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2006-04-23 @ 5:11 p.m.
all of these friendly people are making me nervous - gah!

On Friday, at work, when I went to my boss’ office to talk about the vandalism to my car she offered me tickets to our local symphony performance. It was work related. One of my coworkers, who had been called out of town, left their client without anyone to take them to the show.

Enter: Wittykitty.

And I know you will really think I’m cool after I tell you who I saw. Meh, forget about The Pixies or Tom Waits or the Tragically Hip. I went to see the Jewish Godfather of Total Coolness (JGTC) Marvin Hamlisch. That’s right. Be jealous. I was even thinking of saving the shirt I was wearing that night, cutting it into tiny pieces and raffling them off to several very, very lucky d’land JGTC know, in an effort to raise money for my damaged car.

I picked up my coworker’s client, a very lovely African American lady who is really my favorite client at work. She’s very cool and regal and used to do theatre in her hey day and has a stunning singing voice. I teased her on the way over to the show that if she hummed “The Way We Were” up in the balcony, that maybe JGTC would hear her and want her to tour with him. She laughed.

Just as the lights were going down someone yelled, “Is there a doctor in the house? Is there a doctor in the house?” and for some strange Marx Brothers-Comedy-on-the-Brain reason, I thought that was part of the show. Because I happen to know that JGTC is a very funny guy because I met him once in San Francisco with my friend “G”. He had dropped in as guest conductor for one of his shows at the Curran Theatre. When he came out of the theatre, we had been mainly been waiting for the actors, but what the hell, there’s JGTC, the guy who wrote “A Chorus Line” for fuck sakes, why not get HIS autograph. So we asked for it and he was all movie-starry and over-dramatic, but in a comedic way like “Oh yes, you MUST have the autograph of an academy award winning composer” and then he dramatically looked around and said, “And I guess I’m the only one here.” I do remember he had the worst cologne on though. Phew! I nearly passed out from standing in his fumes for three minutes. So, for some reason, I thought the Doctor in the house thing was JGTC’s comedic entrance amid all the ritzy, fancy people down on the first level.

Unfortunately it wasn’t. Someone was truly like dying (without even smelling JGTC’s cologne first either ferchrissakes!!), so the show was delayed about 20 minutes while EMTs did CPR or brain surgery or something. I couldn’t quite see anything from the nose bleed seats. The show did finally start about 8:30 and the Jewish Godfather of Total Coolness was very, very funny and we got to not only hear his music, but also various movie scores including the one from “Psycho”. Yay, 29 violins going ”shriek, shriek, shriek, shriek, shriek, shriek, shriek, shriek, shriek, shriek!” live! Its actually the same music I hear everytime I think I see the psycholesbian kicking my car out in our parking lot. Imagine.

Saturday, I did vegetate quite a bit because I was really tired. I OD’d on Netflixs and DVDs from the library. Altogether I watched an episode of “Kids in the Hall”, “Rosemary’s Baby”, “Strange Fruit” (a documentary about the history of Billie Holliday’s landmark song about lynching), “Zoolander” and the 25th anniversary version of “The Blues Brothers”. I also got an invite to my 30th high school reunion. Arghh! But you look so young witty, you're supposed to say. But, yeah, they were playing disco and wearing polyester when I was in high school, so yeah I am sufficiently old. Thanks for asking.

Today I was finally able to wake at a reasonable hour after three weeks of getting up at noon or later (except on work days), I was up by 9 a.m. Oh, so that’s what morning looks like. Watched my favorite news stud George Stephanopolis. Damn, I really have to learn to spell his name, if we’re getting married by my 30th high school reunion in July, I suppose. And then knock, knock, knock. My neighbor, Prozac Face, needed to borrow a can opener. I swear, I’ve lived in New Yawk, now for 15 years and I’ve met more neighbors in the last 3 days than I have in 15 years. I’ve always felt bad prided myself on the don’t bother me scowl that I have perfected over the years. People look at me and think, wow, what an angry bitch, we better not ask to borrow her can opener. But since I have moved here, people keep talking to me damnit. What? Is my face changing? Is my Bette Davis, tonight is going to be a bumpy ride attitude starting to fade? Because in the last 48 hours, I have had 3 neighbors knock on my freakin’ door. First, Walter the nosy maintenance man knocked and asked if I could sell him a stamp. He gave me 50 cents and said to keep the change. Woot! More money towards my car. And then last night during “Rosemary’s Baby” a young girl knocked and said she was my neighbor to the left and that her toilet was overflowing and did I have a plunger. I didn’t so I sent her to Walter. And then today, Prozac Face borrowed my can opener. What next? Will we all be out in the courtyard holding hands singing “Kumbaya”?

And then this afternoon....Me. The ultimate, antisocial, get out of my way or I’ll kick your kitten, actually saw the guy at the first apartment (the lazy bastards who leave their big ass shoes laying all over the place) struggling with a large basket of laundry. It looked like he couldn’t punch the tiny door handle from the inside, so I offered to open it for him. He smiled and said, “No that’s okay” and did it himself. Oh witty, you’re so wonderful...and thoughtful and giving and OKAY, I admit it, he was shirtless, young and a stunning specimen of manhood. I’m antisocial, not stupid!!

And who knows maybe its because its Spring, or my meds, or maybe this is how MY insanity looks: Normal.

I did bump into my much missed shrink “A” down at the yuppie market this afternoon. He’s been on vacation for several weeks. It was funny how he did this really funny double take and then pulled his grocery cart back in under the overhang. It was pouring rain out. I had just had my eyebrows ripped out of my skull by a sadistic filipino dominatrix waxed and looked totally fab other than the fact that my whole forehead had a bright red glow from follicle mass destruction. He asked how I’d been. I told him I’d rather wait for my appointment for that. He had been down in Florida with all the nice hot weather and now he was sick with the cold, rainy weather here. I wished him well. He so totally doesn’t look like a shrink on the weekend. Jeans. Black long sleeved t-shirt. Come to think of it, he was dressed exactly like me. Heh.

Yeah, I’m actually traveling incognito too. I’m really a successful author of children’s books and movie screenplays and live in a mansion on Long Island. The quirky neighbors and small apartment and junky car? They’re all part of my research for my next book, “What the Cat Does While I’m at the Mental Hospital”, a humorous look at how a cat is able to survive on their own wiles while their owner, a thoughtful, yet shy bipolar who stalks Marvin Hamlisch relentlessly is waiting to be discharged from the local mental ward. Who’s going to play me in the movie? Julianne Moore, of course.

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty