It rain here all weekend, and yes, I said "it rain" on purpose. Tallulah has her own Facebook page (if you want to friend her, she's Tallulah Gardens. She hearts friends. Especially friends who have chicken), and one of my favorite status updates of hers was one where she kept asking to go outside, and asking and asking, and begging and asking, and when she finally got to the door she said, "Oh. It rain. Forget."
Which is totally what she does. She hates rain. Almost in direct proportion to how much she loves chicken. And yes, I do realize that I am the one who writes her status updates, and that I am hearting my own update in reality and that makes me an arsehole.
At any rate, when it rain, all she wants to do is lie around.
Do your dogs do this when it rain? She has the energy of Anna Nicole Smith. (RIP)
Who took SugarPie? We all got so up in arms about the baby who could not have looked more like Larry Whomever in drag, and no one said, Who gets SugarPie. What is that guy's last name?
Although that dog should have been taken from her for the part where she named it SugarPie.
And look, I seem to have gotten off onto a tangent.
Anyway, the point of it raining and Lu lying around like she's on the meth–
–meth doesn't make you lie around, does it? It makes you tweak, whatever that means. Crap. I really have to get cooler.
The POINT of Lu lying around like she's on the 'ludes (hah!) (1979 called. Wants its drug back) is that she is supposed to be dieting and exercising because remember the vet said she was still acceptable but no longer ideal. Which is the story of my life.
So as soon as it was remotely not raining I made her go in the back yard with me, and as you can see, she is getting her swoop back in her waist parts. Go, sexy Lu. Work it. And yes, I see those weeds. Shut up. It rain.
So speaking of being acceptable and no longer ideal, when I was in Colorado, where it dry, I mentioned that for the first time in my life, my skin felt, you know, dry. I am 45 and still break out. I have always had let's call it dewy skin. I thought this would keep me looking youthful but Granny on the Beverly Hillbillies called. She's suing me for doing impersonations.
Anyway, after I mentioned about my skin my Aunt Mary asked what kind of moisturizer I use. "I have never used a moisturizer," I told her.
She looked at me like I had poisoned a family of ten, chopped them into little bits and stir fried them up for her birthday dinner. And the shocking part of that story would be the part where I cooked.
"June, you HAVE to use moisturizer," she said solemnly.
So this weekend I made my way through the rain–
I MADE IT THROUGH THE RAIN! I KEPT MYSELF PROTECTED! I MADE IT THROUGH THE RAIN! I KEPT MY POINT OF VIEW! I MADE IT THROOOOOUGH THE RAIN! AND FOUND MYSELF RESPECTED BY THE OTHERS WHOOO, GOT RAINED ON TOOOOO…
I'll bet you had forgotten that particular Barry Manilow song. I'll bet you're delighted I reminded you. I'm not even sure I sang you the right words.
Oh dear God. Everything is on YouTube.
ANYWAY, I DID make it through the rain and found myself at Ulta. With the others whooo like makeup too.
Someone pounced on me right away and I told her I really wanted to do that Dermalogica face-mapping thing. You'll be shocked to hear that I was sort of familiar with all the skin-care products Ulta had to offer, and I had gandered at this face-mapping this many times. Someone looks at you under a giant magnifying mirror then gives you a map of your face that looks not unlike one of those maps of a pig when they're dividing it up for loins and shoulders and such.
I had no idea when we were eating ham we were eating pig butt, by the way.
And why is "Boston Butt" not a butt at all? Those crazy Boston people. With their baked beans that aren't baked beans and their butts that are shoulders.
So the woman at Ulta said the face-mapping woman wasn't there that day, which, hi. IT'S THE WEEKEND. Don't you think that'd be the ultimate time, forgive the pun, to be there? Nevertheless, this young chippy said she used to be the aesthetician at the salon and she used to do the face-mapping and she could see by looking at me which product I needed.
And she stampeded right over to the anti-aging products.
Okay, I understand I came in there with my walker with tennis balls on the bottom and my pale-green elastic-waist pants and bone-colored tennis shoes and my Depends and my tight perm and my "I Heart Being a Grandmammy" sweatshirt, but anti-aging? Really?
I bought the whole kit. Cosmetics saleswomen make a fortune off me. I told her the next time we see each other I want to resemble a fetus.
So that was my weekend. Oh! And don't forget this Sunday is book club! Or Book Club, as Paula H&B would call it, with her need to capitalize things that don't need capitalizing. We are reading Breakfast with Buddha, and I love love loved it, I can tell you now. I think I said we're meeting at 7 p.m. my time, but if I'm wrong one of you can tell me. I am old and I get addled.
Who are all of you?