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2007-03-05 @ 12:23 a.m. |
Well, it appears that the Queendom thing is winding down. The Royal Doctor has quit. The Royal Masseuse has quit. The Royal Dress Designer has quit. I guess they all expected to get paid. Can you imagine? I was only a fake queen you guys. I guess they didn't realize that. Oh well, bygones. So I rejoined the commoners today and went to Charlemagne's birthday party. I ended up NOT buying any new clothes since, well, the Royal Bank account ain't exactly flush. So I just had to be stunning with a new haircut and a new dye job that I actually let my mom do yesterday. Yeah, can you believe it? Letting my almost 80 year old mother dye my hair. But last week some woman, who shall remain nameless, very thoughtlessly pointed out that the front of my hair was a different color from the back of my hair and gee, isn't it too bad you can't somehow fix that since it looks kinda weird. I thanked her for her very observant observation and then got in my car and cried. My hair looks like that because I dye it myself and I have a lot of hair and I can't always get the dye distributed evenly because my arms don't quite bend in that direction. So I asked my mom if she would dye my hair for me. And can I just say one word.....OY!! What drama when I went to her house yesterday. She acted like I had never seen a box of hair dye before (and I've seen at least 3000) and I really had to scrunch down in the kitchen chair because my mom is just slightly taller than the cats. But it came out all right, I guess. I also tried to sleep in this morning because I've been looking a little zombie-like the last couple of days and also I've been battling some kind of scratchy eye allergy thingie which has been absolutely miserable. I still had it today, but I washed my eyes out several times with water and also applied eye drops and then blinked like 450 times and it finally got a little better. I did hem and haw a little about what to wear, but I don't have much to choose from so I just wore some khaki pants, a black sweater, a striped scarf and bolo tie with a big silver heart on it. I did medicate before leaving since I was nervous about 1) a party 2) meeting up with Handyman 3) the blizzard like conditions outside. Charlemagne's house was easy to find of course, since I've brought him home quite a few times and its across the street from Handyman's. I just walked in when I got there and Charlemagne swooped in and gave me the Frenchman's double cheek kiss. I saw a few familiar faces....although nobody from our art class until later. They had a stupendous spread of food. There was also an eclectic mix of people from "The Nation" (our artsy community-- His Friends) to more normal people, including lots of little kids running around-- His girlfriend's friends. I guess I looked approachable because quite a few people came up and talked to me including this older Jewish lady who, as fate would have it, just happened to be Handyman's next door neighbor. She brought it up, not me. She mentioned his name and I said I knew him and then she started saying how cheap he was and how he borrows garden tools and never returns them until you ask. And how he had borrowed a wheelbarrow and never returned it...period. And then Charlemagne chimed in and said he had loaned him his snow blower once and then Handyman just assumed he could go in the garage and take it without permission. I just shook my head in amazement. I did mention to the lady that he had fed me leftovers on our last date and she was totally aghast. I guess hearing all this was making me less anxious about his eventual appearance. According to Charlemagne, he had been there in the morning helping prepare the food, but they had gotten into a little argument and he had gone home. But then Charlemagne, who's actually a softie, called him during the party and he eventually made a mid-afternoon appearance. So I saw him come in. He said hello, I think thinking, oh I bet this witty chick is gonna be all over me, because I'm such a total stud, but all I said was "hello", turned away and never looked at him again. Go me! And what was weird was I was later sitting talking to this artist guy and several other people and we were having this lively conversation about those "starving artists shows" that come to town once in a while. They aren't really art. They're just pieces painted on an assembly line. Anyways, suddenly out of the corner of my eye, I see Handyman come and sit on the floor next to my feet. He had on these glaring white tube socks, so I knew it was him. Naturally I ignored him and just went on talking and joking with this artist guy Mike. Finally after about five minutes he got up and went back to the other room. And then finally he just left after about a half hour. Boo hoo!! Maybe he needed to go check one of his many dates off (FREE) Craig's List. I did make an effort to have fun at the party though. I have a lot of anxiety around social events, but I did sit down with the twenty-somethings and played Pictionary. Unfortunately our three person team included a toddler about 4 years old who kept hitting me in the head, screaming in my ear and who fell full force on my outstretched leg (OW!!) and started screaming about that too. But we had to let him draw the clues. A Four-Year-Old Kid. Any wonder we NEVER frickin' got off the starting space. Sure, its nice to include kids in games, but not one that requires reading, comprehension and decipherable drawing. I mean how would he know how to draw "Arsenio Hall"? So I eventually rejoined the adults, but by then it was clearing out. I had bought Charlemagne a funny birthday card but I have no idea where it went. Hope he finds it. And then I finally left around 4. By then Charlemagne was out in the kitchen speaking French rather loudly on the phone to someone. His daughter had never shown up, so maybe he was talking to her. He did run in and kiss me good-bye, saying "I love you". I guess that's okay to do in front of your girlfriend. Gulp. So other than the brief discomfort with Handyman, I had a very nice time. Older Entries |
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty |
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