Say, before I forget, if you somehow know my real name (because no, it isn't really June Gardens. How many people not age 187 do you know named June?) and have requested me as a Facebook friend? Please leave me a little comment on the request, like, "Hey, June, I read your stupid blog" so I know you're not just some groper who wants to friend me to steal my pork chops.
I have no idea why my pork chops mean so much to me. Oh, and that reminds me. Waitpeople of the South? YOU DON'T NEED TO CHECK ON US MORE THAN ONCE. Really. Come take the order, plunk it down, check on us one time and then bring the bill. That's all we want.
It is a PHENOMENON here, folks. The waitress will interrupt your scintillating conversation at least four times. "Everything still going okay?" "Y'all want some more sweet tea?" "Have I shown you pictures of my kids?" "Do y'all ever get bunions?" Every five minutes, like a gnat.
Seriously, today's waitress SAT IN THE BOOTH WITH US, and told us about her divorce. I understand you all pride yourselves on being friendly? But heavens to BETSY, just let us have dinner alone.
Perhaps my Yankee is showing.
Anyway, we had a good time on our trip. We went to a cabin in the mountains…
…after a horrifying mountain drive in which the road was a width of a bobby pin and had the straightness of Carson Kressley.
It was one of those mountain roads where one side drops off into oblivion, as opposed to one of those mountain roads that are right flush with ground level.
When I get nervous in the car, I get quiet, and Marvin tries to assuage my fears by acting super, super casual. So we're whipping around these Road Runner cliffs, and cars are careening toward us unexpectedly because it's so CURVY you have no idea what's next, and my fear is we'll round another nauseating bend and there will be a deer or a moose or Moose and Squirrel or whatever and we'll swerve and that'll be it.
So what Marvin does is he turns up the radio, and starts drumming to the music, and whistling, and playing air guitar, because there's nothing to fear, see, so why not PLAY AIR TRIANGLE while we make these HAIRPIN TURNS NINE THOUSAND FEET ABOVE SEA LEVEL.
Finally, I pointed out to Marvin that his casualness is not making me feel calmer. What WOULD make me feel calmer is knowing he was CLEARLY AWARE of the scariness of the drive and that he was giving it his FULL ATTENTION.
Oh, because did I also mention how he was obsessed with watching my GPS, and how the little map on the screen would twist and turn just like the road was twisting? It reminded me of the road signs in Pee Wee's Big Adventure where they show a normal curvy road sign, then a curvier sign, then a ridiculously convoluted twisty-ass sign. Anyway, Marvin was enjoying watching the VIRTUAL road more than the ACTUAL, HORRIFYING road, and anyway, it was a lovely way to start the romantic weekend, is what I'm saying to you.
Here was our view when we finally got there alive and still married.
Here was all the prettiness that ensued when we went on a hike. I tried not to think of snakes and Jason with the hockey mask and Blair Witch Project while we were traipsing in the woods.
Do you think Marvin is wondering where he can get a quickie divorce out there in the mountains?
Behold the sensible shoes I wore to go hiking. But they do match my blog.
Anyway, I lived through coming around the mountain AGAIN on the way back down. Marvin drummed to reggae music, which sounds exactly like oompah music to me, and he also jammed out to Chuck E's in Love and also not to mention Ricky Don't Lose that Number, like it's good.
Now we're back and we don't have Tallulah, because did I mention they don't allow DOGS in a CABIN, which, hello. Why NOT? Granted, it was a really tidy and nicely done cabin and maybe some dogs would chew it up, but MINE wouldn't. Much. Made me think of that Twilight Zone where the guy won't go to heaven if he can't take his dog.
Anyway, so Lula is still boarding at dog day care and so we are all cats, all the time people tonight and Francis is SO HAPPY. He's here in the computer room with me, so now we know his desire to stay on his chair all day is because of the dog and not because he has cat arthritis. Poor Fran. He probably thinks we dumped the dog in the mountains and now he's free! Free to be Fran and me!
How sad he'll be tomorrow when Lula comes flapping home.
…So what did everyone else do all weekend?