Last night I had a ridiculous dream. (Oh, good. Someone’s gonna describe their dream.) I dreamt I met a man and didn’t care for him at first, so when we first were introduced, I gave him my most sarcastic of smiles.
But then, somehow, I realized I really liked him, so then I had to go the rest of our lives pretending that was my real smile. So then when he asked me out, I had to smile like this…
When he proposed…
On our wedding day, coming down the aisle…
When we had our first child…
I have no idea why I dreamt that, or what the hell is wrong with me. Yes, I do realize I cannot bear children at my advanced age. What a shame. Been clamorin’.
Other than that it’s been a fairly uneventful weekend. Remember when I said I had freelance? Yeah. Didn’t. Now I have to freelance my ass clean off all week, and speaking of which, I did a new high-intensity interval training this weekend and now I cannot exactly what you call sit down. Exactly.
On Saturday, I ended up going to see some live music, as opposed to dead music, at this farm I like to go to that has, you know, live music sometimes. Mostly I like it there cause you can bring food, and there are always dogs running loose.
I wish I had the kind of dog where you could just say, Hey, jump in the car, there, Bandana, and let’s go to a concert, where you will galumph around mellowly and eventually sit in front of me while the music plays.
If I took Edsel, he’d have to leave halfway through with the vapors.
Also, yesterday, I had planned to take myself to the lavender festival nearby, and just as I was getting ready, Ned called.
I really have to stop hanging around with Ned.
“What are you doing today?”
“I’m headed to the lavender festival,” I announced, then invited him, thinking in a million years Ned would never go to a lavender festival. Lavender festivals are not invented for men. There’s not a straight man in America who’d wake up and say, “I’m gonna take in that lav fest today.” Men would shorten it to something awful like lav fest, seeing as they always have to nickname each other and so on. Just ask Hulk.
Naturally, Ned wasn’t, you know, showered yet or anything, as he is what you’d call a sleep-in type. And by the time he got here, I remembered I’d promised Faithful Reader Laurie that I’d take all her paint off her hands. She’s moving and has all kinds of spray paint and real paint and so on, and felt guilty taking them to the HAZ-MAT recycle place, I guess. I mean, I glean this cause she said, “I feel guilty throwing them out.”
As you may know, as I’ve alluded to it a few, like 903, times, I am painting my front door and its hardware, and also I’d like to paint back here, like you know just where I am when I say that. Oh, back there. Now everyone’s picturing me painting my nethers.
So we got the paint, and at that point I realized I was hangry, as it was early afternoon and I’d eaten precisely one cracker all day. Don’t ask. I was running about.
Oh, and also I’d been talking to Peg. She still isn’t back next door to me, she’s in Virginia, still. She’s not doing great, but she sounded like Peg. I told her I’d park my car in her drive occasionally, and she’s gonna mail me her key so I can turn lights on now and again. I tried to tell her you could get smart lights and an app, but she was having none of that, with her flip Wilson phone.
Anyway, we ended up eating breakfast at, you know, 1:45, and by the time we were done it was nearly 3:00 and the festival, which was 38 minutes away, ended at 4:00, and why things gotta end so fucking early?
And that is how Ned and I ended up at the movies, seeing some small independent thing, which means in general Ned got his way, as that is always what he wants to do on a Sunday. Of course, since it was a last-minute decision and all, we got there with five minutes to spare, and Ned would never go to a movie without purchasing popcorn, ever, and
Dear People in Line at the Concession Stand at the Movies:
Oh my fucking god, ORDER AND MOVE ON. In one line was a woman who had her popcorn already, but who was STANDING THERE asking QUESTIONS about the REST of the compelling menu. In the OTHER line, a man was TASTE-TESTING ALL THE GODDAMN BEER.
“Just go to our theater,” said Ned. “It’s theater 14.” So I dashed down there, and walked into a fully lit theater.
Now, as you know, Ned and I have a history of attending small, weird movies. It was something I did before I met him and ruined my own life, and it’s something I’ll do long after I’ve finally bludgeoned him with a sock full or oranges. So I’m used to having the theater to ourselves, but the show was set to begin and there I was in a bright theater.
“I wonder why the lights aren’t out. I wonder where Ned is. Were those annoying in-line people taking even longer?” Eventually, and here is where you truly adore me, eventually I looked up the theater’s number and called them. “Yes,” because you know I always start those kinds of calls with “yes,” “Yes, I’m in Theater 14, and it was set to start at 4:00 and it’s now 4:10.”
“You’re calling from the theater?”
Oh, why don’t you shut up. It’s a LONG WAY back to the lobby. “What movie are you going to see, ma’am?” asked the fucking TEENAGER on the phone.
“I Love You Both,” I said.
“…ma’am, that’s in Theater 13.”
Oh!
When I got over to the RIGHT PLACE, Ned was alone with his tub of popcorn. “I knew something was happening, but I also didn’t wanna know,” he said.
It was a cute little movie.
When I got home, I decided to put FR Laurie’s paint to good use. Since I can remember, we’ve had this candlestick. We had it in my house when I was “growing up.” I used it as a microphone to sing Bette Midler songs, as I have always been a gay man. About 10 years ago, Marvin and I dismantled it and brought it to LA from Michigan in our luggage. I remember my mother had 30 years’ worth of candle wax melted at the bottom, so I put it in the California sun and let it melt off.
And yesterday, that old, red, head shop candlestick became the candlestick of the Tin Man. And yes, I DO see where it’s red at the top. This was only after the first coat, so calm down.
I was quite pleased, and then I started looking around for what else I could paint. How would Edsel look spray painted white? Or maybe a bronze metallic Lily.
I felt just like a gang member with my can of spray paint. Do you think when gang members are tagging a wall that they do the “shake for one minute” rule they tell you to do on the back of the can, or are they all rebellious because gang members? They probably don’t call themselves “gang members.” “How do you do? I’m Bill, a gang member of the Crips gang.”
I have to go, and I have to start more paragraphs with “I.” There’s a 25-page deck they just told me via email that they want me to proof before 10:30, and that’s (a) possible and (2) relaxing.
I,
June
So glad Peg sounds like herself even if she’s not in the state.
Lovely post, pretty June.
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The smart gang members pre-shake before arrival.
So much funny this post my abs hurt from laughing. Thank you June.
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Many loves for this post: sweet dog at the farm. Ned’s pose at breakfast and/or lunch. Candlestick. Those green chairs at the “Red Cinemas”.
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Love that candlestick! It looks even better in silver (with a little red left over).
Looks like a nice concert venue at the farm. Cute pupper! I love sitting outdoors like that at concerts – especially on really nice summer nights. What the heck are those people doing standing up in the front? Are they at a standing table, or are they just being cockblockers, standing in front of everybody else so no one behind them can see?
I’m glad to hear that Peg is sounding like herself again. Go, Peg!
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So much to comment on, but all that’s been replaced by “became the candlestick of the Tin Man”.
Sorry for Peg’s bad health, but glad she still sounds like herself. I’m sure hearing from you cheered her right up.
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I agree Sadie, with the comment on Peg being cheered by June. It made Peg feel more like Peg of next door to Peg. Want more Peg? Peg Peg Peg.
Wonderful fun filled post June.
Oh listen …they are playing Tom Sawyer on my radio program.
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Sarcastic smile dream, dying!
Candlestick, want! It looks amazing silver, good job!
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Very cool candlestick. Cheers to Peg.
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This post was so damn satisfying I’m kicked back here with a smoke.
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That made me giggle like a moron.
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That made me giggle, too, PJ. :Sadly, I really am kicked back with a smoke. *hangs head*
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Oh! Those people who can’t decide at the counter and act like it is their LAST MEAL EVER!!! Oh I hate being in line behind those people. I mean, you have a menu in your hand and you have been scouring it for ages. And then, you FINALLY decide on a meat or fish or whatever and they ask you what 2 sides and it starts again. Can you tell it bugs me to be behind those folks? They need 2 lines. One for people who know what they want and one for those namby pamby folks who have to hold up the line for days deciding between mayo and mustard.
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Those namby pamby folks who have to hold up the line for days deciding between mayo and mustard.
Dead.
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It’s popcorn, candy and pickles, for the love of God! You already KNOW if you like raisinets or Milk Duds or Junior Mints. Milk Duds for me, all the way! Mixed in with the popcorn, thankyouverymuch.
And thank you for helping Laurie save the planet.
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That live music place looks like somewhere I would enjoy.
Until I move this Thursday, I live in a neighborhood full of gangs. I’ll see if I can stop one of the guys on the street and ask them if they shake their paint for two minutes. They won’t think I’m insane at all.
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I beg you to. I also request that you call him, “Mr. Gang Member.”
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“I’m sorry I ruined your Black Panther party.”
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Go for it, only you could do this. Ha! Maybe there will be a gang or two at the new house.
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Careful, though—”shake your paint” might mean something different to a gang member.
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Good luck with your move, Beverly. Assuming you survive your “Mr. Gang Member” conversation, that is.
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Loved every bite of this post. The candlestick is fantastic. And now NOWordPress will reject my comment. Again. Bastards.
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“How do you do? I’m Bill, a gang member of the Crips gang.”
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“Of the Coney Island Crips.”
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Clearly you have been to Coney Island.
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Excuse me, sir, but is your gang name Crips or Crisps because Crips doesn’t make sense to me.
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That’s how the gang pronounces Crisps. Kind of like how they say Fity Cent.
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Those look like the most comfortable movie seats ever! The movie better be a good one or I might fall asleep in them.
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My boss walked by my office and is wondering why I’m laughing like a loon in here.
That candlestick is fabulous – can’t wait to see where you display it in your lovely home!
I always enjoy getting behind the people perusing the McDonald’s menu. Really? You know what they serve!!
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Where did your mulch go?
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It’s an epidemic. Missing Mulch.
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Honey, that mulch was put in last summer.
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Re; live music. HATE, because it is rarely live music, as just live noise. I actually attended a Craft Beer and Food Truck Festival on Saturday, if you can even imagine me at such a venue, and if that wasn’t ridiculous enough, they also had Crafts, Live Music and a Kid Zone. Oh, and Port-a-Potties. There wasn’t one thing there that even remotely appealed to me. What was I thinking? Food from a TRUCK? With only port-a-potties? Shyeah, right. I had a lemonade. And that was sketchy.
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I love food from trucks. LOVE. IT. I’ll pass on the kid zones and port-a-potties with you though.
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Me too!!!
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I like live music where you can sit on a lawn in your chairs and spread out.
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Maybe the dream was an omen, except for the baby part. Loved the music venue. Oh my goodness, the snack DECISIONS that had to be made at the movie! There aren’t that many choices. I would have just walked off too. The paint brought the candle stand alive. You could pain Edzel right up and he could be like the painted people on the street in San Fransisco. All he will need is a bucket to collect the money. Sending Peg good wishes. You are a good neighbor.
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Ned must start thinking about his popcorn order on Thursday for a Sunday movie. With butter? Without? With a little butter? With all the butter? No salt added? Difficult, but at least he doesn’t stand at the counter backing up the line. I hope.
Flip Wilson phone – ha! – totally got it. And, yeah, you are a kid next to me. You could have referenced the Flipper phone and I would have gotten that, too.
I can barely eat at a friends house (and NEVER at a pot luck) let alone a food truck. Barfarama.
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Pot lucks…ugh. I am a retired elementary school teacher. One time for parent-teacher conference night our PTO parents brought in food (pot luck style ) for the teachers. Yep. Several teachers became sick from the food. I never ate at a pot luck again.
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Oh God, the pot luck. More a potty luck.
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“I’ll do long after I’ve finally bludgeoned him with a sock full or oranges”
so funny.
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Your sarcastic smile doesn’t make you look crazy at all. Nope, not at all.
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Bandana, the mellowly galumphing dog.
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It’s hours later and I’m still laughing at the smile dream and coveting the candlestick. That sounded just a little dirty, didn’t it?
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I have watched exactly one episode of Modern Family and it involved a trip to a lavender farm. There are a number of wineries that also have lavender farms. Now THAT’S a marketing concept I can get behind! Lavender is one of the only scents I can tolerate, so good thing I LOVE it! (Not to eat though, just to sniff.)
Wonderful candlestick and wonderful post, June!
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Maybe the Crisps took your mulch.
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I KNOW that theater!!! Dear God woman, it appears you live in my backyard.
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Some of my very favorite people were people who I couldn’t stand initially. I wonder what that says about me other than I’m a judgmental bitch.
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That candlestick (and I had no idea candlesticks could be – what? – 3 feet tall? Shouldn’t it be called something else, once it’s too tall to sit on the table for Shabbat?) — that candlestick looks like Lumiere in Beauty and the Beast. He has his hands on his hips.
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Tru Dat, K-Some.
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