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2004-03-05 @ 12:38 p.m.
accepting rides from lesbians

I had to consult with my shrink last night on a matter of great importance. I try not to bother him in-between appointments, because, well, I'm trying not to be a bothersome drama queen, like my mother.

She, of course, has to consult with me on every cough, bowel movement, fleck of DNA that falls off her elbow, imagined slight by her gang of friends. She also has to share every shred of evidence about how much her friends love her, and how everytime she enters a restaurant, the men come running up and give her kisses on the cheek, and also how her cat licks her hand in apparent approval when she sits on the couch.

I generally lay on my bed with the phone propped on the pillow, in a semi-coma, and grunt at appropriate intervals. It's a little more difficult during Instant Messages, because she'll go on and on, and I won't type anything for a while, and then she'll type WITTY in all caps, WITTY!!!!!!!!!!!! ARE YOU THERE???????????

Yes, Mom, I'm here. but barely

Last night, while she was telling me about her night out, I typed "That's good" about a dozen times in a row, at the appropriate intervals. I don't even know if she noticed that I copied and pasted the same answer over and over.

I had told her in detail, that my art show opening was tonight, last Sunday. Plus during the week I had given her a flyer announcing that my art show was tonight. So this morning, when she actually took a a split second to stop talking about herself, and ask, "So are you doing anything today?"

I said no.

Figured if the only important thing that I've done this year wasn't worth remembering, than I wasn't going to share it with her for the fifth time this week.

(see why I'm in therapy)

So we went back to her sharing about her eyelash hurting again!!

But my late night consultation with my shrink, via e-mail, had nothing to do with my mother. Instead it was about my incredibly shallow worrying about a very nice offer for a ride by a lesbian. A lesbian woman from my group had offered to drive me to my art show tonight, and I was worried if I showed up at my show with a lesbian, and her lesbian lover, I would be perceived as a lesbian by all my potential suitors at my art class.

Is that not fucking shallow?

I have no qualms about lesbians. Or gay people. Some of my best friends over the years, having spent much of my free time doing theatre and working in other creative outlets, has been spent in the company of some truly delightful gay folks. They are great fun. Some of the best parties I've ever been to have been hosted by gay people. Some of the most caring thoughtful people I've ever associated with have been gay. The first person who ever said they loved me was gay (my friend down in Manhattan). I've been in love with gay men. I even had a lesbian best friend out in California.

Yet, here I was nervous about a lesbian transporting me to an art show.

I guess I was afraid it would somehow "damage" my image as a carefree 40-something hetero-chick on the prowl. I mean, how would it look if I came walking in with two lesbians?

Fucking shallow. I am really ashamed of myself. Truly. And the woman who asked me is really, really nice. She is the person who asked me to her wedding yesterday. And I've met her girlfriend. And she's really nice.

So I presented this all to my shrink, and he actually went for the answer I thought he would. Yes, it may look like you're a lesbian, especially if you're not willing to get out and start flirting with men.


If we start waiting for me to start flirting with men, we would probably have to wait until I'm in a wheelchair at the old folks home with a freakin' lithium drip attached to my arm. Because it sure ain't gonna happen anytime soon.

Flirting with men. EEK! Hey wanna flirt with me? Do you want this incredibly shy, insecure, neurotic, but kinda cute artistically inclined girl with long dark burgundy hair to put the moves on your ass, while the lesbians are out warming up the Toyota?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

So, I'm still deciding what to do. I'm having the usual mad, crazy thought process ripping up my stomach and making me crazy afternoon.

Do I just ignore this incredibly stupid lesbian-association thing and accept the ride and just go to my art show? Do I ask my mom to borrow the car and then have her ask what its for and then she'll want to go and then she'll have chest pains in front of my art work and then they'll have to call 911, because Witty is having a moment of success and she can't tolerate that? Or do I take my life in my hands and get on the Murder-Rape-Transit-Bus-System at 10 p.m. at night and hope that the drive-by shooting guys don't like 40 something metro-chicks "in-that-way". Or do I just stay home and watch my snowy-no-cable TV and wonder what people are saying about my somewhat amateurish piece of artwork which I entitled "Yellow Sensuous". Are they laughing? Are the lesbians wishing they could buy it so they could hang it over their basket full of Home Depot catalogues? What?

I really don't think I will get an opportunity to find out, since I'm kind of leaning towards just staying home. I feel a urinary tract infection coming on. I think it must have been from inhaling all that yellow pastel dust Wednesday night.

Fuck shyness. And while you're at it, go kiss a lesbian for me. They're nice people, even if I can't accept rides from them.

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty