Where Neighbors Come Together

For once, there was cat drama on my NextDoor that didn't involve Steely Dan. Do y'all have NextDoor? It's a website just for your neighborhood, so you can know right away who's racist. They should just go ahead and update their name to BigotNextDoor. ALERT! SUSPICIOUS AFRICAN AMERICAN MAN ENTERING HOUSE ON 1600 BLOCK! That's … Continue reading Where Neighbors Come Together

The one where June misses Halloween

For years, we've been doing this project at work that is what you might call detailed. If you're a proofreader or a copy editor, all three of you, it has everything that takes time. Names you need to check? Yes. Numbers? Yes. Details that're listed in several places and they all must match? Yes. Fact-checking … Continue reading The one where June misses Halloween

It’s a pretty good crowd for a–oh, shut up.

Right now, everyone is outside except for old Steely Dickly, here, and it occurs to me that if he were my only pet, I'd be miserable. He's never HERE. He comes in to eat, maybe sleep with one gray arm strewn across his eyes, chew a few of my beloved clothing items, then leave for … Continue reading It’s a pretty good crowd for a–oh, shut up.

June sends loving thoughts to people who hold up the line

Last night I had a ridiculous dream. (Oh, good. Someone's gonna describe their dream.) I dreamt I met a man and didn't care for him at first, so when we first were introduced, I gave him my most sarcastic of smiles. But then, somehow, I realized I really liked him, so then I had to … Continue reading June sends loving thoughts to people who hold up the line

Let me call you Megan, I’m in love with you.

This morning, I woke up at Ned's. Look at me, trying to be all compelling. You won't BELIEVE what happens next! Actually, you will. I went home and let Edsel out. That's it. On Thursday, I took ridiculous Edsel to the vet, because he'd been chewing on himself and scratching and was driving me insane, … Continue reading Let me call you Megan, I’m in love with you.

The laughs make up for the marsupial pouch

Do you know what I hate? The don't-be-so-hard-on-yourself-when-you're-trying-to-insult-yourself guy. And by "guy" I mean anyone. Look, or even looky here, as my eighth-grade algebra teacher used to say (and there's a job. Hey, this year you're gonna teach June algebra! Good luck and here's your methadone prescription), none of us are 100% happy with ourselves, … Continue reading The laughs make up for the marsupial pouch