Your questions answered. My textbook procrastinated.

A real grownup, such as, say, my stepfather, would have gotten up early and done today's statistics textbook proofreading already. However, hello. Have we met? I stayed up till 1:30 and just crawled out of bed. Now I'm blogging at you, and stay tuned for June's-panic-about-her-textbook posts in about a week. I know I said that yesterday. I will probably say that all week until it's time for June's panic-about-her-textbook posts.

Anyway, yesterday we had an Ask June Anything Day, and today I will answer your pressing Qs forthwith. …There are, apparently, 60 questions y'all asked yesterday, a thing I just noticed as I just looked at my blog for the first time. Not ever. But since I posted yesterday. Your questions came to me in email form, and I thought they were manageable, but maybe not. I'll answer SOME today and some tomorrow. What say you? Don't answer that.

Kate wondered, What are you going to do that makes you smile this weekend? Other than counting your potential dollars made per hour?

I didn't do much, so far, other than proofread. And remember when I had A COLD a few weeks back? Just when that one was clearing up, I got another cold, and that one is just going away, then last night my throat started hurting. GODDAMMIT. So the weekend has been proofreading a textbook, although it's nice out here, so I've been doing it in the back yard with the dogs. The dogs are excellent proofreaders.

d-lou inquired, How can you put 1000 Island dressing on your Big Boy? Would you ever move back to Michigan?

I put 1000 Island on my Big Boy sandwich because that's the way God and all the saints intended it, d-lou. Read your Bible. It's in Elias 4:17.

Also, I don't think so. I'd like to be around my family more, as I like them and all, but the weather, man. And the weathermen. Aren't the Weathermen the people who sang It's Raining Men? Also, the men. Michigan men are not my type. I realize I lost my virginity to a Michigan man, and the great love of my life for many decades was a Michigan man, and I married a Michigan man. But two out of three of those men left Michigan. So.

"Elias 4:17" was only funny if you're from Michigan.

Sapphire Anastasia pondered, Can we send in pictures from our Christmas this year and you post them?


Nellie asked, Do you know Marvin's ex-girlfriend is getting married?I did! But the only reason I know that is because ANOTHER reader told me. It kills me that y'all know who she is and what she's up to. I wish her no ill will. Really. I'm sure reading a whole nine-year diatribe on someone she liked was hard. Of course, she could have just abstained from reading, but what woman among us could have resisted?

Just me, Vee asked, Why do camptown ladies sing this song "doo dah, doo, dah"? And what are camptown ladies?I feel like they're sluts. But maybe I'm just turning into my grandmother again, calling all women sluts. I feel like doo dah, doo dah is a euphemism for douching. But maybe I'm crazy.

I have a funny doo dah story. See, this is why I should not proofread statistics textbooks in my spare time. Anyway, my friend comes from a large family, many of whom are very conservative Christians. My friend is not. My friend is, in fact, gay as a goose. It was Xmas Eve, and my friend and his equally no-longer-religious sister were in the back seat, as adults, riding to church with their parents. Since they were both unmarried, they were still stuck riding to church with mom and dad as though they were 12 years old.

"When we get back, your brother's kids have a song they've written and want to sing for all of us," my friend's beleaguered mom told them.

My friend and his sister exchanged glances. The brother was the religiousest of all the siblings, and he was pretty judge-y about it.

"We are Christians, you are not. Doo dah, doo dah," my friend sang quietly to his sister.

"We are Christians you are not, all the doo dah day," sang the sister.

"We are Christians, yay! You are Christians, nay," sang my friend, getting giggly.

"You are going to hell someday, we're gonna be okay," sang the sister, and that is when I fell in love with the sister.

Since you and N love each other to the ends of the earth and back, what happened? communication? too different lifestyle wants and needs? not enough alone time? too much sharing????

I like how she calls him N, like I can't see the whole name without falling apart. This is tricky, because I do still love Ned and do not wish to spread his bidness all over yonder. It wouldn't bother me a bit, but he wouldn't like that. But suffice it to say there was, indeed, something insurmountable that meant we couldn't be together anymore.

