June’s Cheer Blog

Hi, everyone!!! How's everyone's day going!!?? Sure have missed you all since yesterday!! : )

God, wouldn't it be awful if I were cheerful like that?

289781_10150290035273850_1265847_oI've always been what you might call a cranky person, and I have no problem with that.

I do know some cheerful people who I like. The guy who works in our mailroom is always happy, but not in a Hey, what'd'yaknow, whatd'yasay point-his-finger-at-you kind of way. He's just kind of always quietly happy. We were talking at work the other day about how if you don't like that guy, there's gotta be something wrong with you.

But I am not happy that way. I wonder if people don't like me because I'm Oscar the Crab, or if it's somehow endearing? I must be endearing, right?

Okay, maybe not.

In other news, I feel bad for Joni Mitchell. She's in a coma. The summer I lived in England, I'd get up in the morning really early and run, and who WAS I? I know I was inevitably hung over each day. But I lived in the same park that held the London Zoo, not that they put me up in the zoo for the summer, which I'd have been totally down with. But I'd run from my dorm to the zoo, look at all the animals who were already out. The wolves would run from one end of their cage to the other, looking at me the whole time.

Those wolves were not subtle. They'd have literally eaten my shorts.

MY POINT IS, I had no device, no Walkman or iPod or any headphones whatsoever, and for some reason this song was often in my head while I ran:


I lived there in July and August of 1990. I have no idea why I was singing that. You know what I did? I made a lot of money, and I quit this crazy scene.

Anyway, the point is, I like Joni Mitchell. I'm like Emma Thompson's character in Love, Actually. Except for the likable, stoic part.

Stoic. There's another thing I'm not. Let's have a day where we say all the things we're not.



At a loss for words. I never understand it when someone says, "I didn't know what to say." HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW WHAT TO SAY? Say the first thing that pops into your head, that's what you say.


On time. It's already 8:31. GodDAMMIT.



CU Now, Tuesday. That never gets old.

Mondays are always my ridiculous day, as I have an hour-long weekly meeting at work right from 4:00 till 5:00, and then I have my my student–for whom I have to make lesson plans–and finally my Purple Clover articles are always due on Monday.

And I want you to know I did ALL THOSE THINGS, and basically was in pajamas by 8:30. Hooo care? I was exhausted.

I just finished a really large book I re-read from 15 years ago, called Gloria, and now I need a new book to read. With all my spare time, because I'm not moving in three weeks or anything. But you know how I am. If I don't have a book to fall back on I feel like I've forgotten my cigarettes or something. Not that I've ever smoked. But I imagine it's the same. I mentioned this analogy to Ned, who said when he smoked there was never, ever a time he'd forget, or run out of, cigarettes.

My point is, book suggestions? Nothing stupid. I mean, if it's like those impostor perfumes where they say, "If you liked Obsession, you'll LOVE Stalker!" but instead they say, "If you liked Twilight, you'll LOVE Vampires at Dinnertime!"

Not that I didn't read Twilight. All of them. I know. Shut up. That's why I say nothing stupid. Because I'll read something stupid just as easily as I'll read something good.

The other morning I was at Ned's and read a delightful short story he'd been reading, where a guy is on his honeymoon, having sex with  his beautiful wife, and four pages later he kills himself. Ned has darkness in his soul.

Speaking of Ned, the other day he emerged from my kitchen, munching my box of lime Wheat Thins. "THIS is what I'm worried about when I live with you," he munched. I had no idea what he meant.

"UNHEALTHY SNACKS!" he said, and if you ask me, Wheat Thins aren't even that bad. Wait till I pull out the marshmallow fluff. Who do you think will win in this healthy/unhealthy war? Will I get all salady or will he help me with my weekly love letter to Hostess?

Also, you should SEE his closets. Everything's hanging the same way, all straight and tidy and so on, and there aren't 17,000 unmatched shoes on the floor, and no 900 tins of old love letters or sachets or hats or old shrugs I can't get rid of flopping all over the shelf on top. What I'm trying to say to you is Ned is neat.and.tidy. How soon till he kills me dead and uses Twinkies as his reason? "I wasn't used to processed foods! My brain snapped!" Marvin will come get on the stand in his defense.

All right, I have to go. Tonight I'm going to pack for awhile, then Ned and I are getting together. Oh, and I plan to try to mail your crate pictures tonight. PayPal me if you haven't, with your address.

And don't forget, books! Oh, and I forgot to promote yesterday's Purple Clover, which was rude of me. BAH!

Blog, she wrote

Do you realize that Lily was gone exactly twice as long as my longest-disappearing-but-came-back cat, Confetti, who left for 26 days in 1987? Lily was gone for 52 days. FIFTY-TWO DAYS.

The vet said she had one live flea on her, so dousing her with meds the second she got indoors was one of my more brilliant plans. She has a little upper respiratory thing, but the vet said that's to be expected and she doesn't think meds are necessary. I can call them meds because I am a doctor. A British doctor. I am Faithful Reader Nithya. Word to Nithya!

