June tells you a bunch of stupid things using Korean numerals 1-10 instead of bullet points

Ha Na. For about a year, I took a Korean yoga class in Los Angeles. I absolutely loved it. It was called Dahn yoga. If you have Dahn yoga in your town, I highly recommend it. Among other things, you will learn to count to ten in Korean, and you never know when this will come in handy.

On Friday nights at Korean yoga class, they played African drum music. We had to close our eyes and dance any way we wanted to, paying attention to any parts that were stiff or sore. Then afterward we did this really challenging tiger pose that liked to kill you. Sometimes people cried during tiger pose. Oh, I loved Friday nights at Korean yoga.

After each session, we drank tea and sat in a circle and the leader would tell us something deep. My friend Renee told me the whole time I went there, my skin had a glow.

Dul. I read everyone’s recommendations on what colors to paint my living room and dining room. I plan to drag Marvin to look at paint colors soon. But also, remember how I said I was a huge gaudy wallpaper person? It occurred to me, why not wallpaper in the dining room? Why not wallpaper huge retro 1950s wallpaper where the stripes are? I know you all said you like the stripes:

Stripes
Here are the stripes, for anyone who got amnesia since last week, or whatever.

But I am starting to feel like I live inside Farrel’s olde tyme ice cream parlor or something. And I know my next-door neighbor painted those for the last person who lived here, but it turns out SHE doesn’t like them, either.

Anyway, I started going on retro wallpaper sites and I am beside myself.

Floral

Yes, I am a gay man from 1978.

And I have totally roped my Aunt Mary into helping me wallpaper. I asked her to come visit me. Told her we would bond, like we haven’t already bonded in the last 44 years. This will probably be the first time my Aunt Mary has ever bitch slapped me, over a tub of wallpaper paste. What a lovely family memory!

Anyway, the wallpaper above is not my final decision, I am just saying. Something retro. Something Bette Midler. Something like that.

Set. Somebody found my blog the other day by Googling “If your grandma join Eastern Star do that mean she going to hell.”

Net. I turned on the TV–or the tivvy, as my cousin Katie used to say when she was two–in order to amuse myself when I was de-furring the couch the other day. I do not turn on the tivvy at all in the daytime because you know why? I will watch TV all day if I turn it on. That is why. But I turned it on so that I would not think about what an arduous task de-furring the couch is, although I have to tell you that the Scotch Fur Fighter is the best new invention for just such a task. And no, no one is paying me to say that.

You can get them at Target, where you can get anything worthwhile.

Da Seot. The POINT of my story above is that the show I turned on was Bewitched, which I will always watch if given the choice. Remember Nick at Night? What happened to Nick at Night? They would have Bewitched Bewednesdays. I loved that.

Anyway, as I was watching the other day, it occurred to me for the first time, Endora was right. We were supposed to think Endora was ridiculous and that Samantha and Darren were the sane ones, but what was up with Darren? He was so threatened by Samantha’s powers! In this episode, Sam was cooking an elaborate dinner, and Endora put a ball and chain around Sam’s leg. She said, “If you’re going to be a slave, you might as well look the part.”

I was all, no kidding. I mean, why couldn’t she go on being who she was? Stupid Darren.

Ya Soet. The one thing you cannot get at Target that is worthwhile is the Hermes Kelly bag. I think if I ever had money to burn, I would be torn between buying myself a real Chanel suit or a Hermes Kelly bag. And I would probably go with the Kelly, because if I got fat, I could still wear the Kelly.

Hermes-Kelly-bag

Il Goep. Yesterday I got up and made myself TWO POACHED EGGS. All by myself! I knew how because Faithful Reader and Commenter Furry Godmother told me how in the comments the other day. It’s easy. Did you know that? It was so exciting that I called my mother and told her.

I don’t cook a lot.

Yeo Deol. When I woke up THIS morning, Tallulah and I had formed a perfect circle. Her chin was on my hips, and my head was on her dog buttocks. I think it’s because we were freezing to death. It rained overnight, I think. And you know I am not allowed to turn on the heat in April. Oh, yes, Marvin WOULD know if I turned on the heat, somehow. He would be over there at school and he would feel it. And he would call me and yell at me. Marvin is mean.

A Hop. I am rethinking my taste in friends. Recently I was drawn to a person who was really charismatic, and made you feel like you were the only person in the room, and then when I called her she did not call me back. I am forever friends with people who do not call me back.

I used to be friends with this big group of women, and we all still keep in touch, but the one who has remained the truest friend is the one who called the least attention to herself back then. She always returned my calls, she always showed up when she said she would, she was always on time.

I am thinking I should pay less attention to the outside parts and pay more attention to stuff like, are they reliable?

I am 44 and a half. No. I am 44 and three-quarters. I am just learning this.

Yeol. I have NOT.EVEN.STARTED. my statistics textbook yet, as I am still working on the OTHER textbook. And yesterday I took a giant quiz for another academic proofreading company. And yet we are still broke. How is that possible? I guess that Hermes handbag continues to elude me.

And there you have the Korean numbers one through ten, and a lot of crap you really did not need to know. Well. You totally needed to know I made poached eggs all by myself. That is news.

121 thoughts on “June tells you a bunch of stupid things using Korean numerals 1-10 instead of bullet points

  1. My favourite thing ever is poaching an egg in noodle soup. Soooo tasty.
    As for charismastic but forgetful friends…I have had one of them since I was 11. She was always very hippyish and different and didn’t care about being different and everyone who didn’t care about being cool wanted to be her friend. She’s difficult to get hold of and unreliable BUT when I do catch up with her she is so happy and loving and full of the hugs and the unloading of her deepest thoughts. I accepted long ago that she’s not best friend material but that’s okay, it’s good to have lots of different sorts of friends, right?

    Like

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