And another thing: If you tell me to put my hands together I will literally just put them together unmoving and think I’m hilarious.

Here’s Howard Stern’s problem: He got too emotionally healthy and he lost his edge. He used to be unhappily married, and he lashed out at every other celebrity, and he was generally angry and he was hilarious. Then he started going to therapy four days a week—and I imagine he went to a really good one there in New York—with all his riches. He got a divorce, met his second wife nine months later, and got happy. Now he’s all rescuing cats and seeming serene, and people hate it.

The good news is you don’t have any of that here. If anything, I get less healthy as time marches by. So, yay! Vague hilarity ensues.

I’m happy for Howard Stern, though, actually. I have genuine affection for him. And don’t be me and hate him if you’ve never listened to him at length. I once didn’t talk to some friends of mine for years—years!!—after we fought at a bar once about Howard Stern. I’d never listened to him. I’d seen him on those pay-per-view shows he used to do, or maybe I saw him once on E. Whatever it was, I didn’t listen to him until I moved to LA and he was just part of morning radio.

Then I loved him. Still do. The end.

The entire time I’ve been talking to you, my computer has BOUNCED things up and down at me, and SLID messages on the side. Do you want to update? How ’bout now? Now?

Hey, update?

Ahoy, updatey!

Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up. You just literally updated last week. You have an addiction to updating. Leave me out of it.

Anyway, weekend. Lemme scroll through my photos (WANT TO UPDATE PHOTOS!?!?!) and see what the heck I did.

This sums it up.

We have a farmer and his wife, who takes a nurse but the cheese stands alone, come to work in their pickup every Friday, and they park under the shade of that tree where I found that baby squirrel that one time. Anyway, they sell their wares, and this week they had vaguely suggestive gourds.

“That looks like a porpoise jumping out of the waves,” said my boss, who is a nicer-minded person than I.

I worked until 900 forty-five and six-thousand o’clock in the p.m., because I got decks at the last minute. Decks are presentations, and sometimes they have intricate charts where I have to look at every number and every tiny word and spellcheck every name. They’ll send me one that’s 80 pages. “Can you do it in an hour? It should be pretty clean.”

Here’s how to make a copy editor phallic her gourd. I STILL HAVE TO READ EVERY WORD, NO MATTER HOW HYGIENIC YOU THINK IT IS. It doesn’t make it go faster, really, anyway, if there are few mistakes. That’s not what takes time. LOOKING AT EVERY WORD AND NUMBER AND PIECE OF PUNCTUATION DOES.

Anyway, the Poet was also working late, and we were the only people in the building yet we literally never spoke until I got ready to leave and bellowed, “GOODBYE, CITY LIFE!” at her, and since she is 96 like me, she got it.

On Saturday morning, I had a date. I think it went well, but other than a wrap-up text afterward, I’ve heard nothing. This is how it’s gone all year. Almost every person has said, “Would you like to do this again?” and I say yes, sometimes thinking Oh, I’ll just fake my death later to get out of this but sometimes meaning it. Then inevitably each person, to the letter, has not asked me out again.

WHY ASK IF I’D LIKE TO DO THIS AGAIN? Or maybe the question was — what’s that word? Reciprocal? Redundant? Maybe I do still have a concussion.

Anyway, maybe the whole thought really is, “Would you like to do this again? Because I wouldn’t.”

Then afterward, after possibly successful but probably not date, I took self to the Judy Garland movie, which was sad, and in which I’ve taken down a notch my abhorration of Brigitte Nielson Jones Diary or whatever her name is who starred in it.

Concussion? Table for one?

Why do we all dislike her, old lemon-face who stars in it? I don’t know one person who doesn’t go, “Ugh,” when you say her name. Is it all the work? The el plastico worko? That makes us dislike everyone. As do fake Spanish words.

Speaking of all the work, what the fuck did Courtney Cox do to herself?

Anyway, she did a good job, Jennifer Jones Diary or whatever her name is who starred as Judy Garland. She really did. And POOR JUDY GARLAND. Someone needed to #TotoToo the fuck outta that Louis B. Mayer.

On Sunday, at some godawful-early time like 11:30, Marty and Kayeee came over to do two things: Put in my new Firestick that my father got me, and take me to the Greek. See. That’s like that movie with Name Brand or whatever his name is.

June? Well, she’s 5’6″, concussed, about 118 pounds.

(I always stick with 118. I have big bones, god.)

Anyway, the Firestick went in without a problem, because Marty Martin knows all things technical, and then we headed merrily to the fest, which was another firestick altogether.

I’ve gone to the Greek festival in years past, and it’s always this last weekend in September, and I remember feeling a little breezy there, maybe wishing I’d brought a wrap to said thing.

Not this year. Jesus Hades Christ. All month it’s been June’s-118-pound-figure hot, it’s been haute, it’s been steaming. IT’S BEEN ANNOYING. I look at the weather, the 10-day forecast, and every time I’m all,

OH, COME ON.

Because once September got here I thought 90-degree days would stop. Sure, I know we’re gonna have 80-degree days here, but NINETY?

Now? IT WILL BE 90 IN OCTOBER. At this point I’m just furious.

“To be fair, it’s probably this hot in Greece,” I said, as we made our way to the haute festival. This year, they moved it from the pavement of the church to the grassy part, and there was shade, and that helped.

I felt sorry for the people manning the coffee booth. Talk about being your Maytag repairman.

And here’s the thing about the Greek festival. Here’s what they need to discuss in their festival wrap-up. We come to eat the Greek food, maybe buy a nice evil-eye necklace or two, and?

AND?

We want to hear the music. THE MUSIC. Not the guy who runs the music booth. Oh my god, every minute with that guy.

“OPAaaaaa! Let’s hear it for the junior dancers!”

“OPPPPAAAAAA! Everyone put your hands together for…”

Oh my god just play music and dance. Stop with the talking. The LOUD talking. Stop.

“We should play the ‘opa!’ drinking game, I said to MM and K, as we were all downing water like we were in the tropics because we were.

At one point, I took a nice selfie of Kaye and me, and is it a selfie if there are two people in the photo? Anyway, the guy behind us in line for Greek donuts photo bombed us, and I love him.

When we left, the church sign of the lot where we parked read 95 degrees.

COME ON.

Anyway, then it got into the evening hours, and I got groceries and waited for my foster kitten to go home. God, we’ll miss her.

Iris won’t. THE REST OF US WILL.

Maybe no one ever wants a second date with me because of the cat lady thing. Fuck ’em.

Okay, I gotta go. I must head to work, and even though I washed by hair before 7:00 and it’s currently after 8:00, my hair is still soaking wet. THANKS, HUMIDITY.

Heatedly,
June

P.S. OPA!!!!

39 thoughts on “And another thing: If you tell me to put my hands together I will literally just put them together unmoving and think I’m hilarious.

  1. It would indeed be hilarious if you put your hands together and didn’t move them. I hope I get a chance to steal that move sometime. Happy trails, Snowflake!

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  2. I loved Howard then, I love Howard now. I have to admit I have matured, as he has, and I love all
    of his show but I really love his interviews. When I hear some of the older shows I cringe sometimes.

    Howard makes me giggle daily and so do you, Joooon.

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  3. I hate people who scream talk to amp up a crowd. Ugh. But your photo bomber gave you such a nice genuine smile. We had a photo bomber at Disney World last year (the photographer said “everyone hug” and he jumped into the group hug) and while the photographer had no sense of humor and didn’t snap the picture until the guy moved, that photo was my favorite because we were all genuinely smiling/laughing. And also, that was no porpoise jumping in the waves. Dying.

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  4. I love Greek food, except the lamb. I know, but I just don’t. White meat chicken for me, but the way they season it and the sauces they use…yum.
    I wish I had friends to go do fun things with. Or maybe not. Still hot here in Phoenix, but definitely cooling down. At least we can go outside in the evenings now.
    Glad you’re back to blogging. Reading you is one of my few pleasures.

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  5. Love Howard, used to listen regularly. He sure was cranky back then. I kinda like the more mellow version. Love Snowflake, too. We’re down to only 2 cats, might have to fill the void. Opaa!

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  6. There was a Greek Festival this weekend here too but I did not go because with the damn out of control diabeetus there is no baklava for me and no oozo, which ,yes, I love it, and licorice all sorts, etc etc. and no feta cheese for my lactose intolerance. Soon it will just be me and my permanent IV and IV pole with all of these damn food restrictions.
    It is way too warm for Fall here as well. Ima be pissed if my sixtieth birthday week in Cape May with my best friend is this warm. Fuck you, climate change.
    I finally had my date on Saturday. We went to the movies and got along great, ended up necking like teenagers through out parts of It Part 2. Am I an old youngish widow slut? We had spent about eleven hours on the phone by the time we met, hugged when we met ,and were an hour early for the movie, which we spent talking, thighs touching on the bench. We were both pretty damn happy. I bought him treats for his dogs and he bought me flowers which we exchanged in the parking lot. We talked later that night. I texted him last night, I had been out looking at houses with my sister. He was in bed sick, said he felt fluish. I was on a cloud yesterday, am trying to be cautiously optimistic right now. I hope this becomes a bigger something. It was also the eight month anniversary of my husband’s death on the date. It was the first one I didn’t spend crying all day.

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  7. Nice post. I don’t care much for Howard either. Why didn’t you tell Nicole – that the kitty is Ned’s? LOL Just struck my funny bone.
    Dating – just do what you like and Mr. Wonderful will come along…. ya,,,that’s what they say, you know? Sigh.

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  8. Loved this post. A quick look at 80 pages. Yeah. Last Friday it was 102° on one of those bank thermometer thingies. I’m so over this hot weather, I’m ready to be wearing fall clothes sweaters, jeans, wool socks oh, I’ll just keep dreaming. Rain, we desperately need rain with cool temperatures. Sweet little kitty will be missed. I loved the photo bomb.

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  9. Also, I really love the fabric on your green chair. I see paisleys in there, my fav. I have my grandmother’s chair, which is very similar to yours, and am thinking about a new look for it. Need to find a color and pattern that coordinate with my grey and white cat. Yours looks fab with ginger and white.

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  10. We have Greek congregations in *both* Mpls & St Paul, so twice the Festival Fun. Went to the one here in Mpls a few weeks ago, really close by, and had a lovely time. Weather was perfecto, sunny, warm, not hot. Backside of the church faces down a hill, overlooking one of the many lakes here in Mpls, and has a lovely terrace to boot.

    Bought a new, cool bracelet. The food was yummy (gyros, fries, coffee, awesome homemade baklava by the church ladies) and even got to see the lamb carcass being sliced up while waiting in line for our food. I’ve been to Greece, love Greek food, the music and dancing was fun, a good day overall. Very recent sadness to find out my most favorite Greek restaurant has closed. They had the best patio, flowers, music, and food. Will be hard to replace.

    Also, saw Downton Abbey movie, and quite enjoyed. Costumes, good. Music, good. Story, good.

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  11. I keep going through my Fall clothes just hoping that any day NC will miraculously switch to cooler weather but I know I am wasting my time. Even Thanksgiving Day is always 80 degrees here. Oy. Or whatever that saying is.

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  12. Rhetorical. That’s the word.

    Wait. Isn’t the foster kitty now Marvin’s? Or have I got my fuzzy white kittens confused?

    Have you seen the app WTForecast? It seems like you might like it.

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    • Oooo, oh my god. I’d never gotten them before, but M & K were into them. They were like donut holes, but very light, and they were covered in honey. I feel like honey makes them Greek.

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  13. Touching post, June. The Greek Festival here is the 2nd weekend in September and, like magic, it is always the last weekend of 90 degrees. But this year, nooooooo. The spell is broken and the 90s continue. The guy in the coffee booth usually is as lonely as the MayTag repair man but the lady in the dip-your-hands-in-this-hot-wax booth was nearly comatose. Oh my phallic gourd it is still 90 day after day, but the nights are getting cool. Glad Mighty Whitey has a home to go to.

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  14. That gourd. Oh my! I sent a picture to my two college boys of my middle finger – I was not flipping them off but I cut myself significantly enough to need 5 stitches in the fleshy part of the top of my finger. Anyway, I was trying to share my misery with them but I did not notice until one of them called me ALARMED that my hand with the other fingers tucked in and the middle finger sticking up and a row of stitches at the end of finger made for a very phallic photo. I howled laughing. The other son never called to check in and say WTF to me. he probably thinks I have lost my marbles.

    I have heard Howard, not in years, but not a fan.

    How do you not strangle someone who claims 80 pages is clean and should be a quick read?

    I cannot stand the heat anymore in my advanced age – unless there is a body of water less than 10 feet away that I can submerge in as needed.

    I CANNOT believe men do not call you for a second date. Maybe they feel threatened by your stronger sense of humor? I mean, really! I got my friend Diane to read your blog, which she does regularly. She is not the commenting type, but still -she is a fan. (she tells me how much she loves your blog and then follows it quickly with ‘Oh I mean your blog is my favorite’ – cute but I know she feels obligated to say that). She and I have discussed how nuts it is that someone has not found you and your 80 cats and held on for dear life. I say- if this went well, he’s calling you back. Keep us posted.

    This post was awesome!

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      • Ha! She is happily married. Thought of one more thing (I have a colonoscopy today so I have lots of time to read posts since I am not eating. I guess I usually spend more time eating than I realized. Well, also not babysitting today. Cannot wait to be done with the test so I can eat again, notice I didn’t say I am excited to babysit today. Time to find a new line of work but not reading 800 pages. Yuck). I too cannot stand Renee Z with her tight I-cannot-smile face. What is the deal?

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  15. So much funny so early in the day! I had to take husband in to drop off his car at 8:00am. Why so early when we are both retired? We will miss the Snowflake girl and her cute face. Hope she has a happy life wherever she lands. It is in the upper 90s here this week again with heat index over 100. I’m hoping we have more than 2 days of fall like we did last year.

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  16. About as Greek as I get is a toga party I went to in high school. I ate some kind of meat off a huge bone that they told me was bear meat. Apparently it was a rotten cow leg or some other God awful thing because I was sick as a dog the next day. Or it could’ve been the alcohol. Who knows. How is Iris doing? We will miss that little Snowflake .

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  17. Lovely post, June.

    I just came back from a trip to New England where I’m sad to say I never got a chance to wear the fleece I packed. Who the fudge wants to wear short sleeves in September while looking at fall leaves? Sorry, I’m still a little bit salty over this ridiculous weather.

    That Snowflake is one gorgeous kitten. You did a wonderful job with her.

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  18. I call those “ussies”. Someone the other day posted a photo of herself with another person CLEARLY taken by a third party… like just a normal photo. And declared “then we took a selfie!” I was annoyed on so many levels. It’s a selfie if you took it YOURSELF. Oh my god.

    Also too Renee Zellweger. I’ve never hated her exactly but now when I see her in anything I spend the whole movie trying to figure out why her face looks so… off. Like when you see someone from high scool and they VAGUELY resemble their high school self, but it’s just not quite right. ANYWAY. We saw Downton Abbey: The Movie. I recommend. It was, as my husband said, a very relaxing two hours.

    Lovely post lovely June!

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    • Also too re: Howard Stern. He once made fun of his wife’s miscarriage. I can laugh at a lot of inappropriate things, but I have never forgiven him for that. I don’t think she did either.

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  19. It will be 96 degrees here in Nashville today. Last year I was swatting mosquitoes as I handed out Halloween candy. This should not be. Also, I love the guy photo bombing you. What else are you going to do in the donut line?

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  20. Lovely post, Coot.

    I remember my first September I lived in NC way back in the last century. It was hot and muggy and I questioned why we moved there instead of say Maine or Minnesota. Then we had a huge snow around Christmas and I was ready to move to Boca Rotan with Blanche and the girls.

    Sorry, but Howard Stern annoys and always has.

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  21. And why is it that inevitably, there will be a woman with a sweater around her shoulders because it will be cool in the evening? I’m from Phoenix, AZ, now living in TX. If I cant be in AZ, then I demand Fall. It’s looking like a small chance of Fall by Halloween. Oy! Lovely post, lovely June!

    CommandoBarbie

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  22. Fun fact! (Sorry Beverly.) I have never been to a Greek festival OR even eaten Greek food. I can’t even pronounce most Greek foods. I remove feta cheese from salads and other side dishes. I can, however, make a mean toga out of a bed sheet. (Years later, years and years and years later, my son and his friend were going to a toga party and I whipped them into their togas in record time. It’s a skill you don’t forget. They were suitably impressed that this old bag could actually make a toga, and secure it so it stayed togaed the entire night.

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