Your gal June just ran six dinglity dang miles. Thank you.
We went to the high school track, which by the way our high school's mascot is the whirlies or something. Twenty-four times I ran around that track, and each time I saw, "Go, Whirlies." What is a whirly? Isn't that that thing where they stick your head in the toilet and flush?
At any rate, Marvin and Tallulah walked around the high school for awhile, then finally they sat in the stands and read a book. Well, Lula didn't. She really isn't into fantasy literature, which is what Margin was reading. Okay, who is getting the biggest kick ever out of "Margin"?
So, Marvin was all engrossed in his book, but Lula watched me every single time I ran past her. She was sittin' up, lookin' all Labby, like, "No one is chasing her. What is she doing?" Finally, I couldn't stand her cuteness and I got her leash and took her around the track with me a few times.
Okay, who is a gazelle? Geez, she runs like the wind. I kind of run like that puff of air you get when they test you for glaucoma. Puff! That was really unpleasant, and now it's over.
Anyway, she wore me out. And it was humiliating, because she'd see I couldn't keep up, so she did this patronizing fast trot next to me.
So now I am home, and I am packed except for toiletries, seeing as I will need them in the a.m. And then tomorrow night I will realize I forgot eleven thousand necessary things. Do you do that too, or are you more organized than that, smugness?
I am tuckered, but I did want to share with you my birthdays past, cause have I mentioned I have a birthday coming up? Don't you just totally want to shove my birthday up my ass by now?
Here I am turning five, with the giant drink in my hand, doing all the talking. My how things have changed. What is sad about this picture is it looks ANCIENT. It's all black and white, everything on at a different angle cause the earth spun differently back then or something.
See the chick with her back to the camera? That is my oldest and dearest friend, Pal from MA, who comments sometimes. She lives in MA. She is not my pal who can't get over the fact that she came from her mother's womb or anything.
Also, the boy and the girl who you can see? That dark-haired kid is a girl. She always had a short haircut, and it never really worked for her. Anyway, her family won the lottery many years later. I am not even kidding. Perhaps she invested in extensions.
There's my Aunt Mary, the one who likes to shop, and me, being eight and into gingham.
Really, how much do you think my mother regretted having kids? I am 16 and not at all an obnoxious teen. And what a snappy, unslutty dresser! Look how I can wear jeans that tight and not muffin top out.
I am also enjoying the pussy willows hanging on the wall, cause there's a look, and I had forgotten about that depressing pencil drawing hanging back there.
That wasn't a real gun, by the way. If it had, my mother would have shot me in my sleep way before I hit 16.
Twenty-five, in London. That girl was the most annoying roommate ever. And she had a boyfriend named Simon, who decidedly was NOT in London with us, and she talked about him 700 times a day. She started nearly every sentence with , "Simon says…" I half-expected to have to take three baby steps and a fire engine.
Carpe Diem indeed. She kissed another boy while we were there. Geez, I hope she never finds this blog.
Thirty and trying not to be depressed about not having a husband. Despite my Scarlett O'Hara at the barbecue thing there with being surrounded by men, I didn't even have a boyfriend at the time.
Nice thigh-highs. I still have that box. I keep all Margin's old love letters in it. That's sort of nice, isn't it? YOU GOT THREE MORE YEARS, SISTER! YOU WON'T BE ON THE COVER OF THE OLD MAID DECK!
Sing with me now, this is 40! Margin threw me a surprise party at the bowling alley. Cause you can take us out of Michigan…
Anyway, I hope to blog at you from the road, eventually. Y'all have a good week and stay out of trouble. Carpe Diem.