2004-09-15 @ 11:37 p.m.
Here is your Aquarius horoscope for Wednesday, September 15:
You're eager for new experiences, and so ready for someone to come along with a whole pack of stories you (blessedly) haven't heard yet. Don't be afraid to go looking for them yourself.
Well, yippie-cay-yay for such a positive, hope-filled message but oy, the pressure, the pressure.
Okay, sure I’m eager for new experiences and ready for someone new to come along with a pack of new stories (Or I could just click on a few new diaryland diaries! I know “A”, wrong answer), but then when they got to the part where I would actually have to go looking for them. I was like WTF? You mean they don’t deliver? You know, like from the “Someone to come along with a whole pack of stories you (blessedly) haven’t heard yet” store. What a scandal. I mean a place like that could be the next Walmart. Or a premise for a new reality show... The “People vying to get to my front door first, so that they can fall in love with me” Show.
That seems like a perfectly reasonable premise to me. “A” is always telling me that nobody is going to knock on my door for a date. But wouldn’t it be funny to prove him wrong? heh, heh. And also wouldn’t it be funny for me to become the star of my own reality series and make lots of money and have Donald Trump send a limo and Paris Hilton call me for dieting tips? Wouldn’t it?
Can you tell I’m PMSing and typing without any adult supervision? Man, oh man, mix PMS with that new Diet Coke with lime and you’ve got trouble. And my God witty, get a grip, your horoscope says that EVERY Wednesday.
So can I change my astrology sign? I really want to be a Leo. At least they’re outgoing and flamboyant and people notice them, and they’re usually stars of Broadway shows and shit.
So today was Art with the Crazy Crazies and again I had to push myself to go. I’m actually starting to feel a little embarrassed about the whole thing because I’m the only one at “Creative Expressions” group between 1:30-3:30. It’s kind of become the Wittykitty Solo Creativity Extravaganza. Except its in this dull little office with florescent lighting and crazy people are wondering in and out. I feel so conspicuous sitting in there by myself painting or drawing. Kind of like the Elephant Man. Come see the freak with a paint brush and manic depression. It's STU-pen-dous!
But I try not to think about it. I turn on the radio and try to come up with something clever to paint or draw. I used to always bring an art book or magazine with me for inspiration, but recently I keep forgetting and have had to depend on my
I actually kind of scared myself, because it was pretty good. What’s going on here? And then I realized why. I was imitating the style of painting that Married Guy’s wifie does. She does a lot of bucolic, county nature scenes with flowers and cows, and they are painted in the exact manner that I did today. Of course she is way better than me, but still, looking at it, I was like EEP, I’m channeling wifie.
But I guess if the work is good, I can do it surreptitiously. And then claim that I’m really just doing it myself. Who knew?
So I went to my figure drawing class tonight. K, my potential art class husband #2, did not show again. I guess I will be giving up on him for now.
But the ever-obnoxious Charlemagne, the Obnoxious French Guy did, and he once again, parked his skinny French ass right next to me, even making a girl in a wheelchair move, so he could “get closer to the model” (cough...me). I did get slightly suspicious in him doing so, especially after my conversation with “A” yesterday about using Charlemagne as a willing sex-slave in the wittykitty quest to get laid before year’s end. “A” knows this guy. I could just see him calling him up and saying, “You know that shy girl with the anarchy necklace...Yeah her. Well, she needs a “special kind of love” Charlemagne. A special kind of love, that I know only you can give her. But be gentle, otherwise you’ll scare her away...”
And since all guys are total sex-hounds, I’m sure he accepted the assignment without much cause for alarm. Because tonight he was really decent and nice. Not so off the wall and wacko. He even dressed nicely and it looked like his hair was combed for the first time ever.
So how much did you pay him “A”? A free art class?
We talked several times and he was trying to get me to sign up for a street festival this weekend. Our drawing group will be out on the street drawing a model for most of the day, and of course, I’m way to shy to draw in front of people. I told him if I drew anything, people would go run screaming down the street. He, of course, poo-poo’d such a notion and then said, “Your artwork is so cool. I love your work. You’re one of the coolest artist here.”
Whoa. I think you almost just erased everything destructive my mother ever said to me since 1958. Oh, false alarm.
So did “A” pay you extra to say that?
But I just can’t bring myself to draw in public anyways. I will definitely drop by our booth and say hi to everyone, but other than that, forget it. No public displays of drawing. E-V-E-R!!
One funny thing did happen during our drawing session tonight. Every week a woman, who I believe has cerebral palsy is brought to the class in a wheelchair. She is pretty severely disabled and can barely hold a paint brush, but at least she makes an effort and she seems to enjoy it.
Usually she is cared for by an African American man, who sits nearby reading a magazine during the class, but tonight he just dropped her off and she was being assisted by this young African American woman. She was probably about 20. And when the model dropped her robe for the first time, the woman gasped and then fell into a fit of giggles. I guess she didn’t realize that there was going to be a NUDE woman on the premises and it surprised her. But she was totally giggling.
Yeah, nude people make me giggle too. Some more than others.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty