2005-04-27 @ 6:12 p.m.
Other than some brief moments here and there, I have been totally surrounded by men for the last 24 hours. Am I excited? Oh yes...totally. They are interesting specimens, after all. I actually really like men. I’d even go so far as to say I like men better than women. Way better. They are so less complicated emotionally. They’re kinda like dogs. You pet them. You say their names and they wag their tails, excited by the attention they’re getting and by gum, that’s about as complicated as it gets.
Women on the other hand would want you to pet them, say their name, compliment their handbag, tell them how beautiful their hair looks, listen to them bitch about cramps, engage in idle gossip, compare recipes, plot revenge for some emotional slight from ten years ago, ask you where you got those cute pants, snark about their ex-boyfriend’s willy, tell you how their boss made a pass at them, admit wrong doing at some soccer mom outing, lie about how much weight they’ve actually lost, recap all the contestants from “Americ@n Idol” for you, talk about how much they’re in love with the UPS guy who comes into their office every day, ask you what color lip gloss you’re wearing because its very becoming with your skin, despite that huge blemish you have on your chin that is currently threatening to block out the sun for the entire Northern Hemisphere by its sheer size.
So can you see why I prefer the company of men? They’re simple. And as long as you realize that they’re thinking about sex every 1.7 minutes, and they might be wondering what you look like naked, its fine.
Like yesterday for instance, I had my meeting with the beeping pants guy. After the meeting, me, “J”, Lady O and The Youngster headed up the street for some lunch. I already knew I was going to Subway, since its the cheapest place in a 4 block radius and I’m collecting those infernal purple stamps for my FREE sub. “J” wanted to go to this really expensive deli where the sandwiches are around $5 each, and I said, “Whatevah...Bye now” So him and Lady O dropped off into that place and then I had the Youngster with me. He was a kid who was hired at the same time as I was last November. He’s a nice kid. And I always like to tease him because he looks like the guy in the “Subway” commercials who lost all the weight by only eating Subway sandwiches. I always tell him that they’ll probably give him a free sub because he’s the guy from the commercials and he shyly grins and looks at the ground and doesn’t know what to say. Hey, if you got an angle, use it.
So we ended up eating lunch together. It was kind of a Demi Moore/Ashton Kutscher thing. I’m 47, he’s 30. Woo hoo! I think he thinks I’m cool, which is good for my ego, but unfortunately, he’s not exactly Ashton Kutscher. He’s a little dorky. I carried most of the conversation (can you imagine? Me carrying a conversation? Its a miracle...Call Lourdes), until he told me he ran into his old girlfriend from high school recently. Who knows, maybe it was 7 years ago and he’s just carrying a torch for her, but he told me how important that relationship was and how it was just the wrong place and the wrong time and that now she was married and had two kids. I was pretty surprised he opened up so much to me. I may act kind of smart alecky in my diary, but I’m a pretty nice person in person. Maybe he felt safe talking about it. I actually felt a little embarrassed by the sudden intimacy. I mentioned Married Guy briefly, telling him, that it was indeed difficult getting over things, but it was obviously meant to be and that he was a really nice person and that I’m sure there would be someone else to come along for him. Gah. And in the preceding meeting I had just teased him about being too nice to one of his clients and rewiring their television and VCR together. He’s always doing stuff like that for people. Last week he fixed my glasses when my lens popped out. He had this little tiny screwdriver in his zip-up datebook and was able to fix it in a jiffy. He’s a nice guy....just not my type, unfortunately.
On Monday night I had a meeting with the art board. I was hoping that Charlemagne the Obnoxious French Guy would be there, so that I could terrorize him (he loves telling me to stop being a bully and doing this extremely humorous pretend crying thing), but he wasn’t there. I guess he’s still on the Other Coast with his luscious, young girlthang. So it was just me and the boys (“JS”, our Fearless Art Leader, the Jewish Guy who always shows me photos of his family and the Sci Fi Guy). I got nominated to be the Recording Secretary. You mean like taking notes at a meeting? ....like actually writing with YOUR HAND? Geeze, the only time I actually handwrite anything is when I write checks.
Fortunately since Charlemagne wasn’t there, we didn’t have to do have all the official “Calling this meeting to order, I second that motion. That motion is denied. All in favor say “Aye” crap. We got so much more done without that. We are still trying to figure out how we are going to try and enforce some new rules. Photography, of course, is not allowed in our drawing class, but with the proliferation of cell phones that can take pictures, we’ve been hit several times with people snapping pictures of our nudes. So we’re trying to think of a polite way to tell the pervs not to snap. This is a drawing class after all. We don’t want to come across as Nazis with a bunch of rules, because you know how artists are...if there are rules, they are made to be broken. Plain and simple. I kept trying to suggest that we should do it humorously. Like have a large poster which looks like the tablets from The Ten Commandments that say things like: “Thou Shalt Not Snap Thy Nude Model with Thy Cell Phone” or “Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Model’s Breast While Eating Doritos.” But nobody seemed particularly impressed with my ideas and they were summarily dismissed. In other word, keep writing, Secretary Girl, you are being too darn silly.