And it was none of the above choices. Nothing like that. We loved living together and our wants and needs were similar. That's what's so difficult. 90% was good. But the 10% that wasn't was, again, insurmountable.

Carol in Mpls wondered, Sometime, early in the new year, can we do show & tell pictures of our pets?

No. You guys have Pie on the Face! It's the perfect place to do this, because then I won't lose anyone's photo. And I won't get the sad-face emoticon comment when I forget it.

My friend-in-real-life, Dot, asked, Where are the Snowdens of yesteryear?
Oh my god, shut up. Love, June.
Angie inquired, Since you've been blogging, so you still journal? Do the journal and blog have mostly the same stuff? Does the journal cover stuff you can't talk about on the blog because it's other people's lives or stuff about your own that you don't want to share? Is your journal as fun to read as your blog?
I do still keep a journal, and no, it's not the same stuff at all. Mostly this past year it's been angsty stuff about Ned, and no, it's no fun to read at all. It's all my sad clown shit.
Inquiring (or is it enquiring) minds want to know asked, Why does each chapter be on an odd-numbered page?
In books, even-numbered pages are on the left; they're also called verso pages. Recto, or right-sided pages, are on the right. If you notice, all book chapters, or pretty much all, start on the right side, not the left. So.
LinCA wondered, 1.Does your old neighborhood seem the same when you take the dogs for a walk (have you seen the same gaggle of little girls that like your dogs?). 2. Do your pets like the move…or don't really care….? 3. Do you recommend online dating or is it a weirdo magnet?

My neighbor Paul died, which is sad. His house is empty and lonely-looking. Also, I have a new neighbor in the back–just introduced myself to her yesterday. I asked about the woman who USED to live back there, and she said THAT neighbor died, too, quite suddenly, and then she moved in. With Paul, the across-the-street woman who died a few years back and now the woman behind me, I am Angela Lansbury of my hood.

The pets knew exactly where they where and there was not one minute of anxiety from any of them, fortunately. There's a whole new dog in the kitty-corner yard in back that my curs bark bark bark bark bark at, and I'm sure everyone loves that we have returned. I DO call them in when they start that goddamn barking. And by "they" I mean mostly Edsel. Lu barks when there's something to bark at, but often I look back there and Eds is in the middle of the yard, his snout in the air, just barking at the sky. Eds can be a real dick.
I DO recommend online dating. You have to stick it out, though. You have to slog through 86 messages from StiffStick69 till you meet a real person, but via online dating I met Dick Whitman, the Fireman, Daniel Boone (okay, I know), Tall Boy and Ned. So.
Lisa. Not that Lisa pondered, Who's your favorite Persistenf Reader?
I wonder what a presistenf reader is. That was a total Marvin answer.
Dad of Frank and Zoe asked, Y?
darla asked, Who is your presidential candidate of choice so far?
Bernie Sanders. Hey, maybe I'll be like Oprah when she endorsed Obama. My influencer voice will be heard throughout the land and Bernie Sanders will have me over to the White House for mashed potatoes and mac and cheese.
Nancy in CA wondered, You seem to make new friends so easily everywhere you go. How do you do it? And once you start a conversation, how do you go from a pleasant conversation to going for coffee or doing other friend things together?
I have no idea. I guess it's because I don't care if I seem weird. And most times, I think I seem weird. I just get up my courage and ask people to do stuff, because what's the worst that could happen? Remember how I was on OK Cupid for six minutes and gave up? I met a nice man on there, and he seems clearly not interested in me romantically, but I said, Hey, why don't we be new-breakup friends and hang out that way? He said sure. If he'd have said no, what was I gonna do, kill myself? So.
Deb who is back to being Deb asked, If you read other blogs, which are your favorites?>I don't. Isn't that awful? I check in on Dooce every six months, but that's it.
We have a billionty more Qs, which I will answer tomorrow. I thought you guys didn't even LOOK at my ass on a Saturday. Geez.
Thanks for the Qs! Do you like how I keep calling them Qs?

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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.