In what universe did I think the questions would trickle in?
You asked June, and now June will answer. Apparently, all these questions have made June refer to herself in the third person.
I wanted to throw in an official Ask June photo, by the way, one where I look stern and full of answers, but this one with all the Christmas decorations in the background just kind of makes me look like the least-fun person you'd ever meet at a Christmas party. Also, I like how I have clearly smeared my mascara a little on my right eye, making me an un-fun and also sloppy party guest. Back that ass up.
Anyway, I will answer my mother's question first, which is how am I gonna answer all these ding-dang questions? Here is my plan; tell me what you think. So far, you have asked about 43 questions. Rather than KILL you and drive you to DRINK by answering them all, I thought Fridays could be Ask June day, and each Friday I could answer five more questions — five more of the ones you have asked, and/or any additional questions that come in. Each Thursday I could remind you that Ask June day is here, and you could commence to asking.
The five questions I have answered today (and it is officially Thursday night, but I figure the majority of you will read this on Friday) I picked by going on a "please pick five random numbers" site, which was fun, is what it was. Way more fun than that stiff glaring at you in the spectacles, above. Who am I, Miss Grundy?
J wants to know, What is your IQ?
It's 127, which happens to be the same as Tony Soprano's. I loved The Sopranos, didn't you? Don't you hate people who pronounce it Sopraaaaanos? I know my IQ because my Uncle Leo, who was a schoolteacher, had to give IQ tests for some reason or another and he used me as a guinea pig, even though if you'll recall from my fifth-grade diary, I'm nobody's guinea pig.
He also coincidentally tested a kid who went on to be my high school boyfriend who sometimes reads this blog, and that high school boyfriend recently reminded me that he tested five IQ points higher than me, which bugs me. Said high school boyfriend reminded me that it bugged me then, and I guess I need to feel like I am smarter than my high school boyfriend, even though he did trick me into losing my virginity by saying, on a hot summer day, "Come up to my room. It's cooler upstairs."
Heat RISES, folks. Rises.
Bell wonders, Do you keep a little trash bag for trash in your car?
Oh, Bell. Honey, no. You clearly do not know me in real life, for I am a slob of gargantuan proportions. My car is practically brand-new and it is COVERED in dog fur and coffee and 97 receipts from Harris Teeter and straw wrappers from Sonic. To have a trash bag in my car would mean I was remotely organized, which I am so not.
I was a lot more organized when I freelanced. I do not know how working mothers do it.
Tee queries, Would you discuss affect/effect?
Why yes, yes I would. Here is the most simple method I use for choosing effect/affect. Can you use the word "alter"? Then the correct word is affect. That marijuana really altered my mood! That marijuana really affected my mood!
Your tone has a negative alter on me. Makes no sense, right? So it's "effect." Your tone has a negative effect on me.
Let's try another. The poor economy is really going to alter how often I get my brows waxed. The poor economy is really going to affect how often I get my brows waxed. (By the way, no it isn't.) Will you put a new budget into alter? Will you put a new budget into effect?
See what I mean?
Kristen says, I can do affect and effect but what is the difference between farther and further?
I swear I used the random chooser thing, but that was a pretty cool segue, if I do say so myself. Plus the word segue is a pretty cool word, as well. How not cool am I? Do you think Fonzie ever cared about the word segue? Do you think that my ideal of cool being Fonzie just made me sink that much lower into uncool territory?
I'll tell you, Kristen, what the difference is between further and farther. One has an 'a' in it and one has a 'u.' BAhahahahahahaha!
Really, though. Farther is always talking about an actual distance. "She ran father than Joe."
Further is your hippie, nebulous, political science major friend who won't get a real job. It refers to degrees, not real distances. I always think of the line, "I won't discuss this any further." Further is never a real, measurable amount.
So, farther is the accountant, further is the poet.
Bonnie queries, What do you miss about your job as church secretary in Tiny Town?
Oh, so many things. First of all, the building itself was stunning. The church was built in the 1800s, and I was there alone so often, and churches are somehow lovelier when no one is in them, I think. Also, the rector was just a hoot, and who could complain about the hours? Eight to 12, Monday through Thursday? Woo! Tough.
But most of all? Come on now. The women. Those church women were the bomb. They were hilarious, so nice to me, full of the stories, totally fascinating, and I loved it whenever any of them came in. Each one of them was like a little gem in my day. I liked it when they were in the kitchen together, a bunch of them. I would sit in my office and just listen to their voices. They all had classy accents.
So, those are my Ask June questions for today. I enjoyed Ask June. I am dying dying dying to answer all those grammar questions, but I will have to be patient.
Now, go do the right thing.