2006-10-22 @ 4:45 p.m.
Here is your horoscope
for Saturday, October 21:
The universe works in mysterious ways. Sometimes you just have to give yourself and your goals over to forces that are larger than anything else you've known. Stop trying to control events, and just let them happen.
ummm, okay. And I guess I sorta did yesterday. It's not easy for a control freak like myself. I mean, I'm a lot better than I was five years ago. I think that was when I realized I couldn't control things...you know...like when the Filipino mail order whore made off with my Dad to the Philippines and left me with a nearly penniless future.
So as I was writing my last entry, I heard that familiar "twink" of an arriving e-mail (and thankfully it wasn't yet another viagra ad), and it was from Handyman, the guy whose name "A" had given me about a month ago and then Charlemagne was supposed to get me in contact with through a supposed dinner party. I had somewhat given up on hearing from him because of all the impossibly crossed wires.
Although to be honest, after my "date" with Harold the Geek, I was sort of "resting" from the dating world. Yup. After one date. He had sort of worn me out from a summer of notes on my door, his various gifts of rape whistles, his unexpected if not unwelcome knocks on my door, and then his deliciously Norman Bateish letter of last week. I just really didn't know if I wanted to stick my toe in the dating pond again...like ever(!!!!!!). Phew!
But I opened up the e-mail, which had "Its Saturday night and I ain't got no body" on the subject line. Now there's a switch, huh? No wife. Yay witty!! Anyways, it was a very casual nice note asking me if I wanted to go out on Saturday. It had touches of humor, which was good. My choices were walking (oy! my aching legs...wait, let me get my sneakers on!) or a late night tacky horror movie-fest at our local art deco movie palace. They both sounded good, although I wasn't sure about meeting someone I didn't know at 11:30 at night and being with them until 1 a.m. I immediately panicked, of course. Why? Because I'm wittykitty, the nearly dateless wonder. I immediately wrote a note to Charlemagne, filled with the word "eek", asking him if this guy was possibly a serial killer. If anyone would know he would since he lives across the street from him and has a good view of his yard and any possible late night digging activity. I know the type. I live upstairs from one (coughGardenHackerGuy). Charlemagne graciously never answered me. Thanks sweetie. I'll remember that the next time you ask me to co-host with you.
Anyways, I then sat and looked at yet another blank screen and blinking cursor...the e-mail back to him. I knew I could dazzle him with words. I am The awittykitty after all. I just had to get up the courage to actually hit the SEND button. That took about three hours. I finally did it around 1 a.m. Eek!
Saturday morning I ran down to town to go to my old support group. It was their 5th birthday so there was tons of food, which of course led to the eating of tons of food including vast amounts of birthday cake and soda. I had rather cleverly decided to wear my tightest jeans for my date with Handyman, so by about the 5th glass of soda and second piece of cake, I was ready to bust my zipper. But it was all about "the look". I was going for the bohemian artist look. Tight jeans. Black sweater. Black beret. I mean call Central Casting...its the hippy artist chick!
It was difficult though, because I had no idea what Handyman was like. My sole description of him from Charlemagne had been "he has a beard and he's a "fake liberal". I mean, what the hell does that mean? Married Guy?!??
After the group ended, I had to ask one of my former coworkers to use their computers, since I had to get Handy's e-mail message on whether our date was on. And it was. And his reply was rather humorous. We were meeting at the canal, and he would be the guy in the gray fedora, trenchcoat, Italian sunglasses and the red carnation on his lapel. And I totally believed it. Hey, I had just dated a guy who wore a trenchcoat and fedora, so why not?
When I told my coworkers about the trenchcoat thing, they all said, almost in unison, "We hope he doesn't flash you!" Gah! Considering the Nanny Guy, a couple of years ago, who stripped down to total nudity the third day I knew him, I kind of gulped to myself. I was a total basket case by then. I was totally hyper from all the sugar and caffeine I had consumed. I was on pain pills. My jeans were so tight, there was no oxygen getting to my brain. So what to do? I dashed off a quick note to "A" about my impending date, dispensing with the usual "Dear "A" and just saying, "Hey Yenta".
Fortunately the weather had brightened up from an earlier gray sky. The Fall colors are just past their peak, but still quite beautiful. I pulled up to our designated meeting place and there he was. Thank goddess, there was no fedora. Just an average looking 40 something guy with a beard in a sweater. I know I probably looked like an artist hippy chick from Central Casting when I walked up in my beret and funky black and green neon Nikes. I think he said, how did you know it was me. I guess I could have said, "Well, you're the only guy who looks like a "fake liberal", ha ha ha, but I thought I had better save the hilarity for later.
So we took a 2 mile walk along the canal.
We talked fairly easily. I was a bit of a motor-mouth, probably due to various substances I had imbibed. I guess I was afraid of voids in the conversation. Walking with someone is a lot easier than sitting across from them in a restaurant for instance. I remember going on a date with someone I worked with once in California. We had great repoire at work. We chatted up a storm all day at work, joking around, etc. We got to the restaurant....dead silence. It was horrible.
But unlike Harold the Geek, he kept up his end of the conversation and asked me a lot of questions. I eventually took off my beret for a moment and his face brightened and he said it was nice to see my face. oh. heh. Okay.
We then stopped to look at this rather rambunctious raging river, which had some bodacious eddies in it. We were trying to figure out if it was getting water from the lagoon on the other side of the trail and that was creating the eddies or what. And then I created one of my famous, off-the-cuff movie scenarios about someone falling into the river and getting sucked into a watery vortex and then getting spit out in some shallow stream 70 miles away, 5 seconds later. He looked at me a little strangely and said that was very creative. I just said that was my writer's imagination. I didn't want him to think, well, that that's what I was really thinking. Because you know that stuff could happen!
So that was the date. I did tell him I wrote humor for newspapers and he asked if he could send me some text and I could tell him if it was funny. I told him I would, but to expect the unvarnished truth. Heh! Haven't heard from him. Nice going, huh? Anyways, I guess I'll just have to wait and see if I scared this guy away with
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty