June in June

Yesterday, I got an overwhelming pudding craving.

I was at the store, because I was out of everything. I was, for example, clean outta batteries, and the kitchen clock had said five minutes to 3:00 all weekend. I even saw it die, the clock, and how often does that ever happen? I’d been doing my horrific high-intensity interval training, and I’d been staring longingly at the second hand, willing it to move through my one minute of jumping jacks more quickly, when boop. Froze. On five minutes and five seconds to 3:00. Then all weekend, I kept saying,

Hey, what time is it? Oh, it’s five minutes and five seconds to 3:00.

Hey, what time is it? Oh, it’s about five minutes and five seconds to 3:00.

Hey, why did I wake up at five minutes and five seconds to 3:00?

You can’t eat yet, Edsel, it’s only five minutes and five seconds to 3:00.

Hey, what time is it? It’s…


I was also clean out of pet food other than cans of kittens. Edsel had had a can of kitten food for breakfast, as had all the cats, which pleased most of them mightily.

Not Lily.

That big-ass cat does not like a can of food. Iris acts like it’s Christmas morning when I get out a can, and Steely Dan. Well, you can imagine. But Lily?

lilleee not fan. extreeeemlee pickee eeter. obvs.

Whenever I take a photo, I see things on the floor that I don’t see with my naked ashamed eye. I STILL don’t see that object on the floor in real life that I see in this photo.


Oh, and the reason I was out of everything, clean out of everything, is on Friday I had my identity stolen, and who would want to be me? Go pretend to be someone else.

This stolen moment was a thing the bank was apparently not gonna tell me about till I called them, or maybe they’d planned to call me at 3:00.

I noticed a charge for 99 cents, to Spotify, and if there’s anything y’all are sick of hearing about, it’s my endless Spotify purchases. So I called the bank and they said sure enough, they’d already noted my account had been compromised, and they’d frozen my card, a thing they thought maybe I just wouldn’t notice or whatever.

“We’re sending you a new card. In five to seven business days.”

This they tell me on a Friday evening of a holiday weekend.

And you know, I’d had trouble that day already, trying to purchase my exciting meds, and I just ended up writing a check. Which OH MY GOD, now that I’m thinking about it, this entire live-off-the-land weekend I just had, where I went with the clock frozen in time and the dog eating cat food all unnatural-like, I COULD HAVE GONE TO THE STORE AND WRITTEN A CHECK.

Jesus. I never thought of it. You have no idea how I metered out that pet food this weekend. I was like a drug dealer, with the scale and the baggies and the propensity to wear a robe at all hours.

So, finally, yesterday I went to the bank and got real cash, then schlepped to the grocery store so my poor pets could eat their proper food. I tugged giant food bags into the cart, stampeded over to the batteries, although I’m certain at this point that big hand had fallen deeply for number 11 back in my kitchen, and as I was headed out, I saw the pudding.

Do you like how it’s taken me 87 paragraphs to get back to the pudding?

It was there, glistening jiggily, in the salad bar, and what I like about myself is how my eyes glaze over the carrots, blanche at the idea of peas, and lovingly land on pudding. That stubborn scale. I think it’s broken. The springs, I think.

So I got some. I got some goddamn pudding. Put it in the clear salad container WITH NO SHAME, and I really shoulda at least had shame. Then I schlepped everything home, and the whole drive home I kept thinking, Man, I wish I could eat the pudding right now. Why didn’t I get a spoon so I could eat it right away?

I live a mile from the grocery store.

Finally, finally, I was home, and I lugged in those giant bags, threw the pudding in the refridge, opened the giant stupid bags and poured cat food in the cat food bin, dog food in the dog food bin, fed everyone, recycled the bags, opened the goddamn batteries and got the clock working and


it was time for pudding. Pudding time! And the livin’s easy.

So I got a spoon, opened the refridge door, and?

The pudding fell out of the fridge and plopped onto the floor upside-down.

And that about sums up my past few weeks. Oh, and also, I’m back. Heyyyyyy.

Don’t even ask.



149 thoughts on “June in June

  1. Paula and PJ are cracking me up with the car preparedness wars. It’s good to have you back, June. I can’t believe Lily does not like the canned cat food – did she at least go for the pudding?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. So happy to have you back, June! (I even stepped out of lurkdom to comment today, as it is such a momentous occasion.)


  3. Yay! I am so happy. And yet so sorry for the demise of the pudding.
    I have pens, post it notes, toilet paper, trash bags, first aid kit, maps, and 2 umbrellas.
    Also I have a bag of things I hand out to my homeless people.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Yay! And I love Lily’s picture. As for the pudding, totally expected Edsel to eat it. And I would have been eating it off the floor, like Joey Tribiani.


  5. I was SO sad when you said you were through posting because of the negativity you were receiving. I’m delighted it was a phase. I love starting my day reading your posts. Your writing style is a tonic in a toxic world


  6. I can hardly type this with all the confetti at the Welcome-Back-June-Please-Don’t-Leave-Us-Again-We-Love-Your-Take-On-The-World-Oh-And-How-We- Missed-Your-Hilarity-And-Fuck-The-Trolls parade!


  7. June, sorry someone tried to steal your identity—as if anyone else could handle it! They were simply desperate to share your life in some way when they couldn’t read about it.
    I was so desperate myself that my life began to resemble yours. When the cable guy took my pliers, Titi & Minka got at my lunch bag, poison ivy took over my neck, right then I knew. Thank you for taking up your Book again.


    1. I could deal with the missing pliers, the dog-eaten lunch, but not the poison ivy! I’m itching just thinking about it and am so sorry for you. Hope it heals soon.

      Also, bye, bye, pudding. Brilliant.


      1. Thank you, and you can stop itching now: I’ve been told it is NOT poison ivy, it’s either allergy to a new soap or stress. Stress? Anyone who isn’t stressed, raise your hand.


  8. I had to go check the pantry halfway through the comments to see if we had any boxes of Jell-O pudding. Yes! Two boxes of chocolate–very dusty, expired 17 JUN 2015. But so happy that June is back in June!

    From Thornton Wilder’s The Matchmaker:
    Barnaby: Cornelius, let’s arrange a signal for you to give me when an adventure’s really going on. For instance, Cornelius, you say…uh…uh…PUDDING; you say PUDDING to me as if it’s an adventure we’re in.

    Thanks for the signal–I really missed your adventures!


    1. Please make the pudding and post it on this site.
      Does anyone else at all remember a short-lived Muppety summer program with space aliens? The baby alien was obsessed with pudding? And at the end of the show tried to hypnotize the entire viewing audience: “You will send pudding . . . Send pudding to meeee . . .”
      Tell me I didn’t imagine this.


  9. June,
    You’re back! You’re back! Etc…. ( I couldn’t figure out how to leave my message on this thread, so I posted it on an earlier one. )


  10. MTM, so sorry about the poison ivy and the rest. Nice that your dogs’ names match your initials. As if it were…Meant.
    deb–love Edsel’s cigarette!


  11. i have nothing fancy to say. just here to say i’m glad you’re back. i did enjoy your more frequent facebook posts though, so it’s not like you were completely gone.


  12. I’m the happiest person in Greymouth, New Zealand at the moment, after finding a new blog post from June. I haven’t even read the post yet, just wanted to comment on how happy I am! Thank you so much for writing June


  13. So glad you’re back. Really. And I probably would have tried to salvage some of that pudding. Because I have even less shame than you do (says the woman who just found a bag of 7-month-old leftover Halloween candy in her daughter’s room and helped herself).


  14. MTM, I never saw it but Googled “muppet baby loves pudding” and got Aliens in the Family:
    “Aliens in the Family was a half-hour sitcom that aired on ABC in 1996. The show used puppets made by Jim Henson’s Creature Shop.
    The show focused on the Brodys, a mixed family consisting of Earthling Doug, his alien wife Cookie, and the children from their respective previous marriages. Doug had a daughter, Heather, and a son, Adam. Cookie had a daughter named Snizzy, a teenage son named Spit, and a baby son named Bobut, who harbored plans for intergalactic domination and an affinity for pudding. Rounding out the cast was Sally, Bobut’s hapless nanny.” There seem to be videos.
    I still want pudding. Looking forward to more Joon soon.


  15. Sorry about your pudding. I have some chocolate pudding in the fridge. Hang on and I’ll email you a bowl of it.
    Glad you’re back. I came here every morning hoping for a post and lo this morning there was one.


  16. Oh, you’re back. I’m soOo eXcItEd…! (That was me jumping.) Welcome back. You look so pretty.


  17. GODDAMMIT! All y’all left me waiting at the wrong bust stop. Had no idea Joob returned June 1. I feel like the boy in the plastic bubble here.


  18. So, I’m a stalker, but have been quietly doing that for years and I’m very glad you’re back. I think you look fabulous, so carry on making us all live vicariously in the south!


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