Call me Ishmael, M’lady

Today at work, we're having a photo sesh, because we're revamping the company website. They've asked me to be one of the people posing for said pictures, and in my mind I had us phonily leaning over the conference room table, looking over a document–something I never, ever do in real life. But it turns out the shots are going to be more casual than that, which has not lessened my obsession over looking flawless, anyway.

I mean, I know I'm in there because I'm the token old chick, but I want to be the "WOW! They hire hot old chicks!" old chick. Last night for Ned's birthday, we went to the baseball game (I begged him to go. BAH!) and when Ned got in line for beer, I said, "I'm getting a bottled water. Photo sesh."

Then he got a brat, and I was all, "Not me. Photo sesh." It's like he's dating fat Kate Moss without the cocaine.

Speaking of Ned's birthday, and what else HAVE I spoken of as of late, he was vehement that I not get him anything for his birthday because we're allegedly moving, and need all the cash we can get. So the only thing I got him was his childhood version of Moby Dick, with which he has been obsessed ever since he couldn't find it at his mom's house over Mother's Day weekend.

I got the brilliant idea to get him this book, and emailed his nice brother to say what I was doing, and could I send him some book covers and he could identify which was the real book. His brother cheerfully complied, until 384838483822 book covers later, and then guess who became over me. Oh, did I look for that book. I even got my friend Dot on the case, as she is good at this sort of thing.

Finally, I told Ned what I'd wanted to get him and couldn't. I sent him five covers just as an example, and he wrote back: "JUNE! That very first cover is it! You found my book!"

Sigh. His brother remembered a photo from INSIDE the book, not the cover.

Anyway, I got him that, and then I felt bad that that's all I got him, so night before last I went to the liquor store and got him some gin. Ned is forever saying he loves a gin and tonic in the summer, and yet I never see him drink gin and tonic. I always feel slightly seedy going to the liquor store, and worry that the salespeople think I hit a different liquor store every night to keep my gin habit going.

I also got him tonic and a lime, and then yesterday at lunch I stampeded to Rite Aid to get a gift bag, and I also picked up some…girl medication. I have a …girl issue right now, that Grace Kelly would not tell you about so I won't, but let's just say if I could sit on one of those bristle aquarium cleaners and spin around for an hour, I'd be happy.

JunehairEnclosed please find a photo of the woman ahead of me in line, who had total June hair.

The point is, I got to the counter with my gift bag and my girl meds, and when the woman was ringing them up, I heard myself say, "I'm not giving this away as a gift."

What is wrong with me? "I wasn't even thinking that, ma'am," said the sales clerk, who is as over me as Ned's brother and they ought to form a support group.

At the end of the workday yesterday, Ned emailed me. "I really feel like having some gin tonight. On my way home, I'm going to the liquor store."

Son of a…

For TWO AND A HALF YEARS of knowing Ned, he's NOT ONCE said he was going to the liquor store to buy gin, and the VERY DAY I have it for him, what does he say?

"DON'T GET GIN!" I emailed back.

"Oh! Okay. Well, what if I get lime and tonic, then?"

SON OF A…

"So now you've ruined ALL the surprises I had for you," I told him. "Just don't stop off and get a 16-year-old prostitute on the way home, either."

The only thing Ned did not blow was the fact that I got him an apple crumble pie, and a fine card.

NedspecsIt reads: "Your reading glasses are sexy." And here he is, wearing my diamond-y ones. His actual reading glasses ARE sexy, though.

NeddickNed said I absolutely found the right Moby Dick, which by the way is often hyphenated, a thing that annoys me not at all. At the end of the night, I am happy to tell you Ned read the book to me, and wow, is Moby not hyphen Dick ever a fascinating book.

We had a gin and tonic on my deck, and by "we" I mean I watched Ned have a gin and tonic on my deck. Photo sesh.

Neddog
Then we screamed off to the baseball game, where I think we won, I'm not sure. There was an extremely hot young black woman in front of us, with a really thin, hot young body, and she had on acid wash elastic-waist jeans that believe it or not she looked bangin' in. She was doing a whole ironic mom jean thing. "If I wore those, I'd look mentally disabled," I told Ned.

Anyway, much of my evening was spent watching her, and looking at her thumb ring, and her cute white toeanail polish, and basically wishing I were a hot 19-year-old black girl. Guess what I am not.

So that sums up Ned's birthday, which was a fine event, and for 20 days he is my much-older manfriend. Then next month we'll be the same age again. I am hoping that there is some screwup in the system and I turn 19 instead of 49. And also black. I need to get over the black girl. But you didn't see her. You'd have died, too.

Okay. June Moss, out.

78 thoughts on “Call me Ishmael, M’lady

  1. Just tuned in today to see what the vag is going on with June and peeps. Have already worked in my mom’s yard and house and am back home tackling my closet. The organization got a little out of whack and have to get the shirts back in order by color and sleeve size. All you organization minded peeps know what I’m talking about. Seems my husband helped out by putting my clothes away…

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  2. Have you finished the sesh where you mimed your own self at work? Did they make you wear black and white stripes?
    Even in black and white stripes and that silly mime face you’d still have it goin’ on. They chose you, June, because you’re hot and you’re over 16.
    Hope Charlie is feeling better.

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  3. Can we call Ned’s manliness a vagabond? Think about it. Yes, I am still on this.
    HAPPY WEEKEND to the 16%! Although it seems the percentage is more now.

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  4. Thank God you finally showed up, Just P. Vambrosia! Spell check said Cambodia. Ass has been laughed off.

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  5. Late to the party. Sounds like Ned had the perfect birthday, thanks to you. Kudos on finding his favorite childhood book.
    All this talk of June’s fruit salad has me envisioning her as an inverted Carmen Miranda if you know what I mean.

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  6. A couple of months ago my brother turned 50 (he’s WAY older than me). I went to CVS and stocked up on old man stuff as a gag gift and felt the need to tell the cashier that none of it was for me and why I was buying every old person thing in the store all at once. My cashier cracked up harder with each thing I placed on the counter, told me payback is going to be hell, etc. My cashier was awesome. He didn’t act like I was insane at all.
    I’ve been dealing with an ongoing problem with the water department and my bill for the past few months. The guy who works there and is helping me is named Ishmael. We have a major flirtation thing going on by phone.

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  7. Vajournal. VAGCANO!!!
    I just read this week if you drink two alma seltzers, twice a day, it will cure a girl problem quickly.

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  8. It was before my time, so now I feel I’ve missed out! Still. . . glad this isn’t a health blog anymore and I’m seriously craving that brownie cookie now. Geez. . .

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  9. I USED to be June GardenSalad, back when this was an actual health blog!!! Speaking of which, I just ate a brownie cookie. It's a cookie with a brownie in the center. Swear.

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  10. Speaking of a little salad. . .
    Once upon a time in the way olden days when there were such things as typesetters and I was one, I was setting type for a drugstore ad. I mistyped vinegar and water for a douche product to vinegar and oil. My very serious and stern old-man boss came in and threw the draft down and yelled, “Are we selling a product or making a salad!!!”
    You can be June GardenSalad

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  11. *spin. not pin although pinning your lady bits might sound like it would help just not on Pinterest

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  12. Priobiotics are the ticket. Take them don’t pin on them. Also Yogurt and NO SUGAR.

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  13. Vagcano! Vajourna! A serving of fruit! I have been up all night long with a work problem and I’m so tired and punchy right now and just snorted and laughed out loud at my desk. I may just have to lie down and die if you guys come up with any more.

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  14. Are you hoping to catch a largemouth bass in the stream? Between the fruit and the fish, it sounds like dinner is making itself.

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  15. I know, I know BUT I advise you AND Ned check with your doctors. This is a “shared” problem even tho the guys don’t suffer.

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  16. I’ve used apple and white. Go with the apple, that way you’re getting a serving of fruit, too. For the sesh.

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  17. It'll be all Exorcist in there for a minute. "IT BURNNNNNS!" I mean, I have raspberry at home, and white, and apple cider. Which should I go with when I return to my abode o' yeast?

