I got up this morning, swept 950 pounds of pet hair, then started noticing all the things I wanna do around here. I photographed them for your viewing pleasure. Or, alternatively, your viewing boredom.
I see that the camera chose to focus on Edsel rather than my Eiffel Tower tattoo, and it's probably just USED to focusing on a pet. The point is, as much as I love the Eiffel Tower, this tattoo has always bugged me. I want to girl it up, maybe change it to a cherry blossom tattoo or something. The part where the guy made it an Eiffel tripod bugs. Did he not really know what the Eiffel Tower was? I brought in my key chain as a visual aid, not that it was a round metal key chain, which would have been hilarious. It was an Eiffel Tower, see. Is what it was.
Anyway, fixing this is on my list. I realize I'm 50 and almost dead so hooo care, but it's still on my list.
I love these jeans, and they've had a ripped zipper almost since I got them. I gotta get that hole fixed. Incidentally, thanks, Gap. You put the gap in Gap.
I'd like to find someone I loved the way I loved Ned, but who, you know, deserves my stupid undying over-the-top affections. He got me this for Christmas last year, Ned did. In fact, he printed it out and had it framed and so on, because we loved this movie and watched it every year, and when we were house-hunting, our house had this photo in the living room and we knew it was a sign. Turns out signs are bullshit. Still.
I've been on OK Cupid for awhile now, and everyone I meet on there is named Mark, but so far I have no exciting connections with any Marks. I have also met two men named Alan, although one spells it Allen. Really. Like, 17 men named Mark and Allen/Alan so far. Maybe if I meet a nice Xavier I'll know it's true love.
I have to get the front porch painted. It's depressing me. It was fine when I moved out and when I came back, it was Officially Depressing®.
See this floodlight up in Tibet? Needs changing. That looks easy.
Gate also needs painted. I totally need to Tom Sawyer that shit. What I should do is COMBINE my Mark Allen love connection with someone who loves to fix shit. Now, THAT would be ideal.
Address the issue of WHERE DID THE GRASS GO in my yard. Again went from okay when I moved away to third-world-country when I came back. I have left a message/got one back/left ANOTHER message with a landscaper whose name is not Mark nor Allen, so we'll see if we ever really end up talking and addressing the issues of the day. Where we legalize grass. Bah.
Do you ever want to annoy me? Call it "phone tag." Adore that. Or leave me a voicemail that says, "Tag, you're it." Oh, hooo hooo hoooo hoooo hoooo hoooooooo! Lemme wipe m'eyes.
Antidepressant. Completely worn off. Can you tell? Irritated by everything.
Dear Marty Martin: What happened to the part where you were gonna help me put up my zoo sign? Also, is Edsel EVERYWHERE? Creepy.
Lu is sleeping. It's her piroxicam day. Every other day she gets this NSAID called piroxicam to reduce her pain and inflammation, and it's doing a great job, but on pill day she gets sleepy in her square head parts.
Get the goddamn caster attached to this goddamn chair. I love this chair, but am forever falling forward at a dangerous angle because my chair is the Eiffel tripod. How on earth do I fix that? I know. Google fucking it. I also have a stuck drawer I Google fuckinged and Ima fix that today. It's easy, turns out.
Fix the deck. In fact, I'd like to make the deck bigger, which is the story of my life. Hoooooo haaaaaaaaa.
I dunno. Get this chair recovered, or am I just being dramatic? Good lord.
Ditto.
Sigh. I just painted this a few years ago. I have no idea what I did wrong, or why god hates me, although it may have something to do with what an evil woman I am. Eeevil woman, do do do do do do DO do.
Those horrible movers who called me a whore broke the glass shelf in my hutch and did not fix it or give me a discount. And now I have no idea where to go to get a new piece of glass. I've Google fuckinged it and found nothing.
My tenants who lived here during my year abroad were ideal except for one thing. Screen. Broken. Needs fixed. Where is my new handy boyfriend Mark Alan? Or my new rich boyfriend Ethan Allan? Or Alan Quartermaine, for that matter. He has bucks.
Whenever I Google "replacement glass for a hutch" I get tons of sites for fixing cracked windshields. I've had it like this for more than a year, it''' cost $333 to fix it, which I can afford, and do I ever do it? No. Instead I have double double, double vision. Also, that Visitor Parking tag is from Ned's apartment building, a place he moved from a year and a half ago, plus also he and I broke up six months ago, so yeah. I might could take that thing down now.
My car, which I purchased new in 2008, is just minutes from rolling over to 80,000 miles. It's all very exciting, and on Monday I'm taking it in to get inspected and permed and waxed and primped like when everyone was on their way to see the wizard. I'll even dye its eyes to match its gown.
I raged against it, but I really think I need a coffee table.
My neighbor Peg told me that a really large nail should be enough to hang up this pretty old medicine cabinet I've had for awhile and wanted to use. I'd love to turn the inside into a jewelry holder but don't know how to hang wires from one side to the other. What I am not is handy. Does anyone know? Does it involve owning tools? Because not a lesbian.
Also, find a cure for transitional cell carcinoma.
Do you feel overwhelmed? Me too. I think I'll go eat something.
Mark Alanlessly,
June
