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2006-04-05 @ 1:23 a.m.
sneaking a peek....

Okay, so Iíve been told by my shrink that Iím a little obsessive. Moi? Its not like I have all my spices alphabetized or my towels color coordinated in the closet, or even know where any of my important paperwork is, because I just keep shoving gobs and gobs of papers into an overflowing filing cabinet, and hope that some OCD filing fairy will just happen to see the injustice of that situation, take pity and try to organize my life. Because I sure wonít. Iím totally apathetic about everything except...
  • art
  • writing
  • walking
  • thinking about penises

    Now Iím not kidding about that. Its truly an obsession and it only really started after I started taking my nude drawing classes where men were walking around naked and there were no strings attached and I could just look at penises at my leisure. But unfortunately, then I started thinking about them when I WASNíT at the class. Iíd sneak a glance here and there. At the grocery store. At Barnes and Noble. At work. Because I could get away with it. People who walk with their heads down never get busted. Its like, oh, poor witty. She has such low self esteem. But I was really just surreptitiously checking out twigs and berries!

    Guys, on the other hand, ARENíT sneaky peekers. When I was thinner and younger and cuter, Iíd see guys walking by and their head would practically snap off their neck when I passed. Theyíd even do it when they were with their girlfriends. Can you imagine? Iíd be so pissed. So much for subtlety.

    But I am obsessed about certain things. And I had a gentleman caller at my apartment today.

    Yeah, baby

    Okay, it was just Walter the Maintenance Man from Twin Peaks Central, and I think heís gone schmoopy over witty. Because about 2 p.m. today I was on the computer and I heard someone try to open my screen door and then I heard a knock. I freaked out naturally because I virtually never have ANY visitors, and also I was still in my jammies. Hey! I didnít have an appointment with ďAĒ until 4, so I was relaxing! I made a mad grab for a sweater to put on over my nightgown. Didnít want to bedazzle some UPS guy and make him fall in love with me at the front door. And I was actually thanking god I HAD something on, since I usually work in just my undergarments if that. But it had turned cold again, so I had more layers than usual. So I open the door just an inch and it turned out to be the old Maintenance Guy, Walter. He was cradling his hand and he asked me if I could help him fill out a money order for his phone bill. He said he had fallen on the stairs and couldnít write.

    Now how can you turn down an pitiful old man with a crooked old claw hand and a money order? (Iím much nicer in person than I seem in print). But I told him heíd have to wait a minute and than I tore into the bathroom and put on some clothes. I finally let old Walter in and he was all very gentlemanly and Southern saying, ďOooh, Miss witty, this apartment is just loooovely. Do you play the piano?Ē

    For some reason I was nervous though. This guy is only about 5 foot tall and I could probably body slam him in a New York minute, but my heart was still racing. He had on a pair of droopy gray sweat pants and a large leather belt.

    Now here is something I have never understood about this certain male accessory. What is it about those extra long belts, which have an extra extra long piece which hangs way way past the buckle, looking very representational of say, a pseudo-penis? Yeah, you know the ones.

    Married Guy used to do his belt like that ALL the time and I knew for him, he was doing it as a macho thing. Like hey, look at my extra long penis belt. And yes, to be honest, I would sit and stare at it thinking, is he trying to attract my attention to his Irish guy groin area...because its certainly w.o.r.k.i.n.g.

    Because am I wrong? Am I being obsessive? To me that would be about akin to a woman just randomly stuffing two king sized pillows into her bra and pretending not to notice that she was suddenly a size M cup. Thereís always a lot of subconscious sexual stuff going on whether we admit it or not.

    So anyhoo, back to Walter. So we were standing at my kitchen counter and Iím filling out his money order and he was chatting away about all the inmates everyone at Twin Peaks Central. His hand was fidgeting rather provocatively on his penis belt so I was watching him like a hawk. Iím not particularly fond of old men and I also hoped he didnít look up. Because mere inches above his head was a nude calendar put out by my art class and I could just imagine where the conversation might have gone if he had seen that.

    He also wanted to know where my pussy cat was. (Guardcat had run when he came in). I told him she was afraid of men. Heh, heh. Actually sheís not. She used to practically dry hump Married Guy everytime he came over, and he didnít even like cats. I finally finished everything and he shook my know with his ďinjuredĒ hand, with no ill effects. So I donít think he really had any problem with his hand. I just think he wanted a little special witty mckitty time. And this had better be the last time, gramps!

    I then headed over to see ever delightful ďAĒ for one last appointment before his vacation. Damn, it was just like one long appointment interruptus. Started 10 minutes late. Had 3-4 calls. I was a little frustrated, but its always like this right before he goes on vacation.

    Ah, the price of fame.

    We did get a little therapy in. I showed him my latest artwork which he once again nodded his head and said he was amazed at the progress Iíve been making recently. He also asked about the portrait class Iíll be starting next week. I think I probably have the funding in place for that. We also talked about the usual stuff. Me getting a love know....the theme from the last decade. Only an Aries would be able to stick it out for this long. His birthday is during his vacation next week, so I gave him a birthday and giftcard today

    Oh, incidently my homework for between now and when he gets back from vacation the 18th? To have sex. Ummm, ok! Great idea! Yup! Good!

    Now are we talking....with or without batteries?

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  • Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty