Lily is giving me the silent treatment. I like how SHE can go away for FIFTY-TWO days, without so much as a warning or a post card, but I go away for three measly days and I'm in the doghouse. Iris ran to the door to greet me, flopped and rolled and purred and followed me around with her tail in the air, still purring.
I got rid of the dogs. They've gotten too old. (You can watch them on daycare camera till I get them at lunch.) (Did I already show you the picture Molly took of all of us at work watching my dogs on the daycare camera?)
I'd been at my desk, MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS (although I did, in fact, send everyone the link to the webcam) and everyone started screaming, "JUNE! Your dog's peeing on camera!" Sure enough, Lu looked right at the camera and dropped a…stream. Why aren't there any pee euphemisms?
Anyway, the point is, saw my Aunt Mary while I was home. She was on the, you know, palm part of the mitten that is Michigan, with her husband's family, so we met in the middle. When I was a kid, my father used to travel to Hawaii for work, and also to Owosso, Michigan, for work. I used to say, "When I get big, I'm going to live in either Hawaii or Owosso." My grandmother trotted me out to tell just everyone that. I'd be all, "WHAT? God."
I had no idea the difference in glamor.
Anyway, we met in Owosso, thinking we were hilarious with that. It was good to see Aunt Mary. She is the daughter of the grandmother I'm turning into, and pretty much every medical woe she has, I know Ima get. So it's nice to see my future.
If you've followed my blog for some time, you'll be stunned to hear that after that, we shopped. We shopped in mighty Owosso. This store had cute shoes, though, and I'm regretting the red Mary Janes I did not buy.
Dude. When's the last time you saw one of these?
We also found one of those really fabulous dime stores that time forgot. "If they have paint-by-numbers, I'm buying one," I announced. They did, and I did. "Your grandmother LOVED paint by numbers," Aunt Mary told me.
She did not. Did she? Goddammit.
"Yes, I'd like eight pieces of the seafoam," said Aunt Mary, "and four pieces of the dark-chocolate almonds."
"Do you have some sort of disorder?" I asked her. Why so precise? I had them fill a bag with dark-chocolate peanuts, almonds, nonpareils and dark-chocolate malted milk balls, all of which my mother ate in one swoop, like she was Tallulah, as soon as I got home.
At some point during my visit, I perused old photos and was able to find for you some of the terrifying art of my childhood. I know you're all obsessed with that wallpaper, but I'd put that bitch up in a MILLISECOND if I could locate it. I love a loud gay man wallpaper. Anyway, the clown, of the Terrify Baby June clowns.
Dude. That fucking charcoal drawing, and the fact that mom never left that spot. That drawing moved on to our house that we moved to, where those disturbing characters glared at me at the end of the hall RIGHT OUTSIDE MY ROOM. What anxiety disorder? And please note Dali's Last Depressing Supper, as well, over to the right. That went in my parents' room, where I'd lie on their bed looking at it, motionless and drooling, like Danny on The Shining.
I really, really wish I could find vampire clown for you. I know I've told you about vampire clown a hundred times. I shoulda perused the photos further. But I was pressed for time.
Even scarier, my 1982 hormones. That's Cardinal, my high school boyfriend. And a Le Sac bag. And ADIDAS tennis shoes. Oooo, and an Izod shirt. All these clues, you'd never need me to tell you the year.
Before my plane took off yesterday, my Aunt Kathy and my Uncle Bill joined us at this diner that used to be City Dairy, where my friend Dave worked our entire high school years. His name tag read City Dairy Dave. I got over that, ever.
Anyway, here's how my family works. "Want to go to lunch?" Mom asked me. "I'm not really hungry. But I'll watch you eat." "Want to go to lunch?" we walked over to Aunt Kathy's, two houses away from mom's now. "Oh, I'm not really hungry."
Ten minutes later, we were all having banana splits for lunch. This is how "not hungry" goes in my family. Then someone makes a joke about the dryer shrinking our clothes. I really wish I could have just blatantly shown you the rest of the crowd in there, because apparently auditions for the new Fellini film were nearby. Holy cats.
After that, I got to the airport really early, because I was worried about how crazy it'd be. We walked in, and all you saw was a hapless woman behind the counter, and some Muzak playing. You could have NAPPED in there, so quiet was it. I got home completely without incident.
I gotta go shut the fake windows on my walls. Tend to my paint geraniums. Talk at you.