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2004-10-07 @ 1:00 a.m.
charles in charge


  • Car bombs in the Gaza Strip and Iraq


  • Genocide in Sudan


  • Nuclear weapons in North Korea


  • But what is the world media elbowing each other in the head to get a picture of?

    Martha Stewart carrying her overnight suitcase into Camp Cupcake in West Virginia.

    I really had to shake my head yesterday when I was watching "Entertainment Tonight" and they had a digital clock in the corner of the screen with the countdown until our favorite carver of perfect pumpkins and folder of perfect napkins, was to walk into prison for cheating at the stock market. Now what is wrong with this picture? This woman shows people how to arrange flowers and peel onions without crying. She sells sheets at K-Mart for crissakes. Has she ever even BEEN to K-Mart?

    I mean, I could be Martha Stewart. My hair flops over my eye. My voice is monotone. I grow flowers. I could probably carve a cucumber into the Eiffel Tower. I could wear beige.

    What I really want to see is Martha�s jail cell, after a few additions. A Martha Everyday K-Mart coverlet with green daisies. Fresh flowers arranged accordingly. And of course, Martha�s new bitch, Betty. She just better know a little about taking orderscolor coordinating Martha�s sheets, otherwise the next seven months are going to be hell, being pent-up with a cranky domestic goddess.

    And speaking of cranky, my mom and I were quite the pair yesterday. I�m still smarting from no communication from Married Guy and my mom is cranky because she�s my mom and also because she�s my mom, and oh, her car is broken too. I did see �A� in the morning, and he was very kind and thoughtful in dealing with my broken heart. He even offered to call Married Guy to see what was up, but I said no. I�m sort of at an impasse. I even had a crazy idea to send Married Guy some flowers with a humorous note yesterday, but then I thought, you�re an idiot, witty. He�s obvious ticked at you, why do something irritating? I mean MORE irritating.

    I had told �A� that I notice everytime I tell people the truth about how I feel, it usually spells the end of my relationship, which of course, isn�t a very good impetus for telling the truth. But he reminded me, that I usually wait to tell the truth, after I�ve let about 300 disastrous torturous things happen to me and I can�t take it anymore. He said its better to tell someone you�re upset with them sooner, that way things don�t fester. Yeah, that makes sense...if only I had the courage to do that.

    I do, however, somehow have to courage to show my displeasure with my mom�s annoying ways. She had made me angry earlier in the week by using guilt to get me to do something. And it was something she could have simply asked me to do. But she had given me $30 last month so I wouldn�t bounce any checks, and now she expects me to be at her beck and call 24/7. So that $30 actually works out to be more like a $300,000 in terms of time and pain-in-the-assedness that I have to endure from my mother. And I knew that was coming, and yet I took the money anyways. What an idiot!

    So we made each other totally miserable yesterday. I was a bitch. And she was just plain annoying. �A� has this thing he says to me, when he wants to tick me off. He�ll tell me �I think people OWE me something�. Nothing could be further from the truth. I don�t feel like anyone owes me anything. I mean, if somebody steps on my foot, I APOLOGIZE.

    But my mother, on the other hand, thinks everyone owes her everything. It�s almost a pathological with her. Probably about every third meal in a restaurant is free to her. If she gets a bill that seems a little high, she�ll feign unhappiness. And I think that is dishonest. The other night at Denney�s, she ordered a senior citizen�s hamburger. When it came it was very small. She bitched about it to the waitress, who said she could get the regular Denney�s hamburger but it would be $1.00 more. My mom said okay and was laughing with the waitress about it. ha, ha. ha.

    So she got her new burger. It looked delicious. Steam was rising out of it. It was huge. And she immediately turned to me as soon as the waitress walked away and said, �the cheese isn�t melted.� I pretty much knew what that meant. The Mom-o-Rama Free Meal Switch-a-rooni. So I immediately left the restaurant afterwards, since I can�t stomach the petty larceny she commits everytime she complains to the management. The end result? She didn�t pay for her hamburger, and she also got a coupon for another free meal the next time we come.

    ...because the cheese wasn�t melted. Oy.

    But my great walking adventures along the lake have continued. I think I�m actually walking off some substantial amounts of anger this week. I�ve hit the 20 mile mark for this week, which I think is probably my personal best. So, how pissed are you witty? Oh, about 20 miles worth.

    Today was pretty uneventful though. I again skipped art with the crazy crazies for a 4.5 mile walk on the lake. I love autumn and the weather is so great at the moment, that I don�t want to miss one second of it. My legs are pretty sore at the moment (my masseuse, Married Guy, is M.I.A.), but I finally picked up some Aleve today, so hopefully that will help my pain a little. I also have fibromaylgia, so I�m probably a little more susceptible to pain that others. And OH WAIT, I WALKED 20 MILES THIS WEEK. Yay me.

    I did go to my drawing class tonight and we�re back to our skinny model regime. Damn. And we�re also back to this one particular model Laurel, who is a nice young woman, but she is so heavily rotated in the schedule that I am pretty sick of drawing her. She�s like there every 4 weeks, plus when I took a 5 week drawing class this summer she was there 4 of the 5 weeks. So I�ve probably seen her naked more than her boyfriend. About the only thing different about her tonight was that she got her hair cut, so I concentrated on head.

    Class was initially a little chaotic because Charlemagne the Obnoxious French Guy, was somehow been put in charge of things tonight. And he was fumbling through everything, dropping money, trying to distribute used tickets, playing music from �The Lion King� (instead of our usual fare...Beatles, B52s, Mozart, B.B. King, the theme from �Spiderman� TV show). I got there at the same time as my potential art class husband #2 �K� who has been somewhat elusive, and we stood very closely to each other, teasing Charlemagne. I called him �Charles in Charge�. �K� laughed. Charlemagne did kind of a mock snarl at me and said not to make fun of him. I also managed to elbow poor �K� rather sharply in the chest with my elbow when I was looking for something in my purse. Felt like an idiot, but �K� didn�t seem to mind. He was more effervescent than usual tonight. Hope I acted like I was enjoying his company and not being a zombie-girl.

    Later during snack time I joined Charlemagne and another guy at the table. I was mainly scarfing up tortilla chips with french onion dip. Charlemagne once again brought up the fact that we are both nominated for a position on the board. I had amazingly seen him yesterday in the grocery store parking lot, and he had mentioned it then too. I guess its a big thing on his mind. I�m not really thinking about it that much, because I don�t even know if there are two positions. I think there is only one, and it should probably go to Charlemagne, since I believe he is capable of one huge if not monumental hissy fit if he doesn�t get it.

    But I got him good tonight. He�s obviously a little paranoid, so I told him I had a really good idea I was going to bring up at the next board meeting. He asked what it was...you know, as in order to steal it, and I wouldn�t tell him. Ha! It�s really no biggie. I was just going to suggest that we punch up our website a little more and maybe add more photos of what the class is like. I figure a lot of people are on the internet, especially students from the local university and if they see a cool website, maybe they�ll wonder over and see what its all about.

    He couldn�t stand it though. He was doing the GUY thing. The I�m so cute, you can tell me (grin, grin). He then asked me what time it was (ahem there�s a clock on the wall, but whatever), and I didn�t have my glasses on but I thought it was 9:15. He then grabbed my wrist and nearly flung me backwards into the French Onion dip to see what my watch said. He said no, its 9:20. I said, no, its 9:15. I finally had this nearby teenaged kid look at my watch and he said it was 9:15. And then Charlemagne said it was because my Mickey Mouse watch was a knock-off.

    Huh? A knock-off? Of course its a real Mickey Mouse watch. I�ve had Mickey Mouse watches for like 20 years. So I told him, �Well, I was going to tell you about my great idea for the board meeting, but since you called my watch a knock off, forget it.�

    Him: Wait!!

    I wasn�t really mad. I was just being facetious, and Charlemagne is very easy to tease.

    Charles in Charge. Indeed.


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