01.26.05

Happy day late and dollar short Australia Day. Well, it's correct for those of us on the western ass-end of the meridians.

I celebrated it with a pre-dawn shower and massive hair removal. Oy, I am a fuzzy girl when I let it go. It's all in the cause of art. Or should I say, Art? Naw, art'll do.

It's winter in these parts, and I ain't got a steady beau, nor do I wear skirts and dresses very often. When I do wear skirts or dresses it's black tights and knee high boots. Yeah, this girl's free range.

Shaving everything from armpits to ankles took almost half an hour. My shower floor is littered with blops of shaving gel, discarded blades and patches of hair. I hope the photographer gets something he can use.

Along about 10:00 a.m., I took off my bra to minimize strap marks. Strange feeling, no bra at work. Kinda nice, actually. Homa sapiens sapiens boobaloosus. Whee.

To add excitement to the day, I sliced a chunk out of the knuckle at the base of my left middle finger. Yep, barked it while reaching under the Extremely Keen and Very Recently Sharpened paper cutting blade to adjust a ream of paper. Erp. The miniscule cut bled with the enthusiasm of Bush supporting anti-choice demonstrators. Soaked through the first adhesive bandage in two seconds.

Meanwhile, I'm monitoring a colour copier that's printing stickers. I have to add new adhesive-backed paper and pull the finished stickers often because the stock is so damn heavy. And I'm staying on top of another rush job of over 3,000 copies of some terribly important, the fate of the entire free world rests upon the proper execution of this thing being copied (or so they'd have us believe-ha!). My hand is wrapped in two paper towels. I'm trying not to get blood all over the customers' work. I'm not the most keen business thinker, but I think getting blood on the product is a no-no.

The Mangler noticed and asked if I was okay. After five years of running a cutlery store, I said, This ain't such a horrible thing. At least the blade's really sharp. A good, clean cut that probably won't add another scar to my poor hands. She groaned. Managed to get the bleeding under control with an over-the-top creation of gauze and bandage tape. It was overkill, but I wasn't dripping gore all over the place. That's a good thing, neh?

Noon rolled around and I went to the studio. Very low-key and I think I've lost my modesty gland somewhere along the way. Somehow it doesn't seem to be that big of a deal.

I am glad that the photographer didn't laugh at my ass--as requested by yours truly. He said that he'd seen scarier asses on younger people. *laugh*

He took a bunch of shots. We played with lighting. I headed back to the house.

I am a wild woman. Woop.

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