2005-12-31 @ 1:03 a.m.
As a way to remember 2005, I've decided to take the first paragraph from the first entry of each month and interject them with drawings I did in my Keith Herring work planner. I figure its a good way to really see the complete picture of what I did over the last year with drawings I did other than in my drawing class. I'm actually getting a little bored with my figure drawing class, but I'm definitely not bored with drawing as you'll see with my various little scribblings. I generally do the drawings in pen, when I'm bored during meetings at work, and then I'll bring them home and add color in Photoshop.
So, without further ado...the wittykitty year in review, via drawings, which are in order of completion and first paragraphs. Enjoy and have a safe and Happy New Years....
1. What did you do in 2004 that you'd never done before?
Sold a painting at an art gallery. Yay me!
Today when I opened up AOL, there was a fascinating link that just had me hyperventilating in anticipation... The Evolution of Tara Reid. WOW! Really? From what to what?
I was talking to my mom this evening about the Academy Award show last night. And of course, she had to be critical of just about everything. Especially that the guy who hosted... Kid Rock....Yeah, didnít he suck? And who would have ever thought to have Kid Rock hosting the Oscar Show? I mean, he hasnít even been in any movies yet, has he?
Heh, heh, Kid Rock, hosting the Oscar. Good one, momsy. Ya mean CHRIS ROCK, dont'cha?!
I have a lot to say, but not a lot of energy to say it. APRIL FOOLS!!
Oh wait, that's over, huh? Well, actually the part about not having enough energy to give a blow by blow description about my craptacular Thursday is true.
About two weeks ago I went to work for a meeting and then met a client for two hours and then came home. Nothing unusual about that right? Well, there shouldn't have been, but did I mention, when I got home, the local D.O.T. (Department of Transportation or as I now refer to them...the Dorks of Totalassholedness), had dug a hole to China at the end of my driveway?
I've been having a rather humorous thing going on at the awittykitty house. Over the weekend, sMatch.com had a 3 day Sale. Join us free and find a new honey!! I had a vague interest in it. I've actually had an "ad" running on sMatch.com for over 6 years. And I guess you can probably tell how well its been working...
When I'm manic, which frequently happens in the summer, its kind of like a TIVO unit that has gone awry. Instead of recording several programs over a several hour period, it has recorded every single thing being broadcast in the entire universe at hyperspeed.
Thank you for making anti-anxiety medicine. It really comes in handy for someone like me, since I usually feel like a cat hanging upside down over a yard of frothing pit bulls. But can I ask you one more teensy eensy favor? Can you make a medicine that will make me impervious to stupid people and enable me not to over react to seemingly insignificant situations? Thanks.
Iím fairly certain, youíll probably be wanting my autograph sometime in the next 3 minutes, as you read this entry, because, well, Iím kinda famous today. I had 30 seconds of my 15 minutes of fame. Iíve actually used up bits and pieces of my 15 minutes of fame already. Iíve been in movies. Iíve been on television. Iíve been interviewed and photographed by a major West Coast newspaper. Iíve been published well over 250 times. Iíve had artwork hung in a museum. Iíve met many famous people. But today.....well, donít be jealous now. I was....ok, I hope youíre sitting down...on the news with Wayne The Weatherman on Channel 3 News!!!! Yes! Its true! Its so cool to be me. Wayne the Weatherman on Channel 3 News! I bet youíre just kicking yourself, saying dammity damn damn, I wish, wish, wish it would have been me. But no, it was me. awittykitty, weather girl extraordinaire.
Its so strange. Although I only work part time, I get most of my hours going to meetings rather than actually doing my job. Is this wrong? It kinda feels wrong. Because the actual job I'm supposed to be doing is not going that well. My clients. Well, lets see. The first one? I have no idea. I kept calling her and she stopped returning my calls, so I finally stopped calling her. My second client? I can't really discuss anything because of confidentiality, but I haven't seen her since mid-August. My third client? I guess she's a keeper. I take her out twice a month. She likes doing exactly the same exact thing everytime. So I occasionally try to mix it up a little with her. Like today for instance, I took her to our local art museum. There was this really cool exhibit called "Aftermarket" about this guy who sold every single thing in his entire apartment on E-Bay and then traced down the people who bought his stuff and photographed them for a book and art exhibit. My client didn't understand why somebody would buy a box of saltine crackers on E-Bay. Me neither, but hey, wasn't that totally cool that somebody actually did?
Well, since I'm too tired to be participating in any forms of sin tonight, I thought I would take this meme ABOUT sin that I found over at my fellow insomniac retail harlot's website. And since I'm Catholic, at least a fallen away one, I'm sure I'm guilty of at least 98% of these seven deadly sins, so please pray for me, would you?
Time: 6:29 1/2 pm. Wednesday Night. Rrr-iiiinnnngggg!!!!!!
Do I answer it or donít I? I have caller ID and I know its my mother. Hell, of course its my mother, because who the hell else calls me now that Iím listed on the National Do-Not-Call-Me-Mr.-Telemarketer-Or-Die List. No one. I did have someone call me the other day and ask if Dave was there. I said there was nobody named Dave at this number. After a long pause they said, ďYouíre shitting me, right? I know this is Dave.Ē Me: ďNo, this is NOT Dave. Iím a girl. You have the wrong number!Ē Dickhead on the other line: (muffled, but still audible) ďHey Jim, Dave is fucking around with us. Heís acting like itís not him on the phone (laughter).Ē Needless to say, I did hang up.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty