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2005-03-03 @ 1:30 a.m.
witty kissy face...it seems


So Charlemagne the Obnoxious French Guy kissed me tonight. Ha! It was one of those Charles deGalle, French Guy one kiss on each cheek thingies. Not sure what prompted that or where the paperwork involving permission to do so was granted (me raising my eyebrow), but it was done, and there were no casualties and his naughty bits are still intact.

It was a cold and snowy night. I wasn�t even sure if I was going to go to my art class. It�s been snowing for what seems like days...weeks even. We had over 14 inches of snow in a 24 hour period. I did get out today, to take our newsletter over to our Fearless Art Leader. Our snow plow crews are pretty damn good, since they get so much practice, so the roads were in good shape. I had seen him over the weekend in the art supply store (imagine that? Seeing my art teacher in an art supply store...film at 11). I got a few last minute updates from him and he told me Charlemagne was going to be in charge of the class this week, so he could take some time off. And I haven�t seen Charlemagne in over a month. And even though he�s obnoxious, I like hanging out with him because he�s funny and he�s more neurotic than me. I also know, that he�s a total spazz-matic when it comes to running the class. He doesn�t know where anything is. He can�t multi-task, except if it involves flirting with girls, and I knew he would need help. So I left early, partially because I was scared about driving in a big snow storm, but also to help him him out. Because I knew he would be running around like a chicken with its tender nuggets cut off. And he was. So I set up my table, because first things first. ME, ME, ME. And then I started to help him set up the rest of the room.

There was some older red headed woman there with him and she was convinced that she knew me. She was a real estate saleswoman. And I said that was not likely, since I�m a lifelong renter and the only way I will ever own a home is if I win the lottery. But she still thought she knew me.

And that was when Charlemagne came up, grabbed me by my shoulders and gave me the double kiss thing. In front of her. I guess he wanted witnesses. And then as soon as he did that, he immediately said, �My girlfriend is here from L.A.� You know, to cover his ass. Men are so sneaky. Have witnesses. And then have excuses. It�s the law.

But I was a little startled with the kissing thing since it was kind of out of nowhere and (cough) I�ve been fantasizing about Charlemagne when I masturbate lately. Lordy!

Things pretty much tumbled out of control from there. People started arriving and we couldn�t find the sign in book. I didn�t know how to issue our tickets. I sold several tickets at the wrong price. Charlemagne was still struggling to set everything up. He asked if anyone had a cell phone because he was going to call our Fearless Art Leader because we couldn�t find anything. There was no music playing. None of the pre-art class announcements were made. Tonight was also the last night people could submit work for our art show which starts Saturday, so those were pouring in. I was trying to make sure they all had signed release forms with them, but I pretty much lost track of that about mid-way through. So we started about 10 minutes late. He hadn�t even set up the lighting for the model, so I ending up jumping over artists trying to find an electrical outlet.

Yup, yup, yup. Good times. I can�t imagine what he would have done without me, since I did about 65-70% of the work while he was bounding around the room swearing and saying he was stressed. My main concern was that our money box would get stolen and I would somehow get blamed. But it didn�t. And then he was freaked out when he had to use the timer to time the poses. Freaked out by a timer? Okay, I�m freaked out by lint, so I guess that�s ok.

About 3 minutes before our break he leaned over my shoulder and whispered, �Here�s the timer. I�m going across the street to get some more food. When the timer goes off, push the button and announce to the class that there is still time to submit work to our artshow. (For those really latecomers, you can still bring stuff in on Saturday when they�re hanging the show). And THAT was what struck total fear in my heart. Me having to talk in front of an entire room of artists. That is the main reason, I don�t �Host� our classes. I am too scared to talk in front of a group of people. So I just totally freaked when he did that, because, with that, he flew out the door and there I was staring at the timer, counting down the last three minutes of the pose, trying to think of what to stammer say when it rang. I was scared to death. Arghh! I was also secretly cursing �C� for doing that and wishing all sorts of plagues and misfortunes upon his body, if he didn�t make it back on time.

tick, tick, tick.

Of course, I couldn�t concentrate on my drawing, since the blood was slowly draining out of my brain and other extremities and I was close to losing consciousness. But then at 0:03, he came back into the room with a bag full of groceries. Dickhead. Don�t ever do that again!!

Oh, I forgot a really strange thing that happened early in the evening. The model was posing. She�s a regular and she sort of gasped and then looked at Charlemagne and I. She said some person had just snapped a picture of her with a cell phone camera through the window in our door. That is probably the first time that has ever happened. Cameras, as you might guess, are not allowed on the premises. So Charlemagne and I had to look around to try and find something to cover the little square window in the door, but can you imagine? What a freakin� perv, whoever did that.

At break I tried to get up to the snack table, but it was being invaded by the Tim Burton Girl Gang. They are such a giggly bunch of girls and I was listening to them talk and trying to place their mode of behavior. I mean they look like the characters from �Nightmare Before Xmas�, but they sound like Pee Wee Herman, you know, kind of juvenile. And its only because I hunkered down and watched some old episodes of �Pee Wee�s Playhouse� today while it was snowing, that I realized their similarity to Pee Wee. One of them sat next to me tonight and I looked over at her sketchpad and instead of a nude figure, it had cartoon characters of two guys, Eric and Chris, about to kiss. Well, it�s your $7 bucks.

I did finally manage to get to the snack table to scarf down really the only junk food I eat during the week (well, except for Hostess cupcakes). Charlemagne was there talking to another male artist about the time he had seen a male model posing at an all girl�s Catholic College and that it was obvious that the guy had waxed the willie before posing, because according to Charlemagne, there was still a drop of moist goo hanging rather precariously from his penis during the pose. I know he was trying to get a reaction from me. Seeing if I would get embarrassed by such �naughty� talk, but I did hold my own, although, obviously not in quite the same way as the model had.

The last half of the evening was a little more under control, until the song �Satisfaction� came on and I nearly had to jump up on a table and do some pelvic thrusts and sing like Jaggar. And unfortunately, Charlemagne DID try to sing like Jagger with some rather terrifying results. He�s not somebody you would want to invite to a karaoke bar.

And then when this other quieter song came on the model asked him what it was, and he said it was him and his girlfriend�s song. He said he could put it on anyplace, look into her eyes, sing it to her and she would start weeping. And I shot out, �Are you sure its not your singing?� He was aghast, of course, so he immediately jumped up, planted his big ol� face right in front of mine, and tried to do his hypnotic, cry-producing look, but I just looked at him like he was wiggy. (which he is).

After the session, we both talked to the model. She�s a nice girl. She said she was thinking of retiring from nude modeling and I was just picturing what that was like. Oh, you mean, keep your clothes on in a room full of people? Charlemagne was flirting with her like he does with all the models. He was saying that he thought he knew her from somewhere and now that she had her clothes on, he was almost certain. And that is actually true. I saw one of our nude models this summer at the library. I sat next to her at the computers for about 45 minutes and didn�t even recognize her. And its a little embarrassing to blurt out, �I didn�t recognize you with your clothes on!� in the library. She said that modeling is really boring and that the only reason she does it is for the money, and well, maybe, because its all about ME, ME, ME. (A girl after my own heart).

I helped Charlemagne put away most of the stuff. He still didn�t know where to put things and was nervous about leaving people�s submitted artwork unattended. I was still nervous about the money box for some reason. It sits right by the door and I can just imagine, how easy it would be to tuck it under your arm and walk out the door. But appeared to be ok, and Charlemagne thanked me. Was wondering if I was going to get another double French cheek kiss, but all the cool people were looking on, and god forbid, he should be seen smooching a forty something woman. Especially since his girlfriend is in her twenties. A fact which he likes to repeat to anyone who will listen. He just turned 45 three days ago. I did wish him a Happy Birthday and he seemed happy that I remembered that it was his birthday. But birthdays are my thing, ya see.

So here is tonight�s art work. And I know Dangerspouse is especially looking forward to my latest nude drawing, so here it is. Whee! Knock yourself out, toots!



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