IT’S OUR SONG DAY!
Let’s say you just got here, which you haven’t. Several years ago, my boss, fmr., who still works at my work and who I just photographed last week…
used to get into not-work-related discussions with me that went on way too long, and one of them was about the song Ode to Billy Jo.
The thing we discussed was what the girl in the song, along with her good friend Billy Jo McAllister, threw off the Tallahatchie Bridge. I blogged about this, of course, because my boss, fmr., thought they threw
off said bridge, and that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life and it needed to be told. This started a giant discussion in the comments, and ever since we dutifully acknowledge the 3rd of June as being another sleepy, dusty Delta day.
The end. Pass the biscuits, please.
Meanwhile, the weekend happened.
We had a work happy hour on Friday, but then we also had a tornado warning, and at like 4:30 we got sideways hail, and naturally The Poet and I rushed to the window to watch it because we’re both deeply intelligent people. The window we went to had this bike desk near it, where you can literally work and bike at the same time. Naturally, I got on it and sang the Wicked Witch theme during our sideways hail.
Sad truth: Miss Gulch is younger than me, here.
Anyway, I abstained from the happy hour and had my own rain hour at home.
On Saturday, I went down to the mill near me that’s allegedly being renovated, but all I see is, “We’re still tearing shit down” and no “We’re now building stuff up.” This worries me. It’s supposed to get all cute and trendy like the other mill near me. WHAT’S THE HOLDUP? Get cute!
Then I did things like get a mop, because mine was from the Dollar Store and broke, and then I, oh, just wandered past the Fiat dealership. I meandered by.
My car, the yellow MINI, was seven years old. I bought it used. I’m weeks away from a long road trip and this car has died on me once already. It worried me, the same way the constantly horrific-looking mill worries me.
Fiat has a 500 that’s made to look like a 1957 Fiat, and it comes in pale green and baby blue, TWO COLORS I ENJOY. My dealership had just one available in the retro colors, and I’d been emailing them all week and obsessing and finally I said, Oh, I’ll just wander IN there, and
now I own a Fiat. LOOK HOW CUTE. It’s a convertible, and I really didn’t want a convertible but see above re all they had. But I say I didn’t want a convertible and yet who has spent the whole weekend with her top off? Hrrrrr.
I feel bad for my MINI, because I didn’t give it a long goodbye. I just patted its roof and told it it’s been a good car.
That night, I very gingerly drove 20 miles to Lottie Blanco’s, where she was having a party. I did not take pictures because I was living in the moment. The party was on her screened-in porch and also her deck, with comfy chairs and a fire pit. The weather was just perfect–breezy and high 70s.
Somewhere around 10:00 I got so tired, I think because buying a whole new car is sort of draining and exciting all at once. So at 10:30 I drove gingerly home and fell into new-car sleep.
I announced to my mother that I had a new car, and she told me the pope drives a Fiat sometimes. Then this happened.
Someone give mom her own show, would ya?
On Sunday I stuck close to home with my Popemobile out front, although I did drive my new car to the grocery store and it turns out my car is teensy. No more helping you haul wood. I know you came to rely on me for that and I’m sorry.
I heard my first cicadas of the season and tried to videotape it for you because it’s 1988, but I think you can’t hear it. I assure you that soon you will be able to hear nothing BUT cicadas, but for now, they’re like someone who dabs a tasteful amount of Chanel No. 5 behind her ears. Subtle but unmistakable. Unless you watch this video, where they are totally mistakable.
I bid you adieu, but I do wonder: Girl, what’s happened to your appetite?
That’s from Ode to Billy Jo. Keep up.
Putting a frog down your back at the Carroll County picture show,