[whinny]

Last night started the summer movies that you know I like to go to, at my old theater.

I saw, for the first time, Rebecca, a film I assumed I’d seen before because I took a Hitchcock class in college, which was harder than it sounds. Anyway, I had not. But what I discovered was that Young Frankenstein definitely got its inspiration for Frau Bleuger from this movie.

[whinny!]

In fact, I kept leaning over to Ned and whinnying any time the maid spoke, a thing that did not beleaguer Ned in the slightest. When our host, a guy who, I don’t know, manages the theater? Owns it? Whatever his role, any time I see him in public it’s like a celebrity sighting, kind of like how that one time my Aunt Mary saw a QVC host and squealed.

My point is this. Despite having three teensy kittens who have fortunately graduated to being fed every FIVE hours now (freedom!) and despite getting work emails that began at 6:08 a.m. (why are people up?) I am here telling you about Sunday cause I said I would. Oh, and I didn’t finish my thought above, what a shock. The theater’s host or owner or whomever always gives a little speech before the movie, and any time he says there’s no smoking in the theater, I dramatically suck the last of my imaginary cigarette and stomp it out with my heel.

“That never stops being funny,” said Ned, who was about to be whinnied at 407 times in the next two hours.

Anyway, Sunday. Not to be confused with sundae because I am fat.

I had my tattoo party on Sunday. My neighbor, A, told me about it originally, and I have been texting with the tattoo guy, and truth be told, I did not get what I asked for, but I am coming around to sort of liking it. Here is what I asked for:

I wanted an iris, because Iris. The idea was I wanted that stem, a thin stem, to go up the side of my wrist, and then up near the top would be a teensy iris.

Here is what I got.

Yeah, I know. I kept saying, “I want it teensy.” I think tattoo people don’t like to do tiny, delicate tattoos. I remember a place in Seattle saying if you want a tattoo that’s smaller than a dime, forget it. I mean, isn’t that up to us? Charge us a minimum. Anyway, there we have it.

After I got my large tattoo, I asked Ned if he wanted to go get ice cream out in the country. I realize I hang around Ned too much, but ice cream. Didn’t I just refuse to say sundae, above? This is why I am fat. I forget. I forget I’m fat.

Here is what happened. You have to drive up to order ice cream now, rather than walk into the place, and it’s arranged in an inconvenient way, where the menu isn’t seeable until it’s your turn, and then you have to panickedly read it while the person is standing there to take your order. The flavors can differ. Luckily for us all, Ned always gets peach in a regular cone

NOT

A

WAFFLE

CONE!!! This is vv important to Ned. If they had a kale cone he’d get that. Motherfucker’s getting ICE CREAM, but oh, watch the sugar in that cone.

I always want something with nuts in it. But that day, all they had was butter pecan and I get that constantly, so here’s what I did. I asked for two kid-sized scoops, not that they are the size of a child, in a cup. I asked for double chocolate and coffee flavors.

What they gave us was one cone (NOT WAFFLE) for Ned and TWO CUPS for me. “Can you hold mine while I park?” asked Ned, who forgot I am not an Indian goddess with 8 arms.

By the time we’d parked, the ice cream had melted everywhere, and there was no catching up to it, and apparently Sunday was a day that no one understood what I meant when I said I wanted anything.

“I’m never coming back here again,” I said, in my covered-in-detritus-Jackie-Kennedy-in-Dallas ensemble,

It wasn’t just there. No. I had ice cream all the way to the bottom of my pants. It was absurd. If I ever go there again—AND I’M NOT—I will demand they don’t fill it to the top. GEEEEEEZUS.

I have some stuff from the dollar store called Awesome, and it all came out, miraculously.

I have to go. I wish people wouldn’t send work email before 8 or after 5. It gives me the willies, and I know there are mellow people for whom this is not an issue, but for me if ruins every moment because I feel like I should be interrupting my not-at-work life to answer work things.

I’ll talk to you later, about bandannas, and by now this had better be the best bandana story in the history of all bandana stories. Also, I can’t get on Facebook so you’ll just have to come looking for posts or subscribe or something. They want me to get some sort of app to get on the app that is Facebook. Answer: No.

Rebelliously,
June [whinny!]

33 thoughts on “[whinny]

  1. Rebecca!! My favorite book and movie, or in the top 5. I have seen the Charles Dance version. Mrs Danvers was a name I am still considering for a future pet.
    Bandannas here at Walmart by the straw purses snd socks I believe AND dollar store!
    The author gave the protagonist no name . (Back to Rebecca).
    Lovely post!

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  2. This makes me wonder which shop you went to. It’s so far off what you wanted! I’d have refused to pay for it. Didn’t the artist provide a drawing to approve and make a stencil? If you like it, all’s well that ends well. If not, you’re well within your rights to get a more experienced artist at that shop to fix it.

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    1. Thanks. That’s nice of you to say, seeing as I have regerts. Have you seen that meme, where the person has a “No Regerts” tattoo?

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  3. It is the worst when ice cream drips everywhere.

    I also fire off emails when I think of things, but there is no expectation for immediacy. I just want it off my plate. When I do not want to work, I close my computer–or if I want to be on my computer, I just quit/close my email tab. I also MUTE my chime for my email. That chime used to stress me out! I felt like I had to read stuff immediately, and it would distract me from anything and everything.

    Lovely post, lovely June!

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  4. Even though the tattoo is not what you wanted it’s there for sweet Iris. It is larger.
    The ice cream down the front of your shirt made me laugh out loud. I do the same thing all the time, that’s why I have a bottle of Dawn in my laundry room.
    The emails would drive me crazy too.
    Tee

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  5. The tattoo makes me smile, because I picture the tattooist channeling sweet Iris. Apparently his eyesight isn’t stellar, either😎 Apologies for the emoji!

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  6. Yeah, that tat doesn’t look anything like what you asked for, does it.

    Questions: What weight-loss diet allows ice cream? Need to know more about this. Also, what happened to your gray straightened hair? It was pretty cool.

    Exes seldom stay friends. It’s great that you and Ted have been able to.

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    1. When one gets one’s hair done at a salon, the salon person, who is experienced at such a thing, straightens your hair. It is not really possible to do it one’s self, and curly people pretty much all hate being told how much better it looks after a salon professional spent two hours straightening it for you and charging you $150 to do it.

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      1. Oh! I apologize! I thought you were pleased at how it looked. I didn’t say it looked better, though, just that it looked pretty great. Why do it if it’s too expensive and you’re annoyed when people compliment you?

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        1. I do it because I’m getting the color done. I had it lightened and then I had toner put on. When you’re done at the hairdresser, they offer to blow it out for you as an additional service. I’m not really annoyed by the compliments, it’s just sort of a trope all of us who are curly-haired laugh about. We get it a lot.

          >

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  7. Your Iris(kitty) was not just any ordinary Iris. She was Eyeriss. Look for her on your arm, she is there.
    The ice cream on your top looks like Chinese characters…I be it means goddammit.

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  8. I like your tat! I’ve been thinking of getting one, but I know I’ll never be able to decide on what I want. I’ll have to settle for the ones from my breast cancer radiation treatments. I wish we had a theater that showed old movies.I just watched The Women for the 100th or so time.

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  9. I used to have a boss who would send emails after 8 pm that would just aggravate/anger everyone. Then I would be mad all night. We had a huge meeting and she promised not to send emails at night. Well, she was a big liar and we quit reading her emails after hours.

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  10. I read Rebecca – as in a dramatic reading with a drama coach – in about 1952! I loved it so much and I still have the very yellowed copy somewhere. I acted in every play and the nuns wanted me to be a “star” – but then we moved away, my mom died suddenly and – well, I guess I had my own drama. I would love to see that movie – I have not ever seen it.
    The ice cream drips – so me with everything!

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  11. After the double mastectomy, I never drip on my bosoms any longer. Two silver linings..no bra and no drips! I must confess I giggled at the thought of that ice cream being everywhere.

