Ask June, special holiday edition

Yes, it's true. Ask June even works on Easter, bringing you all that funnyness eggs-actly when you need it most, at the end of your long holiday. That is, if you celebrate Easter. June does not wish to exclude.

Marvin and I celebrated the day by coloring eggs and by me looking incredibly old.

No, seriously. Father Time called. Wants his look back. I look 192 in this picture. Am I one of the Gray Gardens sisters? Maybe I should have put on some of that there makeup before I got my photo taken. My defense is that I spent all day cutting monkey grass and THEN posed for this shot, but still. The eggs weren't in a cage, but maybe I should be. Where's my kennel? Yeesch!

I guess I do not like this photo of myself.

Anyway, I boiled the eggs last night, and had to actually Google "How to boil eggs," which is a step up from what I usually do, which is call one of my parents. I do not cook a lot. Finding anti-aging creams takes up all my time, as you can see.

After the whole boiling activity, we did the dyeing deed this morning.


Marvin did not grow up coloring eggs, and he and I have not colored eggs that much, seeing as we're, you know, adults, so his first move was to plop the first egg in really hard and crack it. Oops.


Nevertheless, he did a fine job and made me a nice pink egg. And if we get into the "what are those polka-dot balls in the background" discussion again I will rip off my skin and run with my skeleton down Park Avenue.

The rest of the day we spent (sit down) cutting monkey grass, ripping out ivy, stomping a rotted stump in the front yard, and scraping paint off our rusted chair. Wooo!


I love this chair, and it used to be all turquoise before I moved somewhere where it actually rained. It got rusty in one year here in North Carolina, and was pristine in California for 10 years. Anyway, we scraped and scratched and clawed our way to the top, and then Marvin put primer on the chair and we will paint it next.


Everyone's a comedian. And no, we aren't painting it black. Who are we, the Addams Family? That's just the rust-y primer-y thing. I am painting it pale pink, actually. Because I would paint the world pale pink if I could.

Those are all the things I needed to tell you, but let's say it and not spray it over at Ask June, shall we?

Paula from New York Dammit asks, "Are/were your parents as funny as you?"

I wonder why Paula put this in the past tense, since I talk about both parents all the time, and I know she reads this blog daily, so she knows they are still, you know, around. Do you think she is insinuating that there is a possibility one or both of my parents used to be a laugh riot and now they're dull as mud? I guess it can happen–can't it?–that someone used to be funny and they get unfunny.

Remember in Say Anything when John Cusack says to his sister in the movie (who was played by Joan Cusack, his sister in real life), "What happened to you? You used to be hilarious?" and she said, "I was hilarious, wasn't I?"

Anyway, Paula, who probably wishes she hadn't asked now, yes. Both of my parents are funny. When I was planning my trip to New York, my father said, "Have you saved a lot of money? Because you know how you're at the airport and you buy a sandwich, and it's $17? Everything you buy in New York is like everything you buy at the airport. It just seems like it can't possibly be that expensive, but it is."

Maybe that wasn't his best line, but he is funny.

And all of my mother's friends always say, "Oh, you get your sense of humor from your mother," which, I guess if anyone remembers her nice cleaning tip that earned her comment of the week a while back, perhaps might be true. I get my refined sense of humor from mom.

Kerrin says, "My Ask June question is about the ankle tattoo you displayed while wearing the snazzy aqua dress. Could you tell the story of what it is and when/where you got it? I love tattoo stories of a grown person's spunky youth…"

Okay, I have told this story before, but people come and go from this blog, so I might as well tell it again. The year was 1994 and I was living in Seattle with an artist with long hair. He kind of had an Anthony Kiedis look about him and he was really funny. He wasn't, however, ready to get married and I was allllllll ready to be married and apparently I didn't care who I got married TO because looking back on it if I'd have married him we'd have been divorced in a year.

Anyway, he kept saying he wasn't ready to be married, so I moved out. I was very proud of myself for taking this firm stance. I moved in with Faithful Readers Sabrina Duncan and Master Instructor Susan Harris and I think they can back me up on the fact that at first, I was just fine! Which might tell you something about how good it was I didn't marry him.

Two months later, I ran into him. He was with a woman. Of course he was with a woman, he looked like Anthony Kiedis. I said hello to him and tried to be dignified and somehow mentioned his girlfriend, and he said, "She's not my girlfriend, she's my wife. We eloped at the Church of Elvis in Las Vegas last week."


The only good thing I can say about a blow like that is that it is a MARVELOUS diet plan. I got down to 118 pounds. I looked FABULOUS except for the part where I cried all the time. Anyway, because he had something that would last forever (and it did. He is still married. Two kids), I wanted something that would last forever. And so I got a tattoo.


And you know I felt kind of better? And then a few years later I went back and got an Eiffel Tower on the other ankle, because I just like the Eiffel Tower. Wouldn't it be awful if someone ELSE I dated got married 10 seconds after we broke up and I had to get another tattoo because of that?


When I don't shave my legs, my tattoo looks like a rainy night in Paris. I probably used that line last time I talked about my tattoos.

Okay, my wrists really, really hurt from shocking the monkey (grass) all weekend, so Ask June will bid you adieu, even if you are happy with the hair you have.

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At one point, I was sort of hot, in a "she's 27 and probably a 7" kind of a way. Now I'm old and have to develop a charming personality. Guess how that's going.

24 thoughts on “Ask June, special holiday edition”

  1. My grandmother had chairs like that (on her front porch) and they were dark green. She probably painted them that color, because, come to think of it, the chair in her kitchen was that same green.
    Cracked me up you didn’t know how to boil eggs.


  2. The last time I decorated eggs it was because I bought a Star Wars kit. It came with a plastic Darth Vader helmet for the egg and was the only reason I got it. The Darth Vader egg is still on display in my father’s house. I am 28 and this was three years ago.


  3. Wait just a cotton-pickin’ (That’s North Carolina cotton, just in case you were wondering) minute. You lived with Susan Harris? THE Susan Harris??? The one that regularly kicked my firm-loving (and losing) ass?
    Oh mahholyhell.


  4. Your post put me over the edge – must watch “Say Anything” again. And “When Harry Met Sally.”
    And wondering what the story is behind Faithful Readers Sabrina Duncan. How does one achieve plural status?
    I may have just achieved anal nitpicker status…


  5. June:
    About that monkey grass – we have it surrounding our gardens and it gets ugly every year. When springs rolls around we roll over it with the lawn mower. In a couple of weeks it’s beautiful again. Alot less time consuming than the hacking away at it.


  6. Hi Junie,
    My husband, Danny boy, has the same pajamas as your Marvin. Apparently we shop in the same places! Except Ikea. Still never been.
    I miss coloring Easter eggs. I love doing it. But then what do you do with seventy-leven hard boiled eggs? Egg salad for lunch, anyone?


  7. Thank you so much for telling the ankle tattoo story! I looked back and couldn’t find the old version, but didn’t want to be annoying and ask AGAIN about it. You just made my day. THANKS!


  8. First you don’t look old. That being said ever notice I put pictures of everyone and everything in my blog but me? That is because I don’t want to scare anyone.
    Second how cute is it that you and Starvin Marvin colored eggs. I love that you had to google “How to Boil Eggs”
    Third I don’t understand that you don’t cook much. That boggles my mind.
    Fourth my grandparents had the whole patio set that matches your chair. It was all pale pink.
    Fifth I have never wanted a tattoo never even on little bit. But I have always been curious. Did it hurt when you got them around you ankle?


  9. My favorite thing that happens in When Harry Met Sally, and this is saying a lot because everything that happens in that movie is my favorite thing that happens and I know that makes no sense, is when they are singing Surry with the Fringe on Top and Sally says right into the microphone, “HELEN?” It kills me.
    Marvin is wearing pajamas, not boxers, in the photo, and I do not know why he changed hats to go outside. Perhaps he showered and grabbed another hat. He has to wear a hat to work outside or he gets all ill from the sun. He turns alabaster and gets clammy.
    I cannot solve for you the mystery of why he is wearing a hat with pajamas. Marvin is like the Mona Lisa. We will never know all of his secrets.


  10. I totally call my dad for stuff like that all the time. Dad, how long do you cook a roast? Because I have no idea.
    Chairs rusting on the patio? Interesting, I would have never thought about that. Of course, in Phoenix we have no water at all. Ever. So things don’t rust. They just melt.
    “She was supposed to be his transitional person!!! Was her name Kimberly?”
    Dear Bell, I loved your “When Harry Met Sally” reference. Can you sing “Surry With the Fringe On Top?” In front of Ira?


  11. So those pictures were taken the same day? The hat thing is really bugging me. First, who wears a hat inside with pajamas? Second, who (of those who would go to the trouble of wearing a hat inside with their pajamas) would go to the trouble of switching to a different hat before going outside?


  12. I wonder if the woman he eloped with was someone he had dated previously. I just find it hard to believe he’d been with her less than 2 months, eloped, and that they’re still married with 2 kids.


  13. Jeez oh Pete, I was feeling down in the mouth and then… June came in to save my day. I laughed out loud. And purred a little at the hint of Marvin’s boxers. He’s such a tease.
    1. You don’t look old. You don’t even look like you were out killing monkey grass, scraping chairs and stomping the stump. When I have been out doing yard work I look like 10 miles of bad road. And I tense up if a city truck comes by. I’m afraid they’ll try to re-asphalt me.
    B. I heart Say Anything. HEART IT! I also heart John Cusack and wonder when he will want to give up his bachelorhood to woo me away from my husband so we can marry and live happily ever after. I heart him. I digress, that line spoken by the wonderfully talented Joan, whom I also heart, but in a totally straight way, completely sums up my life.
    pi. The “boyfriend married/moved in with another chic within nano-seconds of us breaking up” diet is the best diet in the world. Thin, thin, thin was I. The long, desperately frizzy, needing a major haircut hair that goes with that diet was so attractive. So was the glassy, dark circled, red-rimmed eyes. Pretty. Sure, I was thin, but I looked like a really, really bad heroin/meth head.
    IV. I’m afraid to get a tattoo. Not of the pain. Just of it being there permanently. After I had the “bad break-up diet” the only rebelous thing I did was march into the salon and have the girl cut off what was once my beautiful, long, curly, blond waist length, thick blond hair. Up to my shoulders. Oh, I showed him. I showed him by ruining my hair. If I was brave enough to get a tattoo, I would get two… one of Classic Winnie the Pooh somewhere… either my hip or lower belly or side. And two… the words “Lucky You” above my pubic bone. Because I’m conceited that way. 😉
    I’m a chatty Cathy who just hijacked this blog. I am tired, lonely and bored. Sorry! 🙂


  14. I looked up Hard Boiled Eggs in my Betty Crocker cookbook, used the cold water method – put them in cold water, bring it to a boil, then take it off the burner, cover the pan and let them sit for 24 minutes, then put them in cold water so they stop cooking. They were the best eggs I’ve ever cooked.
    I’m impressed with your tri-colored egg – way cool.


  15. They make light colored primer; just letting you know in case that black primer doesn’t get covered up by the pale pink spray you intend to use.


  16. marvin can really dye those eggs. and stickers, TOO??? 🙂 i have no patience to do the multiple shades..someday when the kids have left the house i’ll get to dye my own dang eggs. 😉
    oh, and my mom googled how to boil eggs too, on my behalf. usually i have grey-green yolks but it turns out i’ve been overcooking them. oops! now my yolks are yellow and beautiful, whew.


  17. I hate to Ask June a question when you do an Ask June, but the picture of Marvin begs the question – DID YOU TAKE A PICTURE OF HIM IN HIS BOXERS???
    Inquiring minds want to know.


  18. Thanks again for a laugh. I esp love Tallulah running behind Marvin as he primes the wonderful chair. All of the sudden she’s camera shy?


  19. I thought your “he was with a woman” said “he was now a woman”. I was so glad you didn’t marry him – until I read it again. Jerk. I’m still glad you didn’t marry him.


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