So this morning I wake up in quite the good mood, for no reason I can ascertain, and in spite of a computer glitch that created all sorts of havoc. I guess it's because I'm sensing romance in the air, and as if to confirm it, this morning I found in the dumpster a framed still from one of my favorite movies, "Lady and Tramp." I tried to scan it, but the frame kept it away from the scanner, and the quality was poor. As long as I had to poach the image off the web, I thought I'd see if it might fit into a Hy-Art. Voila, Disney and Vermeer.
Who doesn't find the bad boy with the heart of gold, the slighty scruffy independent type, hopelessly attractive? So here's to the possibility of me sharing spaghetti in a back alley with Mr. Grrright soon. (Well, what a coincidence that I will be manning the CMA booth at the Sunset Junction street fair tomorrow afternoon. That's pretty close to an alley!)
As part of my preparatory beauty regimen, I'm off to get a hair cut and my back shaved. Thank God I won't have to walk around in the booth, so I can flirt (and be of service of course!) without revealing my incredibly chronic plantar fasciitis limp. But I'm dealing with that too. On Monday I have an appointment with this man, who, believe it or not, was recommended to me for other reasons beside impossible attractiveness. I need me some healing--this semi-constant gimping around is both painful and distracting to anyone who spends time with me. (Isn't it weird how a man in crutches is allluringly vulnerable, while one who limps is somehow suspicious?)
MCO 2008
I got a vivid literal image of peering down a dark alley, to find you and a hunky piece of rough trade sitting at a table, napkins in laps, sharing a plate of noodles. I am still laughing! You had no idea you were so entertaining, I bet.
The Hy-Art is adorable.
Sorry that you are in pain, but you make me smile with your ability to find humor in your pain or perhaps in spite of it. On the practical side, perhaps you should get some crutches. No, not crutches, a cane. A fashionable walking stick has a certain sexy and debonair allure about it.
As I'm a bit late reading this entry, I can only hope that your visit to the handsome chiropractor has given you some relief from pain.