. They do not BITE. I mean, maybe they DID bite the mailman but I pretty much petted Snowflake over her fence every day for two years and she never remotely even showed me a fang.

Yeah. Stupid pound. Do you know what their dumb hours are? Noon to six. NOON TO SIX. How are those even hours?

Am totally going there at noon today, and does anyone want a dog?

   

I Noflake. Noflake assure you no maleman bitin' occurred.

And in closing. In summation. Finally. Thanks for participating in Chunks of Wisdom or whatever...the part that surprised me the most? That y'all are partial to certain kinds of ketchup. Really? I never notice a difference.

You also seemed to be loyal to Coke products...

Bah!

And you were almost religious about either Twizzlers or Red Vines. Which is another topic of indifference for me. Ketchup, licorice and Pedro. All "eh" topics for June.

Okay, will give a Snowflake report as conditions warrant. I promise you those dogs are sweet and if anyone is interested please alert me. Goldilocks looks just like Snowflake except (wait for it) gold. Those genetics, man. They work every time.

 

Van Gardens

Guess who cannot wait for her stupid Wen to get here? What hair? Good gravy.

My large hair and I have a date tonight. With a whole new boy. I will let you know if (a) I am killed on said date and (3) if I like him remotely. I don't mean if I like him from far away. BAH!

In the meantime, I must get up off this chair and get ready for work. I am late posting today because Roger wanted to eat Edsel's food and it was a whole thing. In the end, Roger won.

Team Roger!

I do have a Pieces of Wisdom question today, however. You know how I like to keep a precise schedule and never waver from it. But someone brought up V05 the other day in the comments, and my grandmother always used V05. I think it's to calm down your hair. I totally need V05000. 

Anyway, she was brand loyal, my grandmother. You always saw Pond's Cold Cream, Secret deodorant, Blue Grass perfume, watermelon-colored lipstick and that V05 in her bathroom.

Also a tiny comb that I have no idea how she used. I mean, is that what she combed her HAIR with? It must have taken an hour and 45 minutes to comb her hair with that Lilliputian thing.

At any rate, that is my query for today. Are you brand loyal? I am so not. I always think the next wonderful thing is just around the corner and I always buy it and go "eh." And also when I FIND a wonderful thing, like Illegal Lengths mascara, they discontinue it. Bastards.

I had a friend who once told me "they" were the Van Pattens. Whenever you say, "they," that's who we all meant. But since none of us go around thinking about Dick Van Patten and that cute feathered-haired son of his who used to play tennis with Farrah Fawcett--

VINCE! Vince Van Patten! That was his name.

  

Had he even DONE anything other than feather his hair?

Anyway, since we never think about the Van Pattens anymore, I think "they" is now the Kardashians.

Oh! And while I'm on the topic of deep celebrities, did anyone else watch The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills last night? If they keep showing that chubby, obnoxious woman with the $25,000 sunglasses, Ima stop watching. I do not tune in to that show to watch unattractive people who could be you and me other than the money.

Not that any of you are chubby or unattractive. I LOVE what you're wearing today.

So anyway, brand loyalty. Do you have it? If so, for what? Makeup, cleaning supplies, cars, Manx cats? Tell all.

I am brand loyal to Vince Van Patten. Really, he looks like every guy from my high school who could be found lighting a fattie out back before fifth hour.

Okay, tell me.

Love,

June

 

 

Corncob wisdom

Tallulah ate a corn cob that she found in the road on our walk, and even though I said, "DROP IT!" she did not right away. I mean, you find something good like that, you gotta ignore your mom.

The point is, she then spent the night barfing and guess who got bad sleep and is now late? Late because of a corn cob.

So because I have to go, I leave you with a question: What is your favorite thing about yourself?

Speak.

Pieces of Wisdom

I inexplicably bring back Pieces of Wisdom to ask:

What the hell happened to my quiet, undramatic life, and how can I get it back?