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2005-01-11 @ 9:28 p.m.
two are always better than one, especially if you're a guy



Last night was a board meeting for my art group. Fortunately there was no snow, so I was able to get over there with no ill consequences. We met at this large building which is set up against some woods. Its the same building where I used to put together a political newspaper with Married Guy, so there are a lot of memories when I walk in the building. I try not to think about them, but its hard when I walk by our old office.

Normally there are two women on the board but neither of them showed up last night, so it was just witty and five men. Booya! And I looked smashing of course, in my full bohemian artist regalia. The way I look and dress has really changed drastically in the last couple of years. I used to wear baggy jeans, big boxy sweat shirts and have a short straight pageboy haircut. I kinda looked like a soccer mom (not that there�s anything wrong with the soccer moms, its just that I've never had anything to do with mom-ness or soccer). But now I wear tight jeans, tight black sweaters, black boots and long, layered wavy hair. And the beret, if I go outside. And the large John Lennon glasses, if I want to SEE.

Yeah, how totally pretentious, huh? Yup. Why not? I guess at age 46, I�m finally figuring out who I MIGHT be, since up this point, I�ve only been mirroring the people I�ve been in love with.

wait...I just wanted that to sink in for a moment. I�m being who I really am...what a concept.

Anyhoo, so I was sitting at this long table with five men. I know the older married jewish guy is sort of enamored with me. When we had our meeting out at his house last summer, he had given me a grand tour of his house and garden and seemed kind of starry eyed that the cute witty girl seemed so interested in his belongings. I was really only being nice, since he was the host and all, but now everytime he sees me, he always wants to brag about his stuff to me. Like last night he was telling me about his weight loss (hey witty, that�s your cue to say, wow, you look great there, Herzog) and then he showed me an antique photo of his great grandfather in L.I. and asked if I thought he looked like him. He did. ...Now why are you showing me your family photos at a board meeting? He then gave me a lollipop and told me it only had 5 carbs. Oh, good. eeehhh?

Charlemagne the Obnoxious French Guy was also there. I haven�t seen him since last summer. He was sporting a smaller shiner. I guess he must have been obnoxious one too many times. He looked good though, and was his usual yack-a-thon self. Man, that guy talks alot. Muzzle, anyone?

When I got there, everyone was already there, even though I was early. I usually sit by �J�, my original potential art class husband who turned out to be married, but last night I decided to be waaaay bold and sit at the other end of the table with �K�, my second potential art class husband. He hasn�t been coming to class much recently, so our fledgling, as in non-existent, �relationship� is pretty much croak-a-mundo. But he seemed pleased that I came back and sat with him. And then throughout the night he kept turning back towards me with verbal asides, which I think might have been potentially funny, but he talks so softly, I missed about 95% of them. But like any loser old maid single woman, I smiled at every joke and made out like he was the funniest guy in the entire fucking universe. Oh yeah! Working it, baby! But then I started to wonder...working what? I guess I�m not really sure, since I�m not really sure if �K� is even worth working. He seems like a nice guy, and all, but crimany, we�ll be 97 years old and NOT getting social security because of the Bush administration, before he ever tries anything. And that fate seemed particularly sealed when we left together (I had purposely parked my car next to his when I arrived. See how proactive I was!!) and we had trouble coming up with conversation walking up the back stairs.

Me: Bladdy blah blah (boring stuff, boring stuff), Blah, blah...

Him: Uh huh, Bladdy, bluh, bluh, (boring, boring, boring beyond belief) blah, blah, blah. It�s really cold out. blah, blah

Me: Yeah, its cold out. blah, blah. blah. bye.

Ha! I just thought of something. Maybe his inability to come up with anything interesting to say, makes him a perfect candidate for a husband! ha, ha, ha.

Or maybe I was just making him nervous. That could be. Its not that I�m really that much of a stunner, but I have been noticing in the last couple of weeks, that men appear to have an extra set of muscles in their necks...muscles used solely for swiveling around and doing a flat out double take every time they see a nice looking chick walking by. I have seen it repeatedly. It�s like boys, can�t you at least show a little decorum, when you�re with your spouse or significant other and your head suddenly snaps backwards like you just got hit with a freakin� right hook? I�m never sure whether to be flattered or pissed off that these guys can�t seem to keep their eyes to themselves.

Sure I want to be adored and idolized by the general male population, but nothing ever comes of it. I realize part of it is my fault, because once they look, I usually look down, but I figure if I�m really that stunning to you, you might want to risk a second look and say hello. I�ll usually say hello back. Honest! I had this one guy walk out of an elevator the other day and when he saw me he glanced up momentarily, looked down and then threw his head back so violently to get a second look, he nearly got whiplash. It was actually pretty funny. Yes, I�m adorable. So what of it?

Our meeting was fairly lively, and way better than the one at work earlier in the day. I guess because it was a bunch of creative people. �J� was fairly able to keep things on track, except when Charlemagne got tangled up in the sharp increase in the price of snacks and had to keep adding addendum after addendumb, making �K�, who was taking notes for the meeting get writer�s cramp.

We were trying to figure out some new ways to make money since we lost one of our grants this year. One idea was to enable artists who come to the class to have a one night show in the classroom. We figure it would bring in a few extra people for each of their show with minimal expense. The name of the event? One Night Stand. heh, heh. Good one. I guess when I take one of those many diaryland surveys I take every year, I�d finally be able to give a qualified YES to the One Night Stand question. The married jewish man didn�t like it though. He thought it was too suggestive. Really?

Exactly. We are a bunch of people who draw nekkid people every week. We aren�t exactly accepted wholeheartedly by everyone in the entire community. In fact, I�m sure some people around town think we�re pervs. I personally think there�s nothing wrong with a naked body as long as everyone agrees on the time and place of the nakedness.

Another idea we came up with was to have two people pose naked at the same time. There was a low murmur of approval amongst the men punctuated with a few �oook oook� noises like Tim Allen used to make. And then somebody brought up a valid question. Would it be two women or a couple? (notice how the possibility of TWO MEN was not even addressed). The married jewish man said it would have to be something accepted by the GP, and Charlemagne looked at him, kind of perplexed and said, �GP?�, does that stand for Gay People?� I just shook my head. And then �K�, my potential art class husband #2, was suddenly all about the two female models posing together. �Yes, two women together would be good for me.�

Oh, Little �K�....who knew??

So no decisions were really made, except that we are going to have some live music for one class and on January 26 we�re having Australia Day. Not really sure what that is going to entail, except that the model is ACE, and I�m hoping he has a full house. :-)

This morning was my weekly appointment with the ever energetic �A�. And yes �A�, you were certainly energetic today. Unfortunately I can�t really talk about my appointment since it was very personal today. About the only real benefit was that I had been all physically crunched up with physical pain and anxiety and after I left, I felt uncrunched, at least physically.

Afterwards I went to my doctor for my booster shot for hepititus. I was about a half hour late because �A� had been running late. And because I was late they didn�t have any rooms available so they wanted to give me the shot right out in the middle of the hallway. Unfortunately I was wearing a tight black sweater and was unable to roll up the arm of the sweater. So they asked if I minded slipping my sweater off in the hallway. You mean as in down to my brassiere? HUH?? I may be a nudist at home, but disrobing in a busy hallway with men, women and children running about wasn�t really an option. So I bluntly told them I wasn�t really into flashing. They all sort of looked at the ground. Finally one of the nurses asked if I wanted to go into the bathroom to get the shot. I have some major issues with bathrooms, but I agreed, so we went in there and I had to unbutton my sweater in order to pull it off my shoulder. So it was just me and nursie, as I was unbuttoning my sweater. I had on my sexy purple bra today and I was suddenly and inexplicably thinking... Gah. ya wanna see my sexy purple bra, nurse ratched? It felt really weird because the bathroom was kind of dark and I was taking my clothes off with a stranger standing there looking in the mirror at me. It would have felt different being in an examining room. And then for a split second it felt kind of sexy as I reached the bottom button. Hmmm. Do I just rip the whole damn sweater off and give her a titty-licious show, or just demurely strip it off one shoulder for my shot? I was kind of worked up from my session with �A� and it could have gone either way. But I was good. She just jabbed that little SOB in my arm and I screamed like a little girl and then it was over.

After eating some Chinese food at the yuppie store, I headed over to the �Y� for some whirlpool time, since my ass is still sore as hell. It was very nice and peaceful. Guess all the rugrats are in school. When I went to get in the whirlpool, there was this big huge woman sitting in there who yelled �Stop!!�, which really startled me and I was like �What???� nearly stumbling off the top step. �Is your watch waterproof!?!?� Me: Yeah. And then she had to give me the entire history of every watch she ever owned. Fortunately, she was only in there for about 5 minutes.

Once she got out, I closed my eyes, trying to recover from my session with �A�, and then the strangest thing happened. I felt like I was floating and the hot bubbling water was really turning me on. That has never happened before. So I just kept my eyes closed for a good ten minutes, letting my pelvic region have its little playtime, and then climbed out, feeling kind of dizzy. I was actually more than dizzy, I was totally buzzed. So I headed to the showers, where I rocked my own world in the last stall on the right. I know...bad witty. But it was just a quickie, and when you�re in your 40�s, you can�t afford to miss any opportunities when they present themselves.

I was a little at odds for the rest of the afternoon. After the pool, I bought some painting canvases with the self made promise that I would get my feelings down in paint, but I�ve yet to do anything. I�m really tired and depressed and confused. I guess I�m also anxious because I got some paperwork from social security today. They want to know if I�m still crazy after 4 years on disability, and I think the simple one word answer to that is....�YES�.


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