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  12. I suppose it wouldn’t be cool to have an auto- response that says. “I check my work emails from 8-6 weekdays. If you need a quicker reply please text: 555-xxx-xxxx.”

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    1. My work has an automatic sorry response added to every email which says

      ” Our organisation works flexibly, and I am sending this email at a time that suits me. Only read and reply at a time that suits you”

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  13. I saw Rebecca in college on their Old Movie on Wednesday night study break and loved it–still do. I read the book as a teen when I was home sick with a bad cold. It was kind of a perfect thing to read; feeling headachy and blah fed into the dread and paranoia. My mom apparently read that book when she was in the hospital recovering from childbirth, and when I was nine or ten I used to pull the old paperback off our shelf and read the last couple of pages, having no idea what was going on but mesmerized by the image of Maxim winding Rebecca’s long hair around his neck (not a spoiler, really!). I Rebeccommend book and movie highly. [whinny]

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    1. Please don’t feel stupid. In Young Frankenstein, every time the someone says creepy Frau Blucher’s name, horses whinny in terror. The creepy housekeeper in Rebecca is a similar type. Please see both movies at once (well, not simultaneously); they will enrich your life!

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  14. I am dying. DYING I tell you. That drip on the shirt is my 100% of the time. And why does the KID’S SIZED SCOOP need to come in a thimble? Like kids don’t already have enough trouble with the ice cream drips. Oy. Gimme a TINY SCOOP in a REGULAR SIZED CUP.

    This ice cream place that I love changed their sundae cups from a cup that was wider at the top (which makes perfect sense) to one that is just straight sided. So first dip in the cup and everything just FLOWS down the outside. Which, if we sit outside at the table is FINE – let ‘er drip. But the last THREE TIMES we’ve been there? Pouring rain. So there I am, in the CAR, drip, drip dripping fudge sauce and ice cream everwhere. And cursing myself for not just ordering the cone – NOT THE WAFFLE CONE.

    Rebecca is a movie? Who knew!

    Can’t wait for that bandanna story!

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  15. I occasionally send emails to my staff in the evenings, but I am super clear with them that it’s strictly for my own convenience to get it out, and that I have NO expectation that they will read or respond outside of business hours. I hadn’t really thought that this would bother some folks. I’m going to keep that in mind.
    That is definitely not a teensy iris, but it is lovely. I don’t have any tattoos, so I’m slow on the uptake, but it just occurred to me that if you get a tattoo that you didn’t ask for, there’s kind of no recourse. I’m assuming the dude (and I’m being sexist here) just shrugs his shoulders and murmurs “enhh, it’s fine.”
    June, you have no idea how much I delight in your out-and-about adventures and the hilarious things that happen to you. On pins and needles for bandana story. hee!

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  16. I would have been exhausted if I lived your Sunday! Looking forward to the best bandanna story ever!

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  17. I like the tattoo you chose better too. Why not listen to the customer, you d*#khead tattoo artist? You may be an artist but who is paying you and just who is going to wear it on their body forever? OY.

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  18. That’s definitely more than a little larger than you asked for. I hope you grow to love it. I read the “Jackie in Dallas” then scrolled to the picture and a little gasp came out of my mouth. You are SO bad, but so funny

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  19. I read Daphne du Maurier’s novel ‘Rebecca’ when i was a teen. It made a huge impact on me then. I think that I need to reread it. I don’t think that I have seen the movie, but I would imagine it was terrific. Daphne du Maurier and Hitchcock! Lucky you getting to see it.

    Ice cream, schmice cream, we don’t all cry for ice cream.

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    1. I read ‘Rebecca’ when I was too young to get what was going on with the doctors. It was much more interesting later when I reread it later and understood that stuff.
      I’d still like to know her lovely and unusual name. Buffy? Ernestine?

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  20. I loved the look of the one you wanted.

    On another note, I can’t wear a nice shirt anymore because I am always dripping and dropping things on any top I wear. I need to look for Awesome, because Shout doesn’t do it.

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