2004-03-24 @ 10:57 p.m.
|Another packed day of human companionship, yet I managed to fit in a miniature emotional breakdown, some drug taking, some self lovemaking that culminated with a massive orgasm that made me yell Jesus, Mary and Joseph and then lots of art. Just your average wittykitty Wednesday.
This morning my case manager picked me up at 9:30 and we went over to this seminar at this fancy hotel for people who want to work and still keep Medicare and Medicaid as their insurance. It was a two hour event and I was truly hoping that since it was at a fancy hotel that there would at least be some croissants and or some spring water at the entrance, but no, nothing only boring, confusing governmental handouts that were made even more boring and confusing by several speakers who weren't coordinated with each other and spoke in government-speak which made us mere-mortals scratch our heads in total confusion.
Not surprisingly, I was lost after about five minutes when the seminars turned to spend downs, buys in and pass accounts. They made things so confusing that even a freakin' PhD wouldn't had been able to figure it out. Even may case manager was passing notes to her team member saying things like "people who work for the federal government are overpaid, and are out of touch with reality."
Fortunately we left a 1/2 hour early since things weren't getting any clearer. I had come across two prescriptions I had found tucked into a sample box of Vioxx I had gotten from my doctor yesterday, so I had my case manager drive me out to my pharmacy which is in the big yuppy grocery story, so I didn't have to take two buses. Unfortunately I didn't get to wait for the prescriptions, but at least they are there, when I finally get back. And then, happily, with minimal pleading, she also stopped at Michael's Arts and Crafts store and I was able to pick up a new sketch pad, since my current one is completely filled with artwork. Yay! That was one thing I had forgotten to do yesterday.
She then dropped me downtown for my art class with the crazy crazies.
But first I stopped at Subway for a quick lunch. Had my usual tuna sub with onions and was sitting in the back of the restaurant facing the windows when suddenly I saw this tall, white-haired man stroll by and my stomach totally bunched into a knot and my hands started shaking really badly.
It was Zen-shrink. I totally freaked out.
I had not seen him since he had done the inappropriate grabbing of his balls in front of me last November during one of my sessions. And it had taken quite a long time, just to not be nervous at the mere sight of any tall, white haired gentlemen strolling around a mall or in a parking lot, but then to suddenly see that son of a bitch strolling nonchalantly down the street. Fuck! I was ready to pee icycles!
It took me quite a while to calm down. And I was totally convinced that he was going to turn around and come in the restaurant for some reason. I shook for a good 5-8 minutes after I saw him.
And even after I got down to the crazy-crazy place, I wasn't even sure if I felt like doing art. Because if I did, it might possibly involve a large butcher knife slicing a salami or something.
But I had brought a book about the work of Mexican artist Frida Kahlo, so I got some inspiration of one of her images of some fruit and sunlight and I drew that.
My case manager had suggested that maybe I should present the idea of "teaching" an art class at the crazy crazy place once a week to the supervisor. She thinks that maybe they could get funding for something like that from the state. It's just that the people in the art class fluctuate from week to week, and they have incredibly short attention spans. And I also don't know if you could get a specific group of people to attend from week to week. It's a walk-in center. I see a few regulars, but I don't know if I could depend on a core group of students.
And I also don't know if I could really "teach" them anything. They pretty much do what they want, which is draw pictures of hills with trees on them. That seems to be the universal theme with every last one of them. Although there was one woman today who drew herself as an angel with a halter top on.
At least when I'm there, I always try to encourage people to use color, because people mostly draw with pencils, and its a sea of depressing black and white pictures.
Which of course, is why my drawings all stand out. Because I'm up to my elbows in purples and pinks, and yellows and oranges and bright blues and greens. No monochromes here, baby!
But I wasn't totally happy with my image today. I was still shaken from the sighting of Zenshrink, and then some wino guy appeared at the crazy crazy place and started hallucinating and vomiting and the police and EMTs had to be called and I was sitting five feet away trying to draw "pretty pictures". It just wasn't happenin' for me. I need peacefulness to make beauty. I'm funny that way.
And then there was the Murder Rape Central Bus ride home. I was sitting between two girls who were practicing the fine art of Yo-bonics with the conversation meandering from the fact that Shaneequa used baking soda to fool some people into thinking they were buying some high quality cocaine to Tyrell hiding a gun in his backpack at the Mall.
It's just so educational, riding on the bus. I mean where else can you hear, "Yo motherfucka, ge outta ma faa-ce" which roughly translated means, "Please kind sir, could you please step aside so we can play through to the next hole, because I think our limo driver is waiting to take us to the Lear Jet, so we can jet off to Spring Break at Palm Beach" and be so in tune with the youth of today?
I did make it home for a few hours before my figure drawing class at night. Got the freak on for a little while. Not sure why I started this new tradition. I told "A" about it this week. I think I had a lot of anxiety swirling around about Zenshrink. And then I took some new pain pills and some clonopin and still felt like a balloon, that somebody had just let go of, and was flying uncontrollably around the room. Married Guy hasn't answered my e-mail and I was distraught about that. And I still have some residual despair about my dad from yesterday. I felt like I wanted to call "A" about the Zenshrink thing, but I know he would just downplay it and say, "What's the big deal?" and he would have been right.
What's the big fucking deal? The guy grabbed his nuts in front of me several months ago. Get over it. He's a perv.
But then the other part of me, wants him to pay for it in some way, especially since he got off scott free, with no consequences other than a talking to by "A". And I have no idea how distressing that was, if it was at all or if Zenshrink just felt like, oh, I got away with it again...ha ha!
So I guess I will just try not to dwell on it, if possible.
I did go to my figure drawing class tonight. No penises though. Oh boo hoo! Just a shy young woman on her first nude modeling gig. She was very stilted and self conscious and quite a few people left before the class was even through. Felt a little sorry for her, but I did the best I could with the subject. I had no choice, but to stay since I took a cab wasn't due to return until 10 minutes after the class ended.
And the cab driver home was a real crack up. An African American gentlemen. Very energetic and nosy. Had to ask all about my class. I did manage to keep the fact that I was drawing nude people a secret, but he did let me in on a rather alarming piece of news...artists never get famous until they're dead.
Ya know, after a day like today, don't even tempt me.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty