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2004-06-14 @ 12:15 a.m.
pickles, porn and poetry

Romantic movie! You probably won't star in a porno
anytime soon. You seem to be really into the
whole "love" thing...romantic sex
with perfumed sheets and candles all over the
place. You're probably a hopeless romantic. You
value sex and respect your partner too much to
do anything like porn. AWWWWWW!

What kind of porno would you star in?
brought to you by Quizilla

Yes, its true, I'm not a porn star, but more like Kate Hudson. Fooled ya, huh?

Yeah, I'm romantic, or could be if given the chance. And I would love to be given the chance. Anyone want to take a chance with me?

I have the diaryland persona, but I'm actually about 50% less wild than that, and about 300% more sensible, except during PMS. Its true, I am going through a no-panties phase right now. But I really think that's strictly hormonal.

Today was largely uneventful. Hit some garage sales, and spent a grand total of 40 cents on 4 items. Yay!

That included some piano sheet music for "What's New", a book about dream interpretation by Jung, some cool earrings, and a poetry book by San Francisco beat poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti.

Even though I'm not particularly into poetry, despite the fact that my grandmother was a published poet, I was excited about the Ferlinghetti book. I had heard about him of course, growing up in San Francisco, but had never read any of his work.

But this is a great little hard cover book with about 15 poems spread out over 74 pages. The best part, which I didn't discovered until I was walking down the driveway afterwards, is that there is a small LP in a sleeve in the back of the book and the poet himself is actually recorded reading some of his own poems both in Berkeley and New York in the early 1960's. How cool is that for 10 cents! Thus far my favorite poem is called "Underwear" and you can probably guess why. Grin.

Afterwards I headed out to my mom's friend's house. She's the one I like. She was having a going away party for Alf. He got a job up on the Canadian border.

I don't like Alf, since he did the hands between my legs thing in my car in February, but I figured I could probably largely avoid him, and there would also be FREE FOOD!!!

Also "B" has a lovely house on a large creek and a big deck overlooking it. And it was an absolutely beautiful day of about 78 degrees and sunny.

Again it was mostly old folks there. Alf used to be the apartment manager at this senior complex, so a few of the old ladies from there came, and "B" who gave the party, had been his admin. asst. for about 2 years and also her boyfriend, the Eye-talian ex-cop was on-hand to lift heavy things and flip burgers. All of us girls at the party had decided that that was the one thing men were good for... Lifting heavy things and flipping burgers. At least in their 70's.

The party was largely uneventful. I ate about 5.6 million calories. Anytime there is free food laying out on counters, I just start jamming stuff in my mouth like one of the orphan kids in "Oliver". Not sure why.

Ok, I do know why. Its because I have to make $130 in food stamps last 30 days, and I don't eat much. Simple as that.

So I ripped through two bowls of chili, which was probably the best chili I have ever eaten in my entire life, countless cookies, countless pickles (what? maybe a half a jar? Yeah, I'm a little embarrassed about that one), macaroni salad, beans, potatoes au'gratin, sun chips, a hot dog, FOUR sodas, cake, and hard boiled eggs.

I did take a walk half way through the afternoon...maybe 3/4 of a mile. But I was really, really full. I don't usually eat that much. Ugh.

I guess I was also a little anxious about being around Alf. I hadn't seen him since the between the legs incidence, and he would frequently be staring at me throughout the day. But all I could think about was how at the end of the night, when the party was over, how we were going to be somewhat obligated to hug him. And he has been waiting to hug me for quite a while at the various parties we've been at. But no way, sweetiecakes. Keep your mitts to yourself.

He did manage to do something sexually oriented with my mother who is 76. She likes sexual innuendo. I do too, if I'm with someone I know really well and who I can trust. So this other woman was taking pictures of everyone with my mom went over and sat on his lap.

Poor mom weighs over 200 pounds. And of course, at her age, she wasn't balancing very well, and the woman was trying to focus the camera and right at the last moment Alf put his hand up like he was feeling my mother's boob.

He did turn bright red and my mom said in mock horror "Alf, you bad boy!" and hit him humorously going "hahahaha". But I was completely creeped out. Grabbing a granny boob, even in fun, is really FREAKIN' WEIRD!!!!!!

Especially on MY mother. EEEEWWWWWW!!!!! Call Hazmatt! I think I need a shower.

I think it was about that time I had decided to go for the walk. I just couldn't take being around him. And he's so innocuous too. Very shy and quiet, but then he'll roar out and do these really inappropriate sexual things.

By about 7, most of the old ladies had left, except for my mom, and then this African American guy and his wife came. He was a maintenance man at the apartment complex where Alf was the manager, and he was really funny. He did tons of sexual innuendo, but unlike Alf, he was really funny about it. Not creepy.

But its always really weird how when a black person joins a party the way white people suddenly feel the need to acknowledge their blackness, by making jokes about watermelons, police lineups and driveby shootings. And my mom was leading the pack with the inappropriate jokes. I was mortified as usual.

Is that really necessary? To me thats like making a joke about Hiroshima when a Japanese person comes into a room, or to start talking about the Holocaust when a Jewish person walks in. ha ha ha.

Do they really think that the person will suddenly feel more comfortable if you start talking about what they supposedly "KNOW" about? How fuckingly insensitive!

I, once again, had to leave the deck, when my mother started talking about an African American football player to the maintenance guy, and making a joke about the size of his penis...because you know, after all, how LARGE African American men are.

Yes, I was raised by her, but only because I wasn't kidnapped by wolves.

But, by and large, other then most of the humans involved, I did enjoy my time on the deck overlooking the creek. At least as long as I had access to the pickles and was able to look out over the water and see the baby ducks out on the water, follow their mommy like she's the best mommy in the world.

At least thats true in the duck kingdom.

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty