The pet photographer, not that he's my pet, sent me this early. He hasn't edited the other photos yet but he wanted to send this. If you're local, by the way, he's called Lucky Pup Photography. I mean, his mom doesn't call him that. You know what I mean. Look at Lu's big, beautiful head. I can't even stand it, she's so cute.
After a long day at the studio, Tallulah relaxes at home. Edsel has never once dared to go on the couch, and I've kicked Tallulah off as well, but lately if I'm on there I spread a blanket and let her come up and sleep on me. Last night I came in and she, oh, bent the rules maybe a tad. Jerk.
Yesterday was a busildy day, as Mondays generally are. I wrote next week's Purple Clover, and worked at my regularly scheduled job, and then I may or may not have caught up on my Bravo shows via the Bravo app. Do you have the Bravo app? What on earth is wrong with you? And here's what I have to say to my lofty Real Housewives friends: You know how Yolanda took Lisa and Kyle to that cryogenic tank to get frozen, to reduce inflammation? And how Kyle said her knee felt better after?
Years ago, I was in a bar in Seattle, and this old Russian lady told me I should pour cold water on myself every morning. Turns out, she was right. Inflammation, man. I like how I'm hopping on this inflammation train after it puffily left the station 10 years ago.
Tonight I'm headed to the old movie theater, where they are showing From Here to Eternity. I have never seen this movie before; I know it's the one where they french kiss on the sand, which, crunchy. I am assuming it's about leaving your house to go buy Eternity for Men. I once dated someone who wore Eternity for Men. I rarely date men who wear the man perfume, but I always have liked it. Any time I smell that, I think of that particular guy. Another wore Alfred Sung, and it smelled so good, and I'm sorry to tell you I bought some for Marvin later.
That was pretty creepy of me, now that I write it out loud.
Do you have a signature scent? I fear that right now, mine might be "Dog." "Daugué, for Women." It might even be Daugué Pee. For Women. Yesterday I bought pee pads, to spread on the floor, as opposed to making a prom dress out of them, and I was so worried some cashier would be all, "Oh, do you have a puppy!?" and I'd burst into tears.
My ex-best-friend had a cat that lived to be 25. Toward the end, there, it had to pee on pads cause it couldn't get up, and right there was a case of someone who let their pet live too long. At any rate, once her mom was at the grocery store buying adult diapers for the cat to pee on, and cat food. She said someone gave her a dirty look at the store, like she was feeding an old lady cat food.
I gotta go. But before I do, I wanted to ask you. Will you marry me? No. That is not what I wondered.
Yesterday my friend at work had to take her boyfriend to the airport. "Where's he going"? I asked. "Oh, he's on his way to Nerd Camp. All the engineers go and talk about nerd things. There're discussions, and experiments, and he'll be beside himself the whole time."
That got me to thinking: What would be my nerd camp? Like, what kind of camp would I go to where it'd be all my people all the time? Makeup camp? Kitten camp?
BABY LION CAMP??
Maybe this blog is my nerd camp.
Anyway, what would your camp entail? Like, if you could go away and be among your people, who would they be? Knitters? Math experts? Would it be a sex camp? Craft camp, or as I like to call it, hell? Let me know.
XO,
June
P.S. When I'm done blogging every morning, I stampede over to my categories to pick on or 70 for the day. At the very top of the list is "...friend/Ned." It's at the top, I guess, due to the ellipses. There is no way to delete categories that I can find, so every day the "...friend/Ned" category mocks me. It mocks my pain. That's all.