longest day of the year…more time to do stupid things. YAY!

Since the other day was the longest day of the year, it was my chance to sleep till noon do as many stupid things as humanly possible in one short day. And it seems that other people have the same idea.

Like when I went to the library and there was this little girl about six who was standing in front of a water fountain, which was exactly the perfect height for her to drink from. But for some godforsaken reason, she was screaming at the top of her tiny yet powerful lungs (I guess practicing for when she eventually gets married), that she wanted a cup. Her father was standing there trying to calm her down, but everytime he stepped near her, she’d scream even louder and then she’d do the famous bratty child dance which is kind of a combination of someone having a seizure and someone drowning ya know. And all of this because she didn’t want to drink out of a freakin’ water fountain. Naturally the entire library had come to a total stand still staring in utter fascination.

I’m sure some of us were rooting for her put-upon Daddy to just get the little brat a damn cup somewhere, to shut her up and then there were others, like me perhaps, hoping against all odds that the little Princess might possibly stumble and whack her head ever-so-slightly on the metallic water fountain. Now wouldn’t that be funny? Come on you know it would be.

So I tried to blot out the screaming and crying as I was sitting at the library computer. And I was thinking, Man, if I ever did that as a kid, my mother would have yanked my arm out of the socket and dragged me outside and beat the shit out of me. Ahhh, the good old days. That of course, was before parents had to constantly tell their kids “Good job” for absolutely everything they do. Granted, I think thats a fabulous idea and I think many more kids will grow up with good self esteem, but when I heard a mom recently tell their kid “Good job” when they pooped in the bathroom stall next to me at the grocery store, I thought I was going to burst out laughing. 

So anyways, suddenly all the crying and screaming stopped abruptly. I looked over and guess what? Go ahead guess? The Dad had gone over to the latte cafe (yeah, our library is so yuppiefied, they serve lattes at the entrance) and he had gotten her a cup to drink out of. Wasn’t that nice of him? So lesson learned…crying and stomping and acting like a general asshole will get you what you want. Yay!

I’ve really got to learn that one, because I have a list about a mile long of things that make me want to scream and stomp in public places. And yet do I ever say anything? No. Oh I do have that fierce passive aggressive “wittykitty silence treatment” thingie.  Ooooohh! Can you feel the chill? Does anyone even notice they’re getting it? Well, I guess Charlemagne did last week. Ha ha!

I guess generally I just can’t tell people when they’re bothering me until I’m at the Mt. Fuji eruption point  and totally fuck things up. Right now, for instance, I’m pretty depressed  which is making me more sensitive than usual.

Like yesterday for instance when my neighbor to the right was blaring their rock music and I was getting their delightful “thumpthump..thump…..de-de- thumpthump thumppp” through the wall. I’ve had neighbors that were far worse, so theirs is just slightly annoying. And then there’s my neighbor on my other side who had her TV blaring. So I finally went out on my back porch to paint. It was a beautiful summer day and what do I hear? Garden Hacker Guy, who lives downstairs, but one over, blasting opera music at top volume out on his porch. I guess he wants people to think he has “cultcha” (that’s how my favorite College Professor used to say it at least. Oh, he was so hot! He was having a fling with one of his students [bad professor BAD] and  I used to watch them go get in his car for a “nooner” every day. How I’d see that? Well I was  just the geeky library assistant repairing books overlooking the parking lot who SAW EVERYTHING. Evil laughter. Incidentally, that Professor eventually “fell” down some stairs at the college and got severely brain damaged and eventually died. Knowing his penchant for the ladies, I think he was probably pushed.

Anyhoo, so yesterday, it was like the Battle of the Bands. Rock music banging to the right. Weeping opera music downstairs. TV to the left. Oy! I hate living in apartments and being too whimpy to say anything. I think that’s why I walk so much. Just to get out of this noise-haven. 

And my whimpiness knows no bounds, since I have now made up with Charlemagne. I know. My mother dropped me on my head a few dozen times evidently. He came over to my apartment last Sunday and installed a copy of Photoshop which I’ve been waiting for for almost two months. And now he’s back to calling and chatting about himself. Friday was closing night for our HIS art show over on the other side of town. He kept bugging me, and calling me, making sure I was going to come. I had to anyways, since I had 7 paintings hanging in a big, old stinky, moldy fire hazard warehouse and I didn’t want to see them get destroyed or stolen.

But one thing in one of our conversation stuck in my craw. I asked him in Handyman was going to be there and he laughed and said “Oh course!” and then he admonished me for dating him and said he had told me not to. Huh? I truly did not want to see that dickwad. True he’s a very innocuous man in person. But I just didn’t want to see him in a social setting. I’m not doing that well emotionally. In fact, I’m in pretty bad shape. I’m sleeping til noon and crying alot. The only thing I’m doing healthy is walking 2 miles a day and doing lots of art, like this drawing I did Wednesday night in my class.

umbrellagirl.jpg

At least I have art and some new art supplies thanks to Scotvalkrie who sent me a gift card to a local art supply store. Thanks!! Thanks too, to HissandTell for being there. You guys are awesome and I’m very lucky to have you!

Anyways, the night of “Charlemagne’s Art Extravaganza” I had to waste several hours in town after a trip to the dirty, icky Section Eight gangsta office. So after that I went down to the artsy, cool part of town to cleanse myself and finally found the place where two of my paintings have been accepted for an art show opening on July 11th. …”The Screaming Cat” (a take-off on Edvard Munch’s “The Scream” and a painting of a Blue Heron). This is my third show in that neighborhood in less than a year. So I looked in the windows of the place (its a bakery — tee, hee) since it was already closed and it looks like a pretty cool place. They have a photo show hanging there right now.

Anyways, I was walking along the sidewalk there and nearly stumbled over this huge A-frame out on the sidewalk advertising another upcoming art show a couple of doors down. The opening is June 29th.  Blah, blah, blah. It’s at the trendiest place in the trendiest part of town. Guess who it is? Married Guy’s little spoiled wifie! I couldn’t believe it. The poster for it was huge, as was the lettering of her name. She never did take Married Guy’s last name. Her former husband had a “cooler” artist name than boring old Married Guy’s name, so she kept his.

For some reason seeing that big fancy poster and her artwork out on the sidewalk made me really depressed. It just brought up all the Married Guy stuff and how she used to talk down to me when I mentioned I was starting to do artwork. She’d like pat me on the head, metaphorically speaking, and say “that’s nice, witty, here’s some crayons. Go play now.”

How ironic, that we’ll have artwork hanging two doors from each other. Of course mine is part of a show. Her’s IS a show.

After that I went and had some Chinese food at the yuppie grocery store, trying to waste time until Charlemagne’s thing. It started at 6 p.m., but I didn’t want to bump into Snerkwitz and I knew he’d be going to his favorite dancing event at 8, so I stupidly, and I do mean stupidly, waited out in the grocery store parking lot in my car until 7:30. An hour and a half. Yay me!!

Parking lots are totally fascinating you know. So much goes on there. People almost getting hit because they walk directly behind cars that are pulling out. Two of the grocery cart kids were chatting by my car. I don’t think they knew I was sitting in my car.

First Kid: “Hey I saw that picture of you passed out with puke on you. Ha ha ha!!!” Second Kid: “Where??” First Kid: “On your MySpace Pictures, Dude!!” Second Kid: “Oh yeah!!”

I finally went to the warehouse at 7:30. I saw two women from my art class on the first floor. I asked them if they had seen a nondescript 40 something guy with glasses upstairs. After some head scratching they finally said no. So I cautiously walked upstairs and fortunately there was no Handyman. Charlemagne screeched, “Glad you could FINALLY make it.” I didn’t stay long though, especially after some woman asked me if my Bob Dylan painting was a self portrait.  

Yeah, I can definitely see the resemblance, you freakin’ idiot.

I finally just started taking my artwork down. Charlemagne managed to tear himself away from the teenaged girl brigade that was hanging out and said, “Dude, its only 8, the show runs until 10.” I told him I was tired and people were really only there for him. And it was true. Just like the original show. Nobody was looking at my work. So he turned and walked away and I packed everything away and rolled it to the elevator on an office chair. Some guy who lives in the building helped me load it off the loading dock.

Did I mention my art career is going really well?

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10 Responses to “longest day of the year…more time to do stupid things. YAY!”

  1. Poolie Says:

    I’ve actually heard this called the Praise Me generation. We reward them for breathing. People get trophies just for showing up to work. Amazing.

  2. chaosdaily Says:

    im the one who will go up to a screaming kid in the library and tell her that her screaming is bothering me, and would she please turn it off? it embarrasses the kid to be disciplined by a stranger, and they usually shut up. most parents wont say anything to me either, because they are telling their kids how i had no business saying anything to them. but it usually works, and i just walk away laughing. if the parent gets on my case, i tell them the kid was loud and bothering me, and libraries are supposed to be quiet. that usually shuts them up too!

  3. skibigsky Says:

    My mother didn’t beat us (she left the spanking to my dad), but since she is a School Teacher and had mastered The Stare, it took one look, and we stopped whatever it was we were doing. Ah, the good old days.

  4. crankygirl Says:

    Must be a bad month for us 2/12-ers. I usually melt those children with my burning eyebalss.

  5. scotvalkyrie Says:

    I’m with Chaos . . . I have few qualms about disciplining a child that’s not mine. I’m blessed with not only the evil eye but also the MOM VOICE. Makes the brat listen every time. Actually, it works pretty good with adults, too.

  6. shaded-lily Says:

    Well, when my 3-year-old grandniece came out of the house and (without being asked) informed me that she had just peed and washed her hands, what was I supposed to say? All I could think of was “Good job!” 😀 OK, next time I’ll say, “TMI!”

  7. boxx9000 Says:

    I’ve often wondered how many women are in this world that hate me because my husband had an affair with them or hate me because I have a successful job in the arts? If you’re going to hate someone, shouldn’t it be the married guy and NOT his wife? Hate really only harms the one doing the hating, so I wouldn’t suggest hating anyone OR anything. It is better to just forgive (not forget) and get on with things. I’m really sorry that this experience is still causing you so much grief. ((((hugs)))) re: the noisy kid at the library…it is OK to let a kid know if you do not like their behavior OR they assume their behavior is OK.

  8. awittykitty Says:

    I didn’t hate Married Guy’s wifie, Boxx. I just thought she was very spoiled and self centered. It was no surprise her husband turned to someone else who actually listened to him and had a sense of humor. She had none. She was very into saying things that would make her sound cool, since she was secretly very insecure. She was a very good artist but felt the need to make fun of her daughter, which really angered me. She’d put her down in front of people, saying how stupid she was. Was this okay? No. Her husband once hired me to clean her house, because she was too “busy” (cough, shopping and drinking wine out in the garden) and I left 10 minutes early because I was done with the entire 3 level house. She got angry, but was too whimpy to confront me so she bitched to her husband who had to ask if I left early. Yes indeed I did. The job was done. Considering I WASN’T getting paid in cash, but in bartering, what the hell did it matter to her anyways. She basically expected everyone to wait on her hand and foot. The only time I got a laugh was when she had an art show somewhere in town. I was invited (oh yay!). I didn’t go, of course. Why would I want to? Anyways, a lot of money was laid out for framing, advertising and food. And then Nobody showed up. I secretly laughed to myself. People who think they’re better than other people, deserve at least one good comeuppance, to give them a little perspective. And you’re absolutely right. Hate takes a lot of energy and she definitely wasn’t worth it.

  9. Stepfie Says:

    I have the Eyebrow of Doom. It wouldve stopped that kid DEAD. Try it – it works on crap dates too! s x

  10. Seacreature Says:

    Mmm-hmmm, I can attest to the passive-aggressivenessessss… I, too, hold things in until I’m throwing a fit. And as you know, it’s usually something small that sets it off. The ‘ol last straw. The other day I found myself repremanding Ron for the 80th time about THROWING SHIT AWAY. The offending trash? The little plastic milk top ring. Now I’m getting the ever-so-lovely sarcastic comments each time he sees a little something on the counter or floor… *sigh*

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