There’s something very smug-inducing about leaving your workout and the moon is still out. Like, you’re done and the sun hasn’t come up yet. Very Army.
I did Pure Barre at 6 a.m. today, obvs. And I say obvs because look at this ass. How can you miss it. …Okay, maybe the results of Pure Barre haven’t quite set in yet.
Yesterday was a good mail day. Faithful Reader Fay sent me Fiona the Hippo. I see that when they blew stuff around my camellias that it soiled the window, and now my ridiculous handyman Alf has a new thing to do. Today he is coming to fix the rod in my closet, which sounds like a euphemism but I swear it is not. I’d have to kill Alf before I let him “fix” the rod in my “closet.” Actually when you break it down that way it doesn’t even make sense as a euphemism.
Alf is someone I am sincerely fond of, who does everything he can to annoy me. Right there is the conundrum. Really, I am telling you this here so when I finally kill him, I’ll have evidence that I was driven to it. That’s how getting out of murder works, right?
I never watch those murder shows. Maybe I need to bone up. Which is also something Alf isn’t going to do around here.
Anyway, also, my father sent me a paper towel holder. He is a very kitchen-y person, and I guess knowing my paper towels were rolling around unchaperoned on my counter is very Third World to him. So now I have the World’s Fanciest Paper Towel Holder®. With a five-year warranty!
After the excitement of the mail day wore off, my Aunt Kathy sent me an email. “I don’t know how to send a link,” she wrote, “but if you Google [insert thing she said here], you can find an interview I did!”
This was all a Very Aunt Kathy email. The internet is her bailiwick. She might start working at the Apple store.
Here. Here is the elusive link. This was maybe four years ago, that this interview took place, and Dear Aunt Kathy: You look way hotter now. She’s lost weight, for one, and her hair is better.
Anyway, if you know my aunt, you know that the part where she tears up during the interview is rare and elusive. It’s the unicorn of Aunt Kathy emotions.
Aunt Kathy and I have always been more similar than my relatively steady mother and I. Not that I cry a lot; I don’t. But one might say my every emotion is rather…close to the surface.
Have I ever told you the scary mammogram story? I mean, I know I have. I regale you with that motherfucker every mammogram season. But what I mean is, after the stupid general practitioner said, “Prepare for the worst,” I did what any adult woman would do: I called my mother. I told her the story thus far.
My mother paused. She breathed deeply and serenly. “Well, we don’t really know anything yet,” she said, with all the animation of Liberace at a titty bar.
After we had our even-keeled conversation, I called my Aunt Kathy. Told her the story. Here was her response:
So. Aunt Kathy and me. Same.
Why was I on this tangent? I forget.
Here’s today’s Chubby Stick lip color, in a shade called FOR FUCK’S SAKE I CAN’T FIND IT. I put it on yesterday at lunchtime, and although it looks as though I’m posing for my senior picture, really the guy across the street had called an ambulance again. He’s 109, and calls an ambulance all the time.
This doesn’t stop me from Gladys Kravitzing every time he does it.
My point is, just now I looked in the tray, and that one color is missing GODDAMMIT. So I looked in my purse, that endless endless bowel that is my purse, with its 86 zipper compartments and 29 pockets, and I don’t see it. I also looked around that chair I was splayed on, but no.
I just went online, Googled the names of the damn colors, and I think that was Roundest Raspberry.
Oh, hell. I think we’ve done all of them, actually. Because the next one is Grandest Grape, and we already did that, didn’t we? This is why you shouldn’t let me be in charge of things.
I’ll figure it out tonight and present you with a grand finale of all 21 stupid colors, none of which were all that colorful, if you ask me.
While I’ve been talking to you and tryina figure out lip colors like it’s interesting, I’ve been eating my protein bar, in the hopes that I won’t get to work and want a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit after allegedly burning 394959394 calories at 6 a.m. because I’m in the Army.
Do you capitalize “Army”?
I guess that’s all my big news for now. Oh, I just noticed the date and remembered today is my six-year anniversary of having Lily. I’d already snagged Iris, maybe a week before I got Lily. Before that I’d been out of cats. And now there’s a cacophony of them!
I just got up to take a photo of the cacophony of cats, and this was the best I could do. Hey, why are my wood floors dull? I mean other than the fact that 32 paws traverse them daily. How do you make ’em shiny again?
I guess I have to Bona them. Which is not a euphemism and here we are back at the beginning.
Talk to you tomorrow, but before I go, what smell makes you the most nostalgic? I was thinking about this last night. I was tryina sleep early cause I knew I had to get up at 5:30, but there was this…BRIGHT LIGHT shining into my window, and I was all, What the hell is that? Ima give the gaybors a piece of my mind if they…
…it was the moon. The moon! Then I didn’t mind the light so much. But anyway that’s what I thought of as I lay there wishing I’d fall the hell asleep already. Why are we always awake when we don’t want to be and sleepy when we can’t be? Why?
For me, definitely Vick’s Vapo-Rub. And probably really cold winter smells that I can’t remember anymore because I’m never back in Michigan in winter unless someone falls over dead.
I was home in early September once, but just once, and in the early morning it was already frosty, and just the feel of that was very nostalgic to me. The smell of the leaves and the frost and how it was still KIND of summer, but also headed quickly to fall.
You know how if your hair is one way, let’s just say curly, to throw a scenario out there and how’d I think of that. So, your hair is one way, but you do something to it to make it the other way, like straight, but your hair WANTS to be the other way, so as soon as it can, it starts to curl the fuck back up.
That’s how Michigan feels. Sure, it’ll give you two and a half months of “summer,” but it really wants to go back to being cold.
While I’ve been talking to you, the moon went away. I guess I’d better get to work.