Does Nithya still read this stupid blog? People come and go so quickly here. If you've read this blog for more than three years, leave a comment today saying you're still here. What about Peter? He used to comment all the time. Do I KILL all these people or something? I'm the Angela Lansbury of bloggers.

I know we've lost Siren, not that she's dead, although she'd love it if we all said she was dead. Oh, how I miss her. Got attached.

I have no idea how I got off on this old-readers tangent. It's just that you all can check in years later and be all, Oh looky there. June's still around. But if YOU guys go I never find out another thing about you. Of course, if you say things like "looky" I don't want to find out anything about you, anyway.

Hang on. I gotta wipe off my Nair for Faces.

…Okay, I'm back. I recently told Ned my "dark like man" story and he got way too big of a kick out of it. You know that story. I was in my early 30s and I went to get my eyebrows waxed. "You want me to wax mustache too?" that little jerk of a waxer asked me. "Oh, no, I–thank you, I–I don't HAVE a mustache," I said.

"Ohhhh," she said solemnly, "You dark like man."

I have never handed seven dollars over to a person more quickly. All my friends insisted she was scamming me for that big payoff, because I emailed EVERYONE to say "Why did none of you TELL me I'm Clark Gable," but now I faithfully Nair and wax every month, because dark like man.

Speaking of Ned, he and I schlepped over to house number 49484828 yesterday and god, was it beautiful. A gay couple bought and renovated a 1928 bungalow, so need I say more. "I wish YOU were gay," I told Ned as we strolled on gorgeous hardwoods and admired tasteful colors and hardware and built-in everything.

The drawbacks? No fence, but he said we can put one in, which…

And one bathroom. But oh my GOD what a beautiful bathroom. You should see the goddamn kitchen. There was nothing in that house that was NOT beautiful. And the rooms were HUGE. But fence. FENCE.

I hope you're all jousting at each other now.

Afterward, Ned said, "Have you eaten? Because I'm starving," and let me just tell you what. If it's ever 8:00 my time and you're wondering what I'm up to–and if so, hey, No-Life. But if you are, I assure you there's an 80% chance Ned is saying that very thing. WHAT DOES HE DO between 5:00 and 8:00? Does he just wander from room to room, wondering what the common folk are up to during those hours? And then he gets exasperated with me because imagine that, I've eaten by 8:00. Is he a New Yorker?

So, because I'd had popcorn for dinner and could totally go for a bang-bang, we got something to eat. There's this restaurant near me that I've always said I hated, mostly because the name annoys me and because once I didn't like what I ordered. But then I've been there since, with coworkers, and it wasn't bad.

"Why don't we go to Whoo-De-Hooo-Hooo Xerophthalmia?" I asked Ned, and you can see how that name might bug.

"But you HATE it there," he said.

"I might not," I offered.

"But every time I say I want to try it there, you say, 'Oh my god I HATE that place.'" You should hear Ned's impression of me complaining about something. I sound like Linda Blair.

The point is, we went to Whoo-De-Hooo-Hooo Xerophthalmia and It.Was.Delicious. And cheap! All this time we've been snubbing the place right near me and we were missing all that reasonable deliciousness. I even have leftovers that I am dearly tempted to eat now but will try to be a grownup and wait till lunchtime like normal people.

Oh, and speaking of that, the other night it was 8:00 and Ned was hungry, so we went to this place we ALWAYS go, and I only ate half my sandwich. I wrapped the other half in my napkin and put it in my purse. But then? I got home and kind of forgot I'd done that? And when I got back into the room, Tallulah had my purse straps over her neck like she was eating out of a feed bag. She even ate the napkin.

Tallulah is a dick.

And my dogs are trained solidly.

Okay, I have to go. Lily is mostly sleeping constantly, still, but if she were awake I'm sure she'd say everyone stop looking at her but also could she please get in your lap. When you pet her, she feels like one of those bony old cats. That vet had catorexia. No way she's a good weight right now.

Says the person who ate dinner twice last night.



“Oh good. Someone else’s vacation pictures.”

I was tempted to title this "I need a vaCAtion from my vaCAtion!" but I was afraid there'd be that one person out there who didn't know how I abhor that sentence, and they'd be all, "Wow, June is such an asshole."

Anyway, I'm back, and it's Sunday evening, and the pets and I are reunited like Bitches and Herb. Eds is completely exhausted from day care (see him back there, saying, "Fuk dis. Eds tire"?) Iris immediately ran outside the minute I opened the back door. Dose mice not gonna eet demselfs.

IMG_1374Luuuu care

In a little while, Ned is gonna call me to have dinner, because it's been so long since we've seen each other. We managed to get along just fine despite spending 256 hours in the car, and didn't even have any fights or anything. Even when he'd get more ice to crunch.

I thought I'd show you some of our vacation shots, because nothing's more interesting than looking at someone's photos. I wish we could all gather around my phone, because that's even more fun, when someone makes you do that. "Come over here and scrinch behind me while I show you things you're completely over after photo one!"

IMG_1172I took Ned to the Turkey Roost, my favorite restaurant of all time ever in the universe, and I've been to the Rainbow Room.

In fact, I have never been to the Rainbow Room, but I like how that's my restaurant pinnacle. Am sophisticated.

When I was a kid, I was a finicky eater, and what ever happened to THAT slip-of-a-thing version of me? The point is, whenever they took me to the Roost I ate like a linebacker. They serve turkey and turkey, and they serve it in about 30 seconds. I am not even kidding. Oh, I love it there so bad, I do.

IMG_1175Despite the fact that your choices are turkey with dark meat, turkey with light meat, a turkey sandwich or that day's soup (the day we were there, the soup of the day was…turkey! Who knew?), Ned still had to look at the menu and ask the waitress to come back. He ended up going with the turkey.

IMG_1177After we had our jive turkey–and really, why don't I take this act on the road–we headed to northern Michigan where my cousin Katie the lesbian, who is outdoorsy, lives with her husband Jason, who is outdoorsy.

IMG_1227Oh, look, there's Jason outdoors. You never see THAT. Jason makes really beautiful furniture for a living, and I plan to write a whole post about it because, man. But look at the link I just put in here, and you will feel not unlike Carrie Bradshaw the first time she entered Aidan's store.

"You know, there's a whole part of Sex and the City that features a furniture maker…" I began, and everyone studiously ignored me. At this point, Ned could recite the whole series word for word and he's barely seen one episode. Honestly, I'm worse than Susan Sharon.

The point of my story is that it was cold up there. I mean cold. Rocky was there punching meat. Penguins were crying ice cube tears. We're talking chilly. Katie told us to bring layers, but I thought she meant maybe bring a loose cotton sweater, when what she really meant was mukluks. I actually don't really know what mukluks are but I think they have something to do with muks winning the lottery.

IMG_1186Here's everyone putting on WINTER COATS to have a bonfire, and I know this is a terrible picture but Ned put the kibosh on the other one I took. "Don't put in that picture of me. I look like a monkey."

"You know, there's an episode of Sex and the City where someone looks like a monkey."

IMG_1184The good news is, Katie and Jason are outdoorsy AND chef-fy. Everything we ate Ned ended up saying it was the best thing he'd ever eaten in his life. Ned enjoys food. Food is Ned's Sex and the City.

IMG_1374I meant to put in a photo of the buffalo burgers they made us, but happy Tallulah is here again, instead. Lu would have been pleased to partake of our buffalo burgers, but she was in prison all week, at daycare. I watched her on the webcam, trying to play with a fox terrier who ignored her, and it broke my heart in a million pieces. PLAY WITH MY DOG, YOU FOXY POINTY-NOSED BITCH.

IMG_1183Here. Here is the real photo of the buffalo burgers. Ned goddammited these early and often.

Katie and Outdoorsy Jason just moved back to Michigan, from Alaska. They wanted to go to toasty northern Michigan. They sold everything they had before coming back, so although they've bought this adorable house:

IMG_1188Adorable house.

IMG_1190Adorable house with dog. Oh, look, Jason's outside.

They have little furniture. Which is how Ned and I ended up spending two nights in that camper you see up yonder. Believe it or not it was pretty comfy. Ned woke me up both nights to come out and look at shooting stars, and for someone who looks at shooting stars, he does not know more.

ThemoreyouknowI believe both times that he shook me awake at 3 a.m., my wish for him involved fucking and youing. I did, however, stand in the frigid yard and look at stars BEFORE I fell asleep, and they were lovely. Ned asked me to point out where the North Star is, and everyone's a comedian. I knew the Big Dipper or the Big Bopper or whatever pointed at the North Star, but YOU get out your punch ladle and see if everyone agrees where it's pointing.

IMG_1222You will be stunned to hear that Katie and Jason suggested we go for a hike, outdoors, so we did, and then we went to Lake Michigan, because Ned is obsessed with bodies of water. "Which Great Lake is closest to your home town?" he asked me, like that's just something everyone knows. You wanna know what religion Charlotte York is, I got your answer. You wanna know what song reminds Carrie Bradshaw of driving around as a teenager, I can tell you that. The Great Lakes. Pfft.

IMG_1217Look how everyone had to pretend to like me while we were at Lake Michigan. Also, please behold my "hiking clothes," which involved my mom's yoga pants, because outdoorsy? If you were going to describe me in one word…

I see I've droned on for a coon's age and I only covered two days of our holiday. Am clearly British with my "holiday." The point is, I have 9239492393 other photos to go over, and this will be one of those posts where I write write write and upload upload upload and juggle plates while playing Flight of the Bumblebee on my one-man band and? Nothing. No comments for an hour and a half. Crickets.

Cricket, because am clearly British.

So I will tell you more tomorrow, and congratulations.


Love, Susan Sharon (I cannot WAIT for another SATC person to know who Susan Sharon is.) (CANNOT WAIT!!!)