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2005-04-15 @ 10:37 p.m.
Partly cloudy with a chance of cat ass


I am not a morning person. Nor have I ever been. Even as a kid, I remember laying in my bed, which backed up to the living room wall and listening to the opening theme of the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. And I think I must have also listened to his monologues because I vaguely remember performing them at my Brownie meetings.

I was a weird kid though. I remember once I watched my cat have kittens when I was about 7 and I was totally fascinated by the whole process. I had a lot of questions for my mom, naturally, like why were there kitties coming out of Cocoaís butt? And why were they in those funny looking little goopy sacks. And then my mom made the mistake of telling me they werenít sacks, but Zip Lock Baggies. The kitties were coming out in Zip Lock Baggies so that it wouldnít be messy.

Well, I guess you can probably guess what my next show and tell at the Brownies was about. An elaborate explanation about how my cat had gotten into our kitchen cabinets and eaten a bunch of Zip Lock Baggies and then pooped out kittens into them. Our Brownie Leader was mortified. I even had a very brief question and answer period when all my Brownie buddies started eagerly raising their hands to learn more about Zip Lock Kitty phenomenon. Needless to say a call was placed to my mother.

So, what was I talking about? Oh, not being a morning person. It could be because I have really bad insomnia. I donít watch the Tonight Show anymore (Iím a David Letterman devotee), but I do tend to be doing things like at 2 a.m. And 3 a.m. Look at the times on some of the diary entries. I had been taking Ambien for several years, but it just totally fried my brain so I quit about 2 months ago. ďAĒ had suggested that maybe I should go do a sleep study down at the local sleep center. I just canít imagine that though. Being locked in a room with electrodes attached to me and people watching me. A total wet dream for a paranoid but still....

I would like to know why I canít sleep. I donít drink caffeine after about 1 p.m. I donít eat sugar after about 5. I get plenty of exercise (Iíve walked about 10 miles this week, so far). But I just canít sleep. So Iíve been getting by on about 4 hours of sleep lately. And Iím not sure if Iím able to do that because Iím a manic bipolar or because I have a strong constitution and refuse to give up.

I guess I donít want to miss anything!

But this morning, I did miss a little thing. I had to get to a meeting at work at 8:45. To me 8:45 is about like 5 a.m. to everyone else. I basically rolled out of bed, ran to the bathroom, ate some raisin bran, petted Guard Cat, brushed my teeth, got dressed and left. It all took under 10 minutes. Iím very low maintenance. But as I was driving to work, very bleary eyed, I happened to look in my rear view mirror at a stop light and saw a very strange thing. I had a large gob of tooth paste on my chin and a substantial chunk of my hair was stuck in it. Arghhh! So I quickly pulled my hair out of the toothpaste and then attempted to lick the toothpaste off my chin, aíla Gene Simmons in a KISS video. I mean, I had my head craned towards the mirror with my tongue darting chinward when I suddenly felt the strangest sensation. Like I was being watched. And I slowly turned to the car on the right and some guy was watching me in utter fascination.

Coming soon to an adult video store near you: Tongue (2005).

My meeting at work was boring. I went home for lunch and watched the noon news. Ever notice how they cast newscasters? They always either have an older man and a young, fresh dewy girl in her twenties or an older woman and a much younger man. Not sure what the thinking is behind this. I personally find it kind of creepy.

Anyways, our local channels are especially guilty of this May/December coupling thing. On the noon news, for instance, we have the elderly news woman with a blonde pixie cut. Sheís a local institution. Sheís been on television since it was invented. And sheís got her boy...Chris the weather boy. And he truly is a boy. He shops at the same grocery store as I do. Iíve seen him several times, including on Valentineís Day when he was looking for flowers. He looks like a frat boy. He acts like a frat boy. Heís rather goofy, but likeable.

Our tv station has a weather deck. Chris the weather boy and Chris the other weather boy (we have two weather boys named Chris. Arenít we lucky? ) both have to do the weather out on the weather deck no matter what the weather is. About the only thing that brings Chris and Chris indoors is if there is a threat of lightening in the area. Otherwise they are outside even if it is raining, snowing (and God knows we have a lot of that!!!), hot, cold, sleeting, windy, having tornadic activity, or hail. Thereís been times when itís been snowing so heavily you can barely see Chris or Chris or our Weather Cat.

Yes, we have a weather cat. Arenít you jealous? The weather cat actually gets treated better than Chris and Chris. She actually only has to be out there if its sunny and warm. The previous weather cat escaped one day when it got scared and got hit by a car. Is that not sad? Guess she wasnít able to predict that. But we got a new weather cat, and it sometimes washes its ass during the weather report. I love when it does that. Yay weather cat!

ďPartly cloudy with a chance of cat ass.Ē

So where was I? Oh, older woman, younger man. So Baba Walters was squinting through her calendar listings. I live in such a cool city, and Iím sure youíll want to fly here once you hear what is going on this weekend. At the fairgrounds, weíll be hosting, in no particular order ďA Pig ExtravaganzaĒ, ďLadies Night OutĒ and a gun show. See! I told you! Something for everyone! Can you imagine being slightly drunk, after cruising some of our elite drinking establishments over on the west side, and not knowing which door was which? Pigs. Guns. Women. Frankly, I still donít really know what a Pig Extravaganza is. Are we eating them? Or looking at them? Or buying clocks that oink? What? Iím so curious I may just have to head over there to see what is happening. I havenít had any pork chops in a while anyways.

After BaBa Walters finished reading her calendar items, they switched over Live to Chris out on the weather deck. I think heís afraid of the weather cat. He really doesnít interact much with her much like the other Chris. Maybe she bit him. Anyways, Chris the weather boy was really excited about all the good weather weíve been having. I have to laugh at our local media though. We have like the worldís worst weather where I live. So when we get like 4 days in a row of sun, people start getting nervous. And then when we get like 7 days in a row of sun, its like the freakiní Apocalypse. The earth is drying up....worms are committing mass suicide on sidewalks and suddenly we are on the precipice of having THE WORST DROUGHT IN HISTORY!!!!!!!!!!! Fuck, I grew up in Northern California. It didnít rain from March until November. At all. Not even a drop. The earth out in our back yard was so hard, that you needed a jackhammer to plant an Iris bulb.

But Chris was all excited about the warm temperatures that were coming up this weekend. And evidently so was the elderly Baba Walters, because she asked Chris if he was going to be doing the weather in his shorts.

In his shorts? Oh my goodness. How utterly shocking. Ahh, donít really think you should be discussing your Naughty Weather Boy/Older Newscaster role playing thingie on the noon news, do you?

But Chris covered pretty well. He looked down at the ground, rather embarrassed and then said, ďWell, Baba, I think weíll have to ask management about whether Iíll be doing the weather in my shorts. (grinning shyly). Well, maybe....Ē

It was just totally dripping in double entendre. Even the weather cat was embarrassed.

The last couple of days have been pretty darn good though. Iíve been walking a lot. Iíve been hitting the trails at Round Lake, which is a lake created by a glacier. Itís really beautiful. It has this really weird condition. Its called mixmictric. The lower and upper levels of the water in the lake donít mix. Only a few lakes in the world have this. It makes the water super clear and very turquoise looking. Iíve actually been going out there every day this week, because starting on May 1st they are going to start charging $7 to get in. At the moment, its free. They used to only charge the entrance fee from Labor Day to Memorial Day, but then the politicians got greedy (isnít that an oxymoron? Greedy politician?) so now its from May 1 until October 1...the bastards.

I did end up going to that Adirondacks Club thing last weekend. I borrowed my momís car after much consternation. I drove up to that lake (a different one from the mysterious glacier lake). I had thought that the Adirondacks Club thing was an actual organized hike, where I would get to walk with some folks around the lake. Unfortunately when I got there, I realized it was only an Open House with a bunch of flyers and photos from their outings. I was also a little disappointed with the clientele. I thought there would be a bunch of people in my age range. Instead it was a bunch of leathery old tree huggers in their 60ís. I didnít see one person who even remotely interested me and this was after all, a wittykitty re-con mission. Meet single men who like to hike. Instead I met their grandparents. Ugh.

I did walk around the lake though. It was a three mile hike. It was very pleasant. Heard some frogs croaking and saw a lot of Canadian geese. I wish I would have had someone with me. You know, to protect me from those uber-dangerous carnivorous ankle bitie toads. I didnít actually see any, but I knew they were there. Lurking. Waiting. For something tasty like witty quarter pounder.

Thursday was my final painting class. And no shrieking giggling ninnies!! Yay! The class really shrunk. It started out at about 12-14 people I think and on Thursday, there were only about 4 of us left. I really shot myself in the foot though. Instead of trying something easy, I decided to bring in a painting by my girl Frida Kahlo. What a huge mistake. It was way too much painting for someone who has as little experience as me. Plus I had a bigger canvas than usual. I guess I just love jumping in feet first without looking. How totally bipolar of me. I think I was getting cocky too, with my two other nice paintings. The teacher had been glowing about my work, and suddenly I was witty Monet.

The hottie art teacher did have some fun with me. He was helpful when he saw that I was getting frustrated and struggling. But he was also teasing me about how fast I work. Everytime he walked by heíd say oh, you just painted an entire cactus in five minutes. Thatís good. And then nod his head smiling. (ahem, there was no cactus in the painting, but whatevah!). And of course, that made me want to take another class with him. The smart ass. He has another class starting next Thursday. Its a portraiture class. Iím not really sure if I want to draw humans. I do that every week in my other group. But I donít get any instruction in my Wednesday class. Iím pretty much left up to my devices and still donít really know how to draw very accurately. But then the hottie art teacher said some truly magical words. Our model was going to be named Antonio.

Antonio. You mean the new love of my life and future fuck-buddy? As if...witty.

The teacher must have seen my face change when he said a male name for the model (Iím so transparent, it seems), because he teased me about that too. He did sadly remind me that this model was clothed and then smiled. (He knows about my association with the nude drawing class). So weíll see.

Lastly, I was filling up my car yesterday and I happened to look one row over at the gas pumps, and who do I see but Mark, the Exhibitionist Male Model from Wednesday night. He was just standing there calmly filling up his fancy gray Saturn. He was all nicely dressed in his crisp white shirt with a tie and gray pants. Its always weird when you see one of our nude models in public with their clothes on because for some reason, you just donít recognize them. People look different with clothes on. And you certainly donít want to yell out, ďHey, you really look different with you clothes onĒ or ďHey, I really liked you in your drag queen outfit last night!!Ē But I just chuckled seeing him look all normal-like without his penis on display. Iím funny that way.


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