2006-11-28 @ 12:21 a.m.
If you're like Pavlov's dog and conditioned to go postal if you hear "Frosty the Snowman", chances are going Christmas shopping in the next couple of weeks, is probably going to be problematic. I know it is for me. I went this weekend. Briefly. There was a sale at my favorite art supply store and since all my art supplies are nearly gone and I had the money from the sale of my painting and I had a hand full of coupons... and I had also heard that if you faced north, stood on one foot, flapped your arms, hummed a certain Andrew Lloyd Webber tune between 12:00 and 12:06 p.m., they'd give you an extra 20% off, I was game. At least I didn't have to look totally stupid, sleeping in front of the store overnight on a slab of ice for some dumb video game.
So I ran in and grabbed a new 16X20 sketch pad, some new pastels and an additional smaller sketch pad. Oh, I'm so bright. I'm unemployed. I'm going to food pantries. I'm on the verge of losing my Medicaid health insurance because of a self-inflicted snafu, but hey, lets pick out some art supplies. Yay me!! At least they were covered by the money I made from my painting. Now what do they call this whole configuration? Oh yeah....Starving Artist 101.
I then headed over to Target. And be jealous bitches, since Target is only like a 1/2 mile from my house. And I'm sure you're all thinking, wow, witty gets to go there any damn time she wants! And you're right. M&Ms are only 59 cents there!
But what I really wanted to do was score some quality time at the one dollar DVD rack. I mean where else can you find such gems as "A Boy in a Bubble" with John Travolta (a film which might have possibly spurred him onto Scientology) and then another one called "Monsters Destroy Everything", which I originally thought it was a documentary about the 2004 Presidential Election, but I actually think it was Japanese....for a dollar! And then there were all those episodes of "The Beverly Hillbillies"!! Merry Christmas, mom!
My real purpose of going to Target though was to get some hair dye for my roots. This was my pre-date with Handyman...you know the one that didn't happen because we both misunderstood each other's information. Happily or sadly, depending on how you look at it, it wasn't my fault, although since I'm awittykitty, I did take full responsibility for everything...as well as a few other things like the Stock Market Crash in 1929, the cancellation of your favorite TV show, Nick Nolte's drunk driving arrest, Michael Jackson, dust bunnies, the fact that you didn't get laid on your prom night. Yup. All my fault.
I waded through the crowds at Target. I think "Frosty the Snowman" was playing. I then had a brief flash of that last scene in the movie "Carrie". You know the one...where all the doors slam shut. People start screaming. Things start catching on fire....And then there is an extreme close up of my weird, vengeful eyes, as if to say, "Play Frosty the Snowman" again, and Santa gets it!" See what Christmas music does to me...and it isn't even December yet.
Anyways, afterwards, out in front of Target there was a guy selling raffle tickets for a silver Mercedes Benz. Now doesn't that strike you as a little odd? A silver Mercedes pulled up to the front door of a shopping mall with a guy who looked like John O'Hurley selling raffle tickets? He tried to sell me one and I suppose I kind of scoffed at him. I didn't mean to, I just kind of said something akin to "Yo, mofo, ya think I could drive that thang down to the food stamp office?" Because you see, people selling raffle tickets for a Mercedes Benz get very jittery when you call them "mofo's" or say the word "food stamps". They think you might possibly be a panhandler or might want to whack them in their head and steal their iPods.
So I dyed my hair Saturday night. My eyebrows were looking a little nonexistent, as in white hairs-where-are-my eyebrows? so I decided to brush a little dark brown hair dye on them. Now there is no cute and gentle way to do this. When you put dark hair dye on your eyebrows, you pretty much either look like Groucho Marx or Tom Hanks in "The DaVinci Code". And Tom Hanks it was. It actually freaked me out a little. I was standing there, waiting for the dye to take, and when I looked in the mirror again, I was like Holy Mother of God, I was actually instead suddenly starting to morph into Tom Hanks in "Bosom Buddies".
It was all very traumatic, as you might guess, so I quickly jumped into the shower and scrubbed the hell out of my facial area. Although even today, I have these really dark eyebrows and this overwhelming urge to dress in drag and oogle Donna Dixon. Not really sure why.
Anyhoo, a couple of thank yous are in order. First of all, I'd like to thank everyone for your support the last couple weeks during my first faltering steps back into dating. You guys have been great and I really appreciate it. Secondly, I'd like to send out a heartfelt thanks to Poolagirl for a nice giftie package which arrived today. It couldn't have arrived at a better time. That home made soap sure made me smell all purty. And lastly, I'd like to thanks all the Drunk Monkeys over at 12% Beer. I've always wanted to be a part of Diaryland's Cool Kids of Comedy and now I am. Special kudos to the ever bubbly and talented Kungfukitten, for all your supportive comments and to my favorite goddess, Hissandtell who is my love muse. Thanks for listening. You are better than chocolate and Johnny Depp rolled up all together!
And now I may just start crying and reenacting Sally Field's Oscar acceptance speech, "You like me, you must really like me" and that would truly be obnoxious, so I'll just stop while I'm ahead. Thanks everyone.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty