Indian June

Yesterday was very international. We had a lunch made for us by the Spanish team that was delicious. Then last night, Fleeta and I went to the free fitness thing downtown, where they had Masala Bhangra. I'd never heard of it, either, and dearly wished for Indian food once they said it, as well. We're on the same page.

Anyway, they played music like this, and it was all Indian Bollywood-style stuff, and oh my god, that was fun.

 

You know I've been doing Tracy Chapman like a manwoman ever since the universe said I had cankles, but this made me sore anyway.

Speaking of which, I totally caught two of my coworkers making fun of my cankle debaucle behind my back. I saw it completely by accident, but you never know who isn't your real friend, man. I didn't say a word, but I tucked it away. It's been duly noted.

Fleeta, who I heart, was an excellent person to go to anything like a bizarre Indian-dancing class, by the way. She was totally into it, as she is most things. The real classes are in Winston-Salem, where all the fun is.

IMG_4004Oh, I didn't mean to put in this picture of Ned seeing God, or perhaps the baseball game behind us at dinner the other night. I have to shrink the photos down to nothing before I can put them on here, because Typepad. So now I can't see then at all when I select them to upload.

IMG_4005Here we go. My cankles and I headed to the Chinese restaurant after, because what complements a good workout better than Chinese? I called Ned from there. "I'm getting Chinese food. I'm calling to see if you want any."

Ned paused. I knew he'd be appalled. "Chinese food is very bad for you, June," he said. "Get me some Szechuan chicken and an egg roll." I love it when Ned is bad.

We ate outside, where I'd been reading Candace Bergen's memoir. "What would you title your memoir?" Ned asked me.

"The Sun Also Annoys Me. You?"

"I don't know. Maybe just Fuck You." Which would be a hilarious title. But I mentioned it should REALLY be I Got Your Memoir, Right Here, because Ned has always got my whatever right there on a constant basis. "I got your banana, right here."

Whatever with Ned.

I have to go, but what would your memoir be? Tell all.

96 thoughts on “Indian June

  1. My memoir title would be Never Pack the Bleu Cheese Next to Your Pillow, and Other Lessons I’ve Learned the Hard Way.

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  2. I came back to read everyone’s titles and thought of three more for mine.
    “That’s not the smoke alarm, it’s our dinner bell”
    Subtitle : Things my kids say
    “How to Make a Mess”
    Subtitle : And other recipes (a cookbook)
    “Well, that was awkward”

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  3. My memoir title: Bite My Ass, Motherfucker. How I Learned to Love My Hatred of Humanity

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  4. I find it ironic that you are doing all these extra workouts to try to please idiots and strangers that you wouldn’t give a second thought about any other day of the week instead of embracing the fact that so many people including Ned love you the way you are and you seem to be missing that point…

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  5. “What I SHOULD Have Said Was…”
    “Whatever Stops The Noise”
    Both could be my “new husband/new dad” advice books…

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  6. The book I will write one day will be titled, “Y’all Ain’t Gonna Believe This Shit!”
    I want Indian food too. After watching that work-out, I am famished.

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  7. Memoir of a Working-Class Girl Flanked by Cornfields
    Subtitle: Classist Pricks Can Eat Me

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  8. Do they not realize you can have all of your readers attack them verbally in comments? Do they not understand our collective meanness and bitchiness???

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  9. I have a t-shirt with a picture of 2 guys on mopeds and the caption reads: “Dope Heads on Mopeds. Look out! We’re loaded!”
    It’s a crowd pleaser every time I wear it.

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  10. My memoir would be titled: “CRY ME A RIVER… AND THEN MAYBE I’LL BELIEVE YA” 🙂

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  11. and the name of my band, if I ever get over being tone deaf – “Fat People on Mopeds”

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  12. So in my 2nd or 3rd grade report card Teacher said I was “bossy” to the other children. Now who’s surprised.

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  13. I’ll make sure the title will be large and in a threatening font (whatever that might be).

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  14. My neighbor is an IT Guy. His favorite saying would make a good memoir title “I don’t like any of you. You’re just a computer to me.”
    Any time someone at work tries to engage him in conversation he says that. He doesn’t want to interact with them at all! Which is weird because he is a really funny, outgoing guy. His workplace must be some kind of awful!

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  15. “Out of the Frying Pan into Another Frying Pan.” Or more likely the thing I say most often, “I’m Wearing the Wrong Glasses.” But now I must wear the right glasses, Geeky Girl, so I can read your book. Holding it so everyone who comes near me can see the title.

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  16. Women can be so catty. Especially when jealous or resentful.
    When I make fun of you I do it to your face.
    Personally, I don’t see the cankle issue you are obsessing over.
    143295343 people can say our legs (or whatever else) are fabulous and if one or two people say something negative, that is all we hear. Never mind the hundreds who say otherwise. I do it all the time. We probably shouldn’t, but I guess that is human nature.

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  17. “I Hate People: True Stories from the Grocery Store”
    Wait. You accidentally saw co-workers making fun of you? I take it they weren’t laughing, “Oh, even in her misery and sadness SHE WAS HYSTERICAL with the cankles post!!!”? They were making fun of you? They need to grow up. It’s amazing to me how many adults need to grow the fuck up (see my book title above, it’s not just in the grocery).

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  18. “Take a Tip From Me: My 50 Years as Generous Tipper” (That’s really my only consistent virtue.)

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  19. Mine would be “Leave Me Alone, I’m Reading” subtitled “No Seriously, Leave Me The Fuck Alone”

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  20. “Yes Maam, You Do Have to Plug Your Printer In for It To Work. And Other Tales from an IT Analyst”.
    You see, I am an IT Senior Systems Staff Programmer Analyst or something similar. Not sure what my company calls me these days but I code, test, meet with people to find out what they want the system to do. Over and over and over again. And then I get the phone calls and emails. There is a whole group of people who are supposed to take these phone calls and help the folks out who use the systems and they are supposed to weed out the simple questions like is the machine turned on, is your password working, things like that. But they never do. So I get the calls at 2:00am and it is someone who hasn’t plugged in their printer or has reset their password and can’t remember it or has a simple error message like ‘you forgot to enter the area code on the phone number’ and I want to scream. But being a true Southern girl, I say ‘well bless your heart’ and see if I can help them.

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  21. I feel the same about short jokes, to a lesser extent blonde jokes. But, if you really want to flirt with disaster, tell a short, blonde joke.
    People have very limited imaginations sometimes.
    Hmmm. Maybe that’s my title: Limited Imaginations, subtitled People who Make Lame, Cliched, Hurtful Comments

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  22. These titles are cracking me up! And I am cranky because I spent 1 1/2 hours trying to do payroll after being locked out of the system, only to finally discover I could have just done a password reset. So thanks for the cheering up!
    I think my memoir would be titled “I Used To Be Crazy, But We’re a Whole Lot Better Now.”
    Although I don’t actually have multiple personality disorder. I am crazy, just in a less interesting way.

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  23. More “tall” titles from my own experiences:
    The Weather Up Here Is Fine (Will This Conversation Be Limited To Cliches?)
    No, I Don’t Play Basketball (Thanks For Asking, Dumbass)

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  24. Something about the words The Cankle Debaucle, makes me think that should be the title of your book, June. It sounds like an awesome spy novel.
    That sucks that your co-irkers were making fun behind your back. That’s always so hurtful. Bitches! I hope it wasn’t any of the cute Alexes who you like so much.

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  25. “To Hell With it All” seems like it would fit perfectly as my title. Chapter would include, “Well, Shit.” and “I Hate Laundry.”

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  26. Carol in Mpls, maybe you should co-write your book with my niece. The family always jokes that she started talking at 1, and she hasn’t stopped yet! (She’s 36.)

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  27. “This is Not What I Dreamt My Life Would Be.” Subtitled: “My 25-year marriage to a gay man, and then I managed to kill the next one.”

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  28. I am dying over these titles. And failing miserably at coming up with anything nearly as clever.

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  29. A direct quote from my mom (God rest her soul) as she surveyed my house…
    “How Can You Live Like This?”

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  30. These titles are CRACKING ME UP!
    I’m still thinking of one for my own memoir, but no doubt, my husband’s would be: I Sweat the Small Stuff!
    I have a friend with 7 kids. She told me a long time ago that if she could sum up her life in one word, it would be: sticky.

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  31. Oh I saw a saying on a shirt that I could definitely use for my memoir:
    “I don’t like morning people. Or morning. Or people.”
    Sums me up just right.

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  32. Mine would be something stupid like That’s Me in a Nutshell. I really don’t know what it would be. But my husband’s, on the other hand, would definitely be “I Wasn’t Paying Attention” because he says that all the time. And in fact does that all the time. Annoys.

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  33. “I’m Tall? I Had No Idea, Dumbass, Or 163 Ways to Irk A Girl of a Certain Height”

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  34. These titles are all so great, I can never come up with anything good. Can’t wait to see more!

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  35. Oh, Eleven Miles From Boring.
    I’ve known this ever since we had to go to an awful conference in Clackamas, Oregon. To get to Clackamas from Portland, you come to a fork in the road that directs you to the hometown of Tanya Harding or Boring. It’s where I would leave my schizophrenic grandmother’s wig that she wore like a baseball cap.
    And here’s a hint. If posed with the question? Pick the fork to Boring.

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  36. Love your shoes and your matching nail polish. Can I just say my arms hurt from watching that video?
    My title would be “Maybe I’ll Be a Neatnik in My Next Life”.

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  37. Mine would be “I Chose to Laugh Rather than Cry.” Subtitled, “Okay, I totally curled up in a ball and cried. Send Ice Cream.”

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  38. Seeing as I’m sitting here at work with a pulled muscle in my back, bursitis in my shoulder, a 2nd degree burn on my hand, and my wrist in a brace, my memoir would definitely be titled “I Need Constant Supervision”.

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  39. WAIT. JUST WAIT. Chinese food is BAD for you? WTF? It’s all vegetables. GodDAMNit.

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  40. WAIT. JUST WAIT. Chinese food is BAD for you? WTF? It’s all vegetables. GodDAMNit.

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  41. WAIT. JUST WAIT. Chinese food is BAD for you? WTF? It’s all vegetables. GodDAMNit.

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  42. “I Suck at Titles.” For real. I can give you content all the live-long day, but ask me to slap a fascinating headline on it? Forget it. I imagine the same would hold true for my memoirs. Also, love that you’ve been doing Tracy like a manwoman, because that is one hell of a visual. The chicken marsala dance/workout looks fun; does it require coordination or is it like zumba where I’m always a beat or two behind? Oh, there’s a good memoir title: “One Beat Behind.”

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  43. My memoir would be “Growing up Fat” I even have a few chaptsters started such as Losing your Fat Virginity,Gym class Fatty, Wedding Day Fat, you get the picture.

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