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  18. When I was just out of high school I worked at a drug store, was working one afternoon and looked up and the father of one of my best friend’s was in line with his sole purchase – a jumbo box of Trojans. 😉

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  19. If you’re gonna do it where other people might hear you, stuff a rag in your mouth. It burns, but just briefly. It’s worth it, though.

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  20. Why do you always have to run into someone when your cart is full of FDS and Nair? The day you're buying virtuous apples and skim milk, no one sees you. [Disclaimer: I have never once held apples and skim milk in my cart.]

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  21. Externally applied vinegar. Will burn like hell for a sec, then relief. Your welcome.

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  22. Oh my lady parts are itch itch itching just reading this. A vajournal! Ha!
    I was in line at the grocery store buying all manner of tampons (my girls were all home and apparently in sync. Or just scamming me for free tampons.) Anyway, I looked up and saw one of my students was bagging groceries. “Oh, just keep your big mouth shut” I told myself. “Say nothing! This is perfectly normal activity!” But NOOOOO! I was COMPELLED to blurt out “they aren’t for me! None of them are for me! Not even MY BRAND!!” I always take the mildly awkward and roll it right over the hill into full on mortification. Why? Because I am an idiot.
    Happy Birthday one day late to M’lady! Now I want nothing more than a gin and tonic. Which I just typed “gina and tonic”. And if you’re gonna ready “MobynohypenDick” that seems like a good version to choose – short and to the point!

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  23. If we only knew the name of June’s employer, we could look up the website after its new design. But I really don’t want to know – I feel stalkerish enough most of the time, living vicariously through June.
    Ned’s birthday sounds lovely. As much as I like me a sporting event, I think I like the people watching at said event even more.

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  24. I adore great gift givers. Guess that’s my love language.
    I can’t believe you’re dating an older man. geez.

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  25. I am so glad that you had a fun celebration yesterday. My husband always ruins my gifts too. HOW the hell do they do that? Hate.
    Vajournal…M’Dick….and so much in the actual post that I would just be rewriting it.
    Lovely post, June!

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  26. “If I wore those, I’d look mentally disabled,”–snort!
    I wore my first pair of elastic waist, up to my armpits shorts last night and I felt like I had careened over the hill on a luge run straight to the grave. I used to be a shapely, nearly middle aged hotty with a waist. Two months after getting my O’s removed and I look like a middle aged Weeble made of jello.

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  27. And my best friend in college had a lady problem like that and her way of describing it was saying that if she could take a vegetable peeler to her lady parts it MIGHT make it feel better.
    I still think about that when I am peeling vegetables.

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  28. How IS it that those young girls can wear the acid wash mom jeans and look so hot?! Gawd. It reminds me of when I was in high school in the late 90s and got my first pair of flared out jeans. My mom told this whole story of how SHE wore bell-bottom jeans just like my jeans and I remember snootily saying, “Mom these are flared jeans, not bell-bottom jeans.” Brat.

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  29. This–“but let’s just say if I could sit on one of those bristle aquarium cleaners and spin around for an hour, I’d be happy”–M’Lady, made me snort and laugh outloud at work. As did Paula’s M’Dick. Now people are walking by, looking to see if I am okay or a mentally damaged mom in her acid wash jeans.

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  30. Aquarium bristle cleaner! Photo sesh! Mentally disabled in acid washed mom jeans!
    Glad Ned had a happy birthday!
    I do the same thing. I will be buying something, doing something and feel the need to make some comment regarding whatever it is I’m doing. The person almost always looks at me like I’m mentally disabled. I will have the thought, tell myself NOT to say anything and then my mouth codwallops my brain and takes over. Why do we do that?

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  31. Glad you enjoyed the game, June. Also, you are a good giver of gifts. Enjoy your photo sesh, and please post pictures.

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  32. Top Ten posts ever. I am dead. Aquarium bristle cleaner. Spin around for an hour. I just can’t. No words.

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  33. I am not giving this as a gift. Dead I am.
    Glad that you were not behaving like Carrie on the eve of her photo sesh. (Remember?) You will be bangin’.

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