Here is your horoscope for Sunday, October 17:
A friend's introduction is all you'll need to run smack into someone you won't forget. So what's the holdup? Either accept the invitation, or start asking your friends who it is you're destined to meet.
Well, my horoscope has once again taunted me. Who IS this mysteriously wonderful person I'm destined to meet? I keep hearing about him over and over. You're going to meet this someone. You're going to meet this someone soon. The planets are going to line up in some incredible configuration that will enable a total
loser winner like yourself to have a date.
God? Can you do something for me? Can you speed up the horoscopey thing? What? What's that? Well, no, I haven't been to church in a couple of years. What? You'll only consider helping me if I go to church and pray everyday for the next 48 months and 12 days? But I'll be nearly 50 by then. Who will want a date with me? What's that? The lesbian from the art gallery? Argh. Never mind, I'll just wait.
Unfortunately though, I just can't seem to find that one person with my bar code imprinted on their DNA. Where are they? Do they even live on the East Coast? How am I ever going to find them? And if I do, how will I even know them? Will I be able to look up and see their face and just instinctively know? God, I hope so. And hopefully, before 50.
I had a bit of a scare this morning. It was only scary because I'm a goofball. I had just woken up. I sleep naked of course. And I usually walk around in the buff when I first get up. Anyways, I had just gone to the bathroom, and suddenly my doorbell rang.
How common is this? Oh, maybe once every six months. And I was naked. And the front door was between me and any pieces of clothing.
I had to, of course, see who was out there, but I didn't exactly want to fling open the curtains and give some Jehovah Witness a reason to convert. So I stooped down briefly and peeked out the curtains, and saw the lower half of a man standing there. He was wearing Levi jeans.
Now, why did I get so freaked out? Because there was a MAN-person at my front door on a Sunday morning and I was just on the other side of my door stark naked? Well, a little, but my real feelings of terror and/or anxiety, was that I thought it was Married Guy standing there. He has Levi's. He's really the only person who knows where I live besides my mother.
My heart started pounding really hard at the thought he might be standing out there. Was he there to yell at me? Reconcile with me? Shoot me with an AK47? I really didn't know. I don't know. Why? Because I have no idea how he's feeling about things. I haven't heard from him in three weeks now so I have no idea how he's taking things... Whether its "Yay, I got rid of the insecure neurotic chick! Or gee, I really miss witty. She was so great!"
I immediately bolted into my bedroom and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater and went back to the front door. I stood there for a good 30 seconds, trying to brace myself for whatever was going to happen, and then I opened the door.
It was my landlord's grandson. He was there to put the glass in my screen door for the winter. Fruck.
I said yes, thank you and then shut the door and experienced mild chest pains and shook for ten minutes. Sheesh. What is wrong with me?
By then, I really needed to get out of the house and even though it was cold and rainy, I headed for Barnes and Nobles. I took some care in getting ready. I didn't want to look like a total Food-stamp, bag lady. It was really crowded there. And I admit...I was looking at books, calendars and men. Well, not really at them. I look more at their shoes. And possibly their knees.
My, what lovely knees you've got. Wanna go on a date?
I did catch a couple of guys looking back though. I always do. I'm not a bad specimen. I just have low self esteem. I did catch one guy overtly checking me out in the calendar section. I could feel him looking at me, and I wanted to get a look at him without being obvious, so I walked behind a rack of calendars and was going to look at him through the holes, but dammit it, if he didn't take a few more steps and joined a woman. Damn married men/boyfriend/significant other!
I then went over to the yuppie grocery store to shop. I hadn't eaten so I went to get a slice of pizza at their little deli-restaurant place. Some guy my age, was standing waiting for his pizza, kibitzing with the counter help. He then made a joke and looked over at me, like I was going to punctuate the conversation with some thrilling verbal bon mot, but instead, I did something very unusual for me.
I smiled at him. Wow. Ya mean, wittykitty smiled? Yeah, it happens occasionally. I know I seem totally grumpy here, but I'm not. I'm just really shy in person.
He smiled back very engagingly and I felt fairly proud that I hadn't gone stone faced on him or looked at the floor like I usually do. Yay me.
He quickly disappeared into the crowd though, so hopefully that was not the person I was supposed to meet in my horoscope. And I can't even remember what he looks like now. Yikes. Maybe that was him. Now what?
I then later stopped briefly at Michael's to pick up a sketch pad on the way home. That place was jammed too. What is this Christmas? Anyways, there were about 7-8 people in line at the counter and I was behind this woman with a little boy. The little boy was sitting in the shopping cart and he was about 4 years old. And cute!! My God, he was so cute my uterus was aching. And he had the longest eye lashes I have ever seen on anyone.
His mother was less cute though. She had about 15-20 huge artificial flowers in her cart and she was trying to pull them out one at a time and count them. They kept falling on the floor and she kept cursing in front of the kid. Ok, whatever. He must have been used to it, because he was ignoring her and just reaching for some pencils by the cash register with big, oversized smiley face erasers.
And to be honest, even though I complained about it recently, I admit I soon was doing the "I only have one item, can I go ahead of you" look at her. She had all her flowers, plus a bunch of little shit in her cart. It didn't work.
And then her son started asking if he could have one of the pencils. She finally gave in after being worn down. But than he had the audacity to pick out a PINK pencil.
Oh my God, you would have thought he just pooped his pants or something. The woman got visibly flustered and grabbed the pencil out of his hand and said, "No. You don't want a pink pencil. Those are for girls!". He started to cry a little and then she looked at me like I was going to support her on this.
Well guess what lady, fuck that! If your son wants a pink pencil. Let him. Its not like picking a pink pencil means he's going to be starring in "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy: The Next Generation" for crissakes.
Finally a second cashier opened up and the glob of people ahead of us started to move and I asked her which cashier she was going to go to. And she turned to me, with her shopping cart firmly planted in the center of the two cashiers and said "Whichever opens first."
She did finally go to the NEXT cashier, but I got out of the store before her. So neener, neener, bitch. I really felt like turning around and saying, "Gee, I hope your son gets that part on "Queer Eye" someday" but I didn't.
I guess I was still feeling good about the guy smiling at me. Yay.
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