Oh, I’m just so cool. Ya wanna touch my arm? I was one of the participants in the coolest art show in town over the weekend. Okay, so it may have been the ONLY art show in town, but it did actually turn out way better than I thought it would. I even think they may have vacuumed up a few tons of asbestos and spiders and rat turds and hung some Christmas lights over a make-shift stage and played some really loud music to make it seem like a pseudo SoHo type thingie.
I almost didn’t go though. I was very depressed over the weekend. I had trouble getting out of bed. I felt like eating 3000 gallons of ice cream. I was so distraught I almost wondered if I shouldn’t check myself into the hospital. Yeah. It was that bad.
I pushed myself out of the house Saturday morning to go to a few garage sales. I found some very expensive paint brushes for two dollars, which was nice. I also found two very nice brass lamps at an estate sale for my Mom’s birthday Tuesday. The wiring in both of her lamps in her living room have burned out and she feels her way around the living room like Helen Keller. And who would get to take care of her if she trips and breaks a hip? ME!
I then went to the yuppie grocery store for something that is almost becoming a daily ritual. A diet coke and a muffin at their cafe. I just needed to get out of the house. When I got in my car afterwards, I actually hesitated for a moment. Do I drive home or do I check myself into the hospital?
Again, I felt that despondent.
So I went home, took a nap, got dressed, put on a little make-up since I had very dark circles under my eyes. But hey! Lets go to an art show!!
So I drove across town. I was surprised at how few people were at the building. Why? I was an hour early, damnit! So I drove to yet another yuppie grocery store and sat and had another muffin and soda and then drove back over at 8 p.m. I could finally see some people streaming into the big old dilapidated cement
death trap art warehouse.
At first I just walked around and looked at stuff. There was art of all different levels obviously. If you tell artists, hey, bring anything you want, you’re going to get varying levels of quality. But actually there was very little that wasn’t good or at least interesting to look at like the deer skull next to the tiny ceramic Bambi statue with three legs.
I finally started seeing a few people I knew like Tall Skinny Guy who was besides himself to see his favorite witty in a social situation. He kinda rocked back and forth, flicking droplets of sweat off his head, talking way too fast. And then “M”, who does really dark and unique drawings on large sheets of blueprint paper.
And then the Ecuadorian woman appeared. She always seems very nervous and excitable. I had never seen anything of her’s before except for some somewhat mediocre nudes in class, but suddenly she has this massive Monet style painting of water on the other side of Charlemagne’s multi-media extravaganza. And she was soon talking to the owner of the most prestigious art gallery in town. She’s meeting with him Tuesday for a possible show. WTF! I mean I was happy for her, but WTF! What about my stuff? The stuff that just the other day “A” told me he was happy to be on the ground floor of having before I got famous.
Yeah THAT stuff. The stuff that people kept walking past. How do I know? Because I took an orange office chair that was just randomly sitting out in the middle of nowhere and sat and watched about 98% of the people walking around the gallery, walking by it.
So as I was witnessing this, I started to twirl around in a circle. I had my digital camera with me and I started taking pictures of myself as I was twirling. Isn’t this fun? My art “career” is in the crapper. I’m all alone. I’m spinning around in an office chair in the middle of an art show taking pictures of myself. And then there’s that stupid deer skull and three legged Bambi thingie over there probably getting more coverage than me.
Its really times like this I wished I drank.
Anyways, I finally went downstairs and convinced some guy to guard the unisex bathroom while I used it, since I’m just not quite down, peeing in the same bathroom with strange men. I wandered around some more and met a strange smiling dog. No. I mean it. He was smiling. I took a picture. Look!
I talked briefly to his very handsome owner. He was part Black Lab and part Malamute and had a whole wall of photos dedicated to him. The smiling dog, not the guy.
I finally met up with the Tall Skinny Guy, the Ecuadoran Woman and “C” who owns a small art gallery and frame shop again and we all sat around and chatted. Ms. Ecuador was telling us her secret of painting on large surfaces. Throw away brushes and just use body parts.
In the meantime, Charlemagne had finally arrived with great fanfare. We were all surprised he was over an hour late. Well, maybe we weren’t surprised he was late, since he’s perpetually late, but we were surprised that he was late for THIS! But he brought in a case of wine and some tee-shirts and undergarments with his artwork imprinted on them. He’s been talking about this forever. I’m glad he finally got it done. Good for him. He was really in his element too….schmoozing with people…plying them with alcohol…angling for deals. I didn’t really get to see him until almost midnight.
And who was with him? My old date mate Handyman from last November. Since I’ve been so incredibly lonely, I decided to be pro-active and just drop my anger regarding the “I’m only attracted to charming people” remark, since just how long do you have to hold on to things. Anger takes a lot of energy, you know. It really does.
So I was friendly to him. And he was friendly back. And soon we were joking. And soon Handyman asked if I would give him a tour of the gallery, which I did. And then he was rubbing my arm. And then he asked me again if I wanted to go to that dance thing …since its one block from my apartment. I hemmed and hawed a little bit since I’m a total geek-dork when it comes to dancing, but I finally said yes. He seemed very happy and excited.
And then he asked if I liked gardens and gardening, which, of course I do. He said that there was going to be a Gardening Tour next weekend and would I also like to do that too. He was planning on having a bar-b-que with Charlemagne and his girlfriend and that maybe we could go on the walking tour of the surrounding gardens afterwards. And I said yes to that too.
Did I just up my dosage of my doofus pills? Not really sure. I hope I’m not making a mistake. When we dated last November, he had just split with his wife. Now that he’s had 7 months to sow his wild oats, maybe he’s tired of the hunt. Is it long enough? Well, he’s not exactly an oversexed horndog like Charlemagne. He’s already dropped me an e-mail this morning saying he felt really comfortable with me last night. Well, duh! I think you feel comfortable with the people you might be compatible with.
And then, last night when he walked me out to my car late last night and gave me a kiss on each cheek, my depression suddenly kind of lifted. I guess that kinda tells you something, doesn’t it?