The guys can get kind of raw sometimes though. Remember the thinking about sex every 1.7 minutes thing? The Jewish Guy is very gentlemanly and doesn’t participate, nor does “JS” other than smiling like a Cheshire Cat when something naughty comes up. But we started discussing our big summer celebration we’re trying to put together which will hopefully bring in some business during a time which is traditionally slow. The whole month of July we’ll be having a different theme every week. One week is live music. One week is Middle Age/Goth. One week is 2 Models (and since guys are putting this together, it just follows that it’ll be two chicks, right? Of course, right -- me rolling my eyes, but I’m only the recording secretary.). One week is music from the four Lads from Liverpool week. And the last one had kind of fallen apart, so we had to come up with a new idea. So we came up with Game Night which included such memorable party games as: Music@l Eas@ls. Play music, draw on some paper, music stops, move onto another piece of paper. I don’t know if I’ll have the courage to do that. I’m very secretive about my artwork and I would probably be a nervous wreck thinking I was going to fuck up someone else’s work up. We also came up with a model bringing in their pet. And of course, that got a little dicey too when it went from Golden Retrievers to Boa Constrictors. (am I supposed to be writing all this down too?)
And then the Jewish Guy, who is always so sedate came up with playing Twister during our art class. I wasn’t really sure if we the artists were going to play Twister, or the model was going to play Twister by herself (how dumb would she feel?). I personally thought they should incorporate the Twister theme with the two model night and REALLLLLLY give the artists something to dry. Ya know...Chick on chick action. Right foot on red. Left elbow on blue. Right boob on yellow. What fun!! But of course, I didn’t suggest that. I was just the Recording Secretary after all. heh, heh. Just thinking who I would like to play NUDE TWISTER with.
“A” returned from vacation this morning. (How was that for a good segue? “A” would probably cheat on Nude Twister anyways. And he’d have to have his laptop close enough to be able to send e-mails and Google things like speed dating). It was nice seeing him though. And as I sat out in his reception area I was wondering what his office was going to look like. Especially after that last disasteriously boring rice crispie colored paint. Right before he left, someone from group was going to run over to Home Depot for him that day and pick up some paint. I had asked her to see what color she was getting for him and it was this really boring, 1990’s Country Kitchen blue. It just totally screamed Suburbia 1990. Just another variation on the rice crispies boringness. So I was really disappointed, because I knew “A” wanted something more smart and sophisticated.
Fortunately today when he opened the door, I was very pleasantly surprised with a nice earthy mushroom color, which goes really smashingly with his oatmeal colored couches and Stickley type book cases. Good job “A”. And if “M” made the choice for you, than maybe she has better taste than I thought, because it did look nice...kinda like a Napa Valley wine cellar. Although I noticed you still need some artwork....(ahem)....
This painting, which is larger than shown, has a navy blue matting would would actually match in really well with the room, but I think he wants something brighter and more dramatic. Guess I’ll have to wait and see.
I pretty much just re-capped my two weeks without His Shrink-fullness. It’s been pretty uneventful other than Married Guy surreptitiously calling and showing up at the art center. He did have to remind me that I'm crazy and that I tend to chase people away with things that I do. Yup, its great to have “A” back! :-) If for no other reason than to know how inept I am at relationships and that I’m definitely on board with my latest quest to antagonize the entire Eastern Seaboard. Go me!
Tonight my mom and I were having Conversation #234. The one that goes, “Why can’t you just talk to people?” She thinks just because she can strike up a conversation with anyone or anything (even a head of cabbage perhaps), that I should be able to too. I am not an easy converser. I can write fluidly, but when I open my mouth, it largely sounds like “agfuiqej vfwunjfv jnjnfrujr jjds??” Why? Because I have a severe case of social anxiety. The only way I can talk is to make a joke. I am a primo joke maker. I probably score laughs on about 98% of the things I say. Unfortunately, being a comedian is not exactly conducive to forming lasting relationships. But ya got a Don Rickles Roast in Las Vegas? I’ll be there.
But back to Conversation #234. I have pretty much decided that my sense of humor is also my defense mechanism. Rather than have to have real feelings and relationships, I keep people at bay by making jokes. That way they can like me in a general way because I’m funny, but they can’t get close enough to hurt me. So yay! I am the wittykitty!!!
But you know what? Big fucking deal. I’m really the lonelykitty. Very lonely and I’ve yet to figure out a way to drop the jokester persona in order to let the relaxed me out long enough to be loved by somebody. And naturally “A” had to bring up the girl with the new boyfriend from Smatch.com. Didn’t I just see that coming from like 12 miles down the road? Arghhhh! How can I compete with that? I guess I could say I’m funnier than her, but she’s got a boyfriend. Ka-thunkkkk!
I guess the real question is what do I want more? Laughs or kisses. Both actually. I want both. Can I have both, please? I think god, or Wendell the human fabricator, or whoever put me together, must have forgotten some important piece in my makeup or overfilled the Angst Tank or something because I want to be able to have both. Being funny and being loved at the same time doesn’t seem like that tall of an order. Its just that at the moment, my humor seems to be repelling people. And yet for me, when I make people laugh, its like I’m getting little tiny shards of love. But I guess I can’t exist on shards. Maybe I could save up all my shards and make a mosaic...or a glassy meatloaf...or maybe some really big earrings. Or even build a 3 bedroom house with a music room.
I do realize on some level, that I’m purposely using humor to keep people away. But Married Guy used to love my humor. And that made me feel good. He liked me, and I could be a smart ass, and he liked that too. Its was so cool having it bother ways. Having both aspects of me accepted and loved. And it was definitely better than the alternative....
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty