I have an exciting fact for you.
The Dragonfly Inn from The Gilmore Girls…
…is the Waltons’ house.
Taaa DAAAAA! June’s blog. Come for the cooking and geometry tips. Stay for the TV trivia.
Website. Shit. Not blog. Son of a…
You know, it wouldn’t have killed Olivia Walton to put in a flower box or two. Spruce the place up. Not to mention grass. Did I ever tell you that when my Uncle Leo first started dating my Aunt Kathy, he thought our family was rich because we had grass?
He aimed high.
I remember my friend Saundra thought someone was rich because she shopped at Pier One.
I once amused my father and aunt by saying only rich people had Kleenex. The rest of us used toilet paper. The common folk. This has resulted in my aunt sending me cases of Kleenex through the years. So I can live large. I really never do buy Kleenex for myself, unless I have one of those colds where you need Kleenex 45 times a day.
My mother thought only rich people had clear measuring cups. My mother has had the same Tupperware, opaque measuring cup that’s half melted near her iron since I was a toddler. She finally went to town and got a clear measuring cup not long ago, for kitchen usage.
It annoys me when people use “usage” when “use” will do just fine. Also “utilize.” When I’m copyediting something at work written by one of the businessy people and not one of the, you know, writers, I note the business folk are big fans of “utilize.”
Anyway, what sorts of stupid things do you think are rich-people things? And I don’t even mean rich. I mean people in the next bracket from you.
Is there anyone here who considers him or herself rich? I do on those rare occasions I find money in a pocket. I never even HAVE real money anymore. So if I find a folded five in a pocket, WOOOOO! I’m rich!
Did you ever take this test to see if you’re in the middle class? I did. I’m in the middle. Now that I made Ned tell me how much he makes, I checked and he’s in the upper. This is probably why he never told me a real number till I pressed. Because I’d almost immediately mention it on my blog.
I gotta go. I went to my headache study class last night and they stressed the importance of enough sleep, so I went to bed early and then when the alarm went off I slept through the first three snoozes. So now I’ve screwed myself up with my phony eight hours of sleep, which ended up being eight and a half because hello, snooze.
I hate my alarm. I mean, I like how it looks–it’s a round metal retro one, because I read once that digital alarms next to your head eventually kill you.
But the snooze is FIVE FREAKING MINUTES, which is annoying. And go ahead. Just try to find one that looks cute like this with a decent snooze feature. GO AHEAD I DARE YOU.
Pay no attention to Steely Dan’s ridiculous feets.
Speaking of SD, given that Edsel was in the bedroom with me all night with the door shut,
Do you have any idea how long I just tried to download After the Lovin’ by Englebert Humperdink? Finally I just made it a link. I gotta ask my contact at WordPress what’s up.
ANYWAY, given that I was in there with Edsel and you’ve now called Animal Control or whatever, Ima go out on a limb and guess that Steely Dan wanted to see something outside, here.
All right, now I could not be later for work. Is a shower 100% necessary?
In his grip,