I had the most uncomfortable dream just before I woke up, and don't you hate people who tell you about their dreams? I was back in LA, and it was New Year's Eve, and I was alone on a crowded street. And that's depressing. You go back to the place you lived for more than 10 years and you're alone on New Year's Eve? Okay, loser.
I ran into my friend Beth, and if you click that link it will further everyone's theory that I don't know any ugly people. Anyway, she was all, "Heyyyy!" and that right there is ridiculous. We were pretty good friends when I lived in LA, and we lived within walking distance of each other. Do you remember a few years back when that faithful reader was nice enough to send me to LA, and then because I'd been unemployed at that point for eight months, I didn't even have enough money to board the dogs and have spending cash, so I didn't go? Well, anyway, Beth is who I was staying with in LA.
So if she'd just RUN INTO ME on the STREET and I hadn't told her I was coming to town, I feel like it'd be less, "Heyyyy!" and more, "What the fuck? How are you here and you didn't tell me? Are you screwing my husband or something?"
But that is not what happened. Then we ran into this guy I'd worked with and really liked, and for the life of me I could not remember his name. "Oh, no," I thought. "I've been gone so long, and now I can't remember this funny gay guy's name and shit." So I pretended to choke on a peanut so I wouldn't have to introduce them, because you know the traditional New Year's Eve walking-on-a-street-in-LA snack is peanuts.
When I woke up I realized the gay guy in the dream was Anthony from Designing Women.
So that's what's new with me. What's new with you? Oh, and speaking of peanuts, today is day one of my Weight Watchers diet, and won't you watch my weight with me?
Here. I just got up and crossed the room in my nice pajama bottoms and tank, for my "before" picture. Who am I, JLo? My ass and I would like to thank the Academy. "Big through the hips? Roomy, Clarice?"
Wait, let me take a frontal shot so you can enjoy my roomy hips.
Sexayyy.
How much do you think I weigh? I am 5'6". I do not know, as I have no scale. The scale at the doctor's seems to be about 35 pounds off. I don't know how they get away with such an inaccurate tool. Anyway my goal weight is 8 pounds six ounces, which is what I weighed at birth. I've done it before, so we all know I can get there.
Speaking of health and physical fitness, our friend Hulk has lost 30 pounds! Does anyone recall last year when he went on a date and instead of ordering mashed potatoes and a choice of vegetable, he got double mashed potatoes?
It is possible that Hulk is my soulmate.
Anyway, yeah. So now at work, when people say, "You losing weight?" he says to them, "Yeah. I have a tumor."
It is possible that Hulk is my soulmate.
So, now my mashed-potato soulmate is running a 5k. He wrote me:
I have already figured out how this 5K is going to play out:
· 1st half-mile: “Hey, this isn’t so bad.”
· 1st mile: “Holy shit. How much farther do we have to go?”
· 1.5 miles: “Eff you, kid!”
· 2 miles: “Dude, would you squeeze my hand? I can’t feel anything on my left side.”
· 2.5 miles: “Excuse me. Sir? Are you seeing dead relatives too?”
· 3 miles: “To my dearest daughter NotChloe, I bequeath all my worldly possessions. DON’T SELL MY ARCHIE GRIFFIN JERSEY!”
· 3.2 miles: “NotChloe, can you drive a stick?”
Do you enjoy my Hulk-green Hulk font?
Is there anyone reading this, like mom for example, who can attend said 5k and take photos for us? We'd all like photographic evidence of Hulk's last few minutes on earth.
So I'll keep you posted on the Progression of the New Thin Hulk and June. I feel like maybe my next post will go like this:
I am so fucking hungry.
Love, June
