My Voodoo Doll Ain’t Workin’ (1) in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

Sometime around the middle of last week, I got an important-looking package through my office intercompany mail. It was handed to me during the tail-end of a meeting I was having with a vendor, Carol, who’s also a pretty good friend and we were actually just shooting the shit, so I was curious and opened it in front of her.

Inside was a red doll with masculine features and various sayings scattered all over its red body. Words like “romance”, “hot date”, “crush”, “true love” on the front. On the back, it had words like “dumped”, “loser”, etc.

There were also four little hearts attached with Velcro that could be affixed to any one of the words and moved around all over the little doll’s body.

There was a note attached. It was from Becca! She wrote that the voodoo doll was for preparation for Valentines Day now that the boy boycott of 2001 was lifted (which had obviously never really been in full boycott mode anyway). And then she wished me luck, and included several ha-ha-has!

Cute.

Carol just died laughing and told me how fitting it was and that I better get a head start on V-Day. So of course I immediately stuck the hearts to all the places that had anything to do with romance and hot dates and lusty affairs!!

And then sat back and waited for the offers to roll in!

Hmmmmm…..obviously my voodoo doll is broken or something. I’m starting to wonder just exactly what it is I’m doing wrong.

I’m also thinking maybe I should just hang it up. I’m trying too hard.

Friday night I missed a happy hour, opting instead to go to Super Target (lookie! Opens in new window!) to get “stuff” (you Target lovers know what I mean), and to do my grocery shopping at the same time. Fun for the Friday! Why do I love that so much? Came home and nested with Kitty. It was such a relaxing way to end my workweek.

Saturday I got up fairly early and made it to my morning aerobics class. I was pissed because there was a substitute instructor. I’d taken one of his classes before and hated it. Even had to walk out in the middle of the class! But I decided that since I made the effort to actually make it to class, that I’d suck it up and be a sport. Know what? I got a killer workout! I think he’s changed his style, and I also think he’s even better than the current instructor!

Speaking of working out, I still have three personal training sessions left with Bill. I think he’s found a new chickie to flirt with. I hate to say it, but I’m a tad jealous!! She’s a tall, thin, beautiful redhead! Damn. It certainly didn’t take him long to forget about our little innuendos. Hell, I was practically on my way to meeting his parents before she stepped in! And remember: I was the one who paid for training sessions so I could get out of having to turn him down when he asked me out (???).

See? I’m relationship retarded. I have no earthly idea what I want. Or maybe it’s just that I only want what I can’t have….because when I have it in my grasp, I certainly don’t want it!!

Okay, so take Saturday night as a perfect example. Evan had asked me to go see an internationally syndicated comic strip writer/artist with him. I was pretty excited about the whole thing. Especially because he knows the artist personally and wanted to share this experience with me.

He was picking me up at my place for the first time. Knowing he’s very much into the whole meaningful/visual thing, I was really looking forward to having him come over to see the treasures within my four walls (at least they are treasures to me). Practically everything in my place has a story behind it, or symbolizes something meaningful to me. I could go on for hours about the things in my living room alone.

But from the time he knocked on my door and I opened it and saw him, finally looking like an older guy to me…well, I just couldn’t shake the feeling. He was terribly conservatively dressed in cuffed khakis and loafers and a topcoat. I finally noticed the grays in his hair. And I also noticed the developing Old-Guy’s-Belly-Paunch. Nothing wrong with that, but I envisioned my uncle! And for the rest of the night, I couldn’t erase that vision. And everything that he did and said only reinforced the vision.

I don’t know what it was, but there was a real strange vibe in the air. Like he was concerned about taking me to a function where people from his industry (including his business partner) were going to be. In the car on the way to the theater, he coached me on what we should say if people asked how we met. I don’t know why, but it bothered me a little bit.

Walking from the parking lot to the door of the theater, he held my hand. But then he immediately let go when we got to the door and never held it again.

Inside the lobby, I was fascinated. We had to wait to get inside, so I people-watched. So many terribly hip and interesting-looking people. I wished that we’d gotten there a little earlier for the cocktails. I think he did that on purpose so that we couldn’t mingle! Seriously!!

Show was witty and funny, and I really enjoyed it. More like a “talk” about his life and the business and social commentary than a “show”, but the artist inserted a lot of sight gags, so I guess it was a show.

After the show, we said hello to the artist who was swarmed by a mob of autograph seekers, and then left to go get cocktails.

(to be continued…oh the suspense!!)