2004-02-29 @ 6:57 p.m.
|Hey guys, did you know us girls wear those underwire bras just for you? It certainly isn't for us, you know. Those little strips of wire cutting into the delicate booby area certainly isn't what you would call comfortable.
I strapped on my underwire today. I hadn't worn it since last summer when I was wearing tank tops and wanted to appear somewhat bodacious in the booby department. Since winter, when my lusciousness has been buried under twelve layers of sweaters, the underwire didn't seem all that necessary, so I had been wearing a sports bra. Boy are they comfortable. They are sort of like jammies for the boobies. Soft and pliable. I even forget I'm wearing them sometimes.
They aren't real great for hiding the nipples though. My nips are pretty bold little girls, especially the right one. They have a mind of their own. It doesn't even have to be chilly for them to spring forth like little crocuses in Spring. They are especially feisty during massages. Its like down girls. Married Guy is not interested in seeing you, so chill out. But those damn sheets are so thin. And they are being rubbed in such a way (by the sheets -- not Married Guy), as to maybe excite them ever so slightly...um...
What were we talking about now?
Oh! Well, "A" would have been proud of me today. Instead of sitting home counting the cat hairs between my bedroom and the kitchen, I took two ghetto buses and went to the art gallery where they were hanging the art show today. This art show, of course, is the one which will be including my two nude pieces which I hesitantly submitted Wednesday night.
I thought I was ok, as I was riding there on the bus this afternoon. I was listening to these two 13 year old twins planning their wedding. They were going to have a sage green, tangerine, powder blue color theme, and a Vegan menu plan. And this old African American gentleman in front of them was talking to his dead wife Ermaline, and tapping the window with his fingertips.
But as I got closer to the gallery, I started to get butterflies. I was going someplace and I was finally going to be fingered as the actual artist of these "pieces of art". Argh!
I got off the bus in front of this big building complex. Wasn't quite sure which building it was. Took out my flyer and tried to figure it out. Walked across this huge parking lot. Then I spotted a familiar looking guy carrying a piece of art into a building, so I knew I was on the right track. Got into the building and I could hear the hippy art guy's voice coming from somewhere and I almost chickened out at that point. Almost walked out of the building.
But I thought, well snerkwitz. You walked a mile and a half up to the mall to catch a bus. Sat amongst murderers and weird people. Then switched buses downtown. Sat amongst more murderers and more weird people. Walked through large, random parking lot. You can't turn back now!!
So I took the elevator upstairs and walked out into this big gallery space. Was instantly greeted with a big smile by the hippy art teacher and another guy from the class. Kevin. And then another guy came around the corner. I think his name is David. He has sat next to me once or twice. His work is very theatrical and vivid.
All the artwork was laid out along the walls and they were just getting ready to start nailing them up. I saw my two pieces amongst them. Gulp. Yup, there they were. In an art gallery.
See mom. My artwork is in an art gallery. Must be pretty good.
At first I just quietly observed them as they put the work up. They were kidding around. The hippy guy has a really exceptional sense of humor, in the form of good natured teasing.
The drawing right before my piece was this exceptionally graphic image of a large penis. I mean that was basically all it was. A PENIS. A mega penis. The Grand Canyon of Penises. After they nailed it up on the wall...well, it had to be said, even with a girl standing there. The hippy guy stood back and announced "Well, that's certainly well hung!" Hee, hee. I rolled my eyes and said, "I guess that was inevitable." They all laughed.
And then they came to my picture. And the hippy guy picked it up and held it upside down and said, "Is this straight?"
I'm glad he made a joke because I was really nervous having people look at my work with me standing there. And then a couple of pieces later was my second drawing. And rather amazingly, one of the other artists actually knew who the model was. He said, "Is that Roz?" And I said, "Yes". Couldn't believe he could identify it from my drawing. Yee haw! I must be...well, somewhat acceptable in the art department.
As we progressed around the room, and once we were past my pieces, I started to come out of my shell a little. I took off my coat, and put down my purse and started talking and joking a bit.
And the Kevin guy started giving me some attention (must have been the underwire bra). He was pointing out his work which was really impressive too. And yes "A", I checked out the ring finger...No Wedding Band.
He wasn't too bad. He was short. Maybe an inch taller than me. Longish dark hair and eyes. Possibly Jewish. He talked a little soft. I didn't catch everything he was saying, but he seemed pretty nice. I have a feeling he'll probably attempt to sit near me Wednesday. Or maybe I'm just being delusional again. I don't know.
So the show is now hung. It'll be there through next Friday night when there will be a reception. Don't know if I will be able to get to that since its at night, and I don't want to do the bus thing after dark. But we'll see.
Afterwards I managed to miss the bus, and was confused by the schedule and ended up walking all the way from way above the college campus down to the downtown area, which was maybe 3-4 miles. But it was a bright, sunny day. Temps were in the 40's. Snow is rapidly melting, which makes me a happy camper, and there were no creepy guys in vans.
And then, of course, tonight is the Academy Awards. When I used to work as a movie critic for newspapers back in the 1980's I used to partake in that ridiculous ritual of predicting the Oscars. What a silly public humiliation that was.
Well, I don't do that anymore. My only hope is that Johnny Depp finally gets that well deserved Oscar, and that he flashes his nipple during his acceptance speech.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty