2005-03-12 @ 12:13 a.m.
Days since I last saw actual green grass underneath the snow:
Days since I saw someone outside walking in shorts: 0. Some guy walked up behind me in a smoke shop today, where I was paying my utility bill and had on some shorts. Its snoooowing outside. Its 20 degrees. Oh, that’s right, its almost Spring. I forgot.
Days since I was last annoyed by a stupid driver: 0. Hey asshat in the SUV who was behind me today. If you think blowing your horn when I’m stopped at a stoplight will magically make me put my foot on the gas pedal and go, think again, Sparky.
Days since I last had an orgasm: About 10. I’m really slipping up here. I have all these awesome new sex toys and they’re under the bed having a meeting with the Cat Fur/Dust Bunny Association. Hop to it girlfriend!
Days since I saw someone naked, besides my lovely self: 2. If anyone has ever fantasized about how that chubby, fifty-something Eye-talian lady who works down at the bakery looks naked, here it is...
This woman has modeled for our drawing class several times and she is the only nude model who has ever smiled while she poses. I bet she’s thinking about canoles.
Days since I last had Married Guy’s hand on my naked ass: Hmmm. Tough one. Probably about 125. And I have missed that experience every single day, since it last happened.
Days since I last saw a movie with Jean Claude Van Damme: What? Are you crazy? I don’t watch movies with people like that!
Days since Woody Allen made a really good movie: 20,000?
Days since I pulled my bathroom sink drain plug out and discovered it was growing anthrax: 5. How did that happen? All I do is spit my toothpaste junk into the sink and wash my hands, yet when I pulled out the drain thingie, it looked like a miniature version of the Creature from the Black Lagoon. Ewwww!!!! Gross!!!
Days since I last saw green grass under the snow: 300. Oh wait, I already said that one.
Days since I last slept a full 8 hours: Never
Days since I last had fun?: About 850. The last time I had fun was when I went down to NYC 2 1/2 years ago and my wonderful friend “G” treated me to two Broadway shows in a single day and then took me out to this famous theatrical restaurant where Broadway actor types hang out. “G” momentarily thought he saw Nathan Lane from “The Producers”, but then it turned out to be someone less famous.
Days since my Dad passed away: 742 if I did the math right. He died March 23, 2003. I miss him so much. He used to call me twice a week and we’d always talk about the same two things: The weather and our cats. That is until he got Alzheimer’s. And then we only talked about the weather.
Days since I felt insecure and invisible: 0
Days since Married Guy uttered those three words I really wanted to hear: 736. Well, actually 0, if I had wanted him to say, “I’m leaving wifie”. But the first time he verbally told me he loved me was on St. Patrick’s Day 2003. How appropriate for two Irish people. Of course, I had given him a St. Patrick’s Day card that day in which I wrote “I love you” in Gaelic. I had to go into an Irish chatroom online and ask someone how to say it. They all wished me well.
Days since I was delusional enough to believe that someone was in love with me: 736
Days since I scanned my breast on the scanner: Ummm. 104. :-)
Days since some random guy talked to me in a public place: 6. SCORE! Yeah, I guess I’m not totally invisible, because last week at the gym, when I was looking all delicious in my tight pink tank top, which really seems to arouse my nipples for some reason, some business man in a suit was walking down the hallway and when he walked by, he did a double take. Like, Hmmm.
and then he slowed down, so that I could catch up with him and he talked to me. He looked kind of lawyer-y. But then I got to the door of the locker room and headed in and never saw Lawyer-Boy again. And to think how adorable our kids would have been.
Days since I last gave out my business card for no particular reason except that I have some and gee, wouldn’t it be fun to actually give one out: 7. Last week at the opening reception for my art show, our Fearless Art Leader noticed that the Professional Artist guy was shooting pictures around the gallery of both his art and of people, including me (maybe he wants to do a nude drawing of me, and needed a reference shot). Anyways, F.A.L. told him that I do the monthly newsletter and that if he had any good shots, that maybe he could send them to me. So I whipped out my rather ugly boring business card from work and wrote my e-mail address on the back of it. Why did I suddenly feel like Tara Reid at a singles bar? Unfortunately, I’ve never gotten anything. Wah!
Days since I’ve answered a call on my cell phone: Never. Ha! I still don’t know how to use it after having it for 4 months.
Days since I last ate chocolate: Days! Ha, ha! I’m afraid measuring my time away from chocolate would really have to be done in hourly increments.
Days since I bought something defective off E-Bay: 3. Grrrr! this is the first time I have ever gotten anything broken or defective off E-Bay. I bought a copy of the movie “Pollock” (about my favorite artist), put it in the VCR, and it was all snow, no matter how much I fiddled with the tracking. Damn. It was less than $5 with shipping so I don’t even know if its worth returning. Damn. I really wanted that movie.
Days since I touched my boobs in a sensual way: Again, we have to measure this in hourly increments, since I am truly obsessed with the girls. So, lets just say (cough) 1 minute ago and leave it at that.
Days since I felt up a few cucumbers at the grocery store: I’m trying to cut down on my public displays of affection, so 14.
Days since I last had sex: Whoops, we’re out of space....
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty