You know my grandmother, the one I'm turning into? Today would be her 93rd birthday. And two days ago, it was her 70th wedding anniversary.
I got married two days after my birthday. I never noticed that before, our whole wedding/birthday two-day difference.
There she is, younger than I am now, with me on her lap, although I cropped myself out of that photo ages ago. See how there's...hair on her lap? Yeah. I so dig her glasses. Would be sporting those glasses right now.
I just got my eyes examined, actually, the other day. I got mad at my eye doctor and after eight years, switched to the competing place across the street. Which by the way is something Grammy would have done. Actually, I got mad at the receptionist, not the doctor, who was in fact lovely. She was super nerdy and quiet, the doctor, and yet she and her equally nerdy husband liked to travel all over to visit roller coasters. You just never know about people.
That quiet guy next to you is wearing women's underwear. I just read an article about that, actually, about how the writer checks men for lines, women's underwear lines, and she sees them all the time. At this point I'm starting to wonder if ANYONE'S vanilla. Is anyone? If so, tell me. I like how I went from my grandmother to non-vanilla sex. She'd tell me that'a a bunch of horseshit.
Anyway, I like the new place so much better. My new eye doctor, I mean. They have all this newfangled equipment, and they didn't have to dilate my eyes, which if you ask me is like a kiss from Satan. Also, my new doctor said, "FIFTY? You don't look 50!" And that is when we had intercourse in the eye exam chair. He kept showing me his moves and saying, "Do you like one {click} or two?"
That whole thing where they make you look at one eye chart and then {click} another always makes me nervous. Hell, I don't know which one is right. I saw them each so long ago. What if I get it wrong?
Anyway, he said my eyeballs look firm and strong. Way up firm and high. Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy. Out in the back seat of my '60 Chevy. We were just young and restless and bored.
My eye doctor and I were none of those things, so he gave me an EVEN STRONGER prescription and we called it a day.
"Do you know what you should do that'd be hilarious? After each exam, you should bring out a seeing eye-dog and hand the patient the leash," I said, and really, I don't know why I'm not a millionaire with these ideas. I also, when the doctor said he was going to check my eye pressure, asked if he was just going to stick his fingers in my eyes.
I think my new eye doctor is going to try to mediate between me and my old eye doctor.
June's Coworkers' Senior Pictures
Since Bitchy Resting Face Alex only got half a day to do her senior picture pose yesterday before I panicked about something that was probably nothing, but different than the day before, I am putting her senior picture pose back up. And I'm giving you a new one...
Dying.
I have to go. I have to smoke a More cigarette and stare out the living room window dramatically, in honor of my grandmother. She also did the jitterbug on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial at midnight, with a similarly drunk soldier, and if I can swing that I'll do that, too.
Monumentally,
June
Also?