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2007-03-02 @ 9:13 p.m.
queenly duties are spellbinding

Well, my last two days of Queendom, have been, in a word,


The sheer excitement of it all....Media types hanging from trees outside trying to get pictures of me cleaning the cat box. Me, making the very wise choice to rule my kingdom in a cute pink lacy tank top and flowered pajama bottoms, since I just knew I was meant to rule and now totally do.

Day One of the witty Totally Ruling:

Wake up time: Who knows. I’m the queen. Nobody tells me when I can wake up, but its probably late since I’m having a really severe fibromylgia flare and feel like the cast of “The Departed” just beat the living crap out of me. I check my e-mails and there’s one from the guy who has a little crushy on me from my art class. It has: “Horrible News” written on the subject line. This isn’t good. Did somebody die? Have a car accident? See Richard Simmons naked? No.

He was upset because the photos he had taken at our Mardi Gras event were all blurry and there’s basically no make-overs. But since he’s really trying to fit in at our group and I can identify with that, I wrote back and sent him the two pictures I had taken with my new super cool James Bondian digital camera. Incidentally, he had sent me the blurry pictures and boy was I glad we were going to supposedly use mine, because I had done one of my famous goofy Monty Pythian old lady faces in the picture and looked totally ridiculous.

He then wrote back almost immediately, you know, as if waiting for his favorite chubby muse to respond and said: “Those 2 sure are clear, but in the one of you & (King’s name), your smile isn't as nice, mainly cos you're not smiling. That one must have been taken by someone else (different background, etc...). Do you like that one better than the one I took with your camera, where - I'm hoping, but naturally haven't seen it yet so don't know - maybe you were smiling???? Could you send me that one too???? I guess you probably want me to use the 1 you sent... Even though you are completely lacking in expression.”


Dear Minion: First of all you don’t tell the Queen she’s “completely lacking in expression.” Its merely called a demure tilt of the head from where I come from. Secondly, we were the only two people with cameras. Who else was taking pictures? You apparently took the unbecoming non-smiling picture of moi and now you will be beheaded immediately!

New York Times headline tomorrow: Queen witty takes a hard line on errant photographer and says “Off with his head!”

I really think the thing that weirded me out the most was in his first e-mail. He wanted to either come to my house or to where I work immediately (what????) so he could download the pictures. No, my dear. You are my Art Stalker. Art Stalkers don’t get to come to the Palace.

So I was going to write yet another note to him, since I know he’s probably hunched over his laptop in some secret lair, waiting oh so anxiously for his delicate yet beautiful witty to reply, but I think I made my wishes clear. Am I right?

I then headed over to the gym. I’ve been going there everyday lately, despite my severe fibro pain, to do the treadmill, and then take a much needed dunk in the hot tub with its super hard water jets. Mmmmm. Yummy. Its really the only thing that gives me any relief, since the damn pain pills I’ve been downing, seemingly by the handful, have been useless lately.

Truth is, I go to the gym, for the 11 big screen TVs. I really miss having cable TV and being able to watch things like continuous live coverage of Anna Nicole Smith’s everything being broadcast. But what I really miss are those shows on the Home and Garden Channel that tell you how to de-clutter your house. I’m still working on mine, but man, some of those young, yuppie couples sure have a lot of crap in their condos.

In fact, I was sooooo inspired by this one couple that I actually went home and cleaned out the desk I’ve had for over 30 years. In a way, it was like an archeological dig with its various layers: The 2000’s. The 1990’s. The 1980’s. The 1970’s. I even found a ticket from a theatrical production of “Dreamgirls” dated February 12th, 26th birthday. Whoa!

But I also discovered something else in those drawers....Money! Not a huge amount, but I’ve been hunting down pennies all over my apartment the last couple of days for some reason. Like I’ll come out of my bedroom in the morning and there will be like seven random pennies lying on the floor in some odd configuration like the Star of David or something and I’ll go WTF. Where’d they come from?

I also found a lot of random earrings. I mean A LOT. Like almost 100 single earrings. I mean did I lose them whilst having Hot Monkey Sex? Truth is, I have no idea how I managed to lose almost 100 earrings, unless they’re hiding out, conspiring, at some secret location with the lost pennies.

So what I decided to do was lay them all out on the kitchen counter, which apparently was an instant open invitation to Guardcat to jump up and start playing earring hockey. I yelled at her repeatedly, as any Queen would, and she’d stop for a moment and then get bored and start again. She eventually flopped over and swept like 57 earrings off the counter with one sweep of her huge raccoon tail. Bad kitty. Bad!

The whole point of this was that I managed to rematch about 15 pairs of earrings back together again. See how totally exciting the life of a queen is.

Day Two of the witty Totally Ruling:

If you haven’t had enough excitement read on. There’s even bleeding involved.

The Queen was awoken at 6:30 a.m. by the Royal Psycho-de-Snow Shoveler. If ever anyone deserves a beheading its this one. Although I have to say, the late night shoveling (1 a.m.-3 a.m.) has stopped. I think people finally got sick of it and complained so Yay on that count.

I finally got up around 9 and went into the bathroom, turned on the light, did bathroom things, washed my hands. Was generally clanging around. And then I spotted Guardcat’s paw stretched out in front of her from deep within my linen closet. I thought, cute. I love it when she does that. So I gently went to pet her paw and suddenly....


and a rush of fur came catapulting out of the darkness with about 3 1/2 Ninja somersaults. She even managed to somehow hook my arm with her claws, mid-catapult, leaving 5 gaping, bleeding wounds, which are still red and puffy tonight.

So I guess its safe to say, even Queens aren’t safe when their loyal subjects spazz out during Sleepus Interruptus.

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Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty