I was screwing around with my blog settings the other day; I can never find what I’m looking for in these settings. I’m like U2; I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.
But remember when we were all quilt squares when we commented? Well. YOU were. I used my baby picture. The other day, I found a way to change our quilt squares to monsters. That was exciting for like a day, but then I wanted to change them to something else. It took 48 days to find where to do that. After wandering in the desert of WordPress for 40 years, I finally changed our little icons to … what even are they? But while I was searching, while I was in the desert and passed Jim Morrison doing peyote, I saw a button that said, “Advertise on WordPress!”
I can advertise on WordPress? I used to advertise using the Amazon, but they were such jerks with their rules that I said forget it. Plus also I don’t like how they treat their workers.
So I clicked on “Advertise with WordPress” or whatever. When I look at this blog I can’t see any ads, or maybe sometimes I see, like, an ad for WordPress itself. “WordPress. We don’t treat our workers like dung. WordPress.”
Anyway, that’s why there are ads here now, to answer the 29493249492 emails I’ve been getting about it. If it actually makes me any money I’ll keep it up because I’m as uncertain about my future as you are. So if you can just sort of tolerate them, I would appreciate it. I’d say if you can just tolerate them during this difficult time, but if I see that phrase one more time Ima plotz.
Also I have no idea where to go back to turn the ads off. So.
Meanwhile, back at the millhouse, who is sick of thinking her sore throat is the end of her? Is it me? I’ve literally had a sore throat every single day since March, and it’s either psychosomatic or allergies, or I have the longest mildest case of COVID ever. It’s like COVID .09.
I keep thinking I should take a Claritin, but I’m one of those people who takes any allergy pill at all and 10 minutes after dips herself in honey and rolls herself in golden feathers and walks about the neighborhood chanting in tongues. I act like they used to act on Dragnet when the hippies smoked the pot.
Oh! Speaking of tongues!
This weekend I went to my flower bed in my front yard because out of nowhere it was COVERED in the filmy purple weeds that are annoying me and destroying my whole Flower Lewk® I’ve got going. So on Sunday I pulled on a pair of actual pants, like workout pants as opposed to pajamas, and started pulling those filmy weeds.
I was about 15 minutes in when my actual pants and I hunkered over to a new section, pulled, and?
Tee, don’t read this. Although Tee already saw this on Facebook and got the vapors then.
You know, the whole time I’ve lived in North Carolina, which is almost 13 years now, this hasn’t happened to me. It’s very snakey here and I’ve feared it. I fear the writher. I’ve been on walks where people say, “Oh, look, there’s a snake” but I’ve never discovered one on my own.
It was weird, cause for a split second I sort of said, Oh, there’s a snake slithering at me, all calm like. And then I screeched, like a normal person, and leaped out of my flower bed and into the road, also like a normal person. Then I sort of gyrated about, screeching manfully, and flailed my arms about, panicked, because I was convinced there were 40 snakes hanging off me like I was Medusa. Eventually, I sort of sat on my car, shaking, watching the snake, who was sort of S-shapedly sitting on a garden rock, staring at me.
watssssss wif laydeeee? [forked flick]
Anyway, very scientific research reveals it was a garter snake, and I’m not even getting married, and frankly if I’m going to be terrified and flail about in my yard, I’d have preferred it was a cobra, which is what Ima stick with when I repeat this tale to my grandchildren.
Many years ago, I broke up with someone on September 7. I’m good with dates. Anyway, on September 21, I was at the bar I went to regularly, and in he walked with a new woman. I had the same reaction to them as I did the snake. My first reaction was, Hunh. There’s the love of my life with another woman. Then a few moments later I threw my wallet at his head.
I’m not saying it was my finest moment. I’m just saying it sometimes takes me a moment to react.
I must go now, as I must work. I wrote this ages ago, got distracted by work, then realized I hadn’t finished this or hit “publish.”
I leave you with a gift from Marvin, who clearly is looking through his old things because he has sent me 394923094923 texts of images of old letters, and things he stole from our landlord’s junk pile in the shared garage and so on.
Here is the song Marvin wrote and recorded for my mother’s 60th birthday. She’d asked him to write her a song.