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2004-09-09 @ 1:50 p.m.
I could really use about twenty cases of confidence about now

Have been feeling a little under the weather emotionally. It was just the anniversary of the last time I saw my Dad alive three years ago. It was just before the whole 9/11 thing. I remember I really wanted to call him about everything, since the world seemed to be falling apart, but I was just being my usual, hardheaded self, so I just dealt with all the fear and anxiety I was having through my support group and with "A".

I was actually the first person to tell "A" about the whole 9/11, planes crashing into the Twin Towers thing. He was in session, and my appointment was right after the second plane crash. I had been watching Good Morning America as it happened and arrived at his office in complete denial and shock. His amazingly effective words of comfort were "Well, that's NYC, nobody is going to attack us." And I believed him.

I did call my friend down in Manhattan when I got home to see if he was ok and fortunately he was....though very anxious and pacing as we talked. Also Married Guy lost someone in the Twin Towers and has never really gotten over it. We were publishing a newspaper together at the time, and we had to postpone our publishing date, both for the onslaught of incoming news and also for M.G. to deal with his grief.

So I've been a little down this week. But I did manage to push my lazy ass out the door for Art with the Crazy Crazies. I had not gone last week, because I literally had no money for gas. They are also out of painting supplies and I was giving them a week to restock. Unfortunately when I went there this week, they are still without any canvases to paint on so I had to use pastels, which I could damn well, do at home, but I knew I had to push myself out of the house, because I've recently been taking on hermit-like personality traits like growing a waist length beard, wearing shoes held together with duct tape, and not bathing, kinda like the rest of the hermits living under the bridge. I had even recently acquired a volleyball with a name written on it. Oh wait, that's a Tom Hanks movie. Sorry.

So I drove down there, and they rather embarrassingly had to set up the whole table just for me. Then the director of the center came running it and slammed a flyer in front of me.

"This is for you. Read it. You have a deadline, Missy!"

What it is, is an art show being sponsored by a local nonprofit agency, which funds the Crazy Crazy place. The show opens in early October at the coolest local art gallery in town. And for some damn fool reason, my friend, the Director, thinks I am the Art Superstar of the Crazy Crazy place and wants me to submit something. She has even offered to matt some my artwork and she has threatened physical violence if I don't submit something.

But here is my dilemma:

1) Extreme anxiety about submitting artwork to the coolest art gallery in town. I want it to be something cool, but I don't know if anything I've done is cool enough. I have to keep telling myself that on the original flyer, it said that artists submitting work weren't allowed to use "kits" from stores. In other words, things like paint-by-number kits or something you just put together with directions. I don't do anything like that. All of my stuff is original.

2). I have no confidence in my ability. I've been looking at everything I've done in the last couple of months and think everything is crap. It's totally psychological from years of my mom criticizing everything that I have ever produced. I keep hearing the little mommy voice saying, "Why did you paint that elephant purple, witty? That's stupid." when I was 6, and I can't seem to get over it. I probably painted it purple because purple elephants are cool, dont'cha think? Maybe he was gay too!

3) I'm also purposely taking so long to make a decision because soon the deadline will be past, and I will be heartbroken because I fucked up. It's on September 13th. That's Monday, you freakin' idiot. Think you can get your shit together by then witty? Ummm, eeehhhh, aahhhh. Gah. I dunno.

4) I also have the ongoing frame dilemma. I have thick canvases and skinny frames and no money. Would it look funny if I duct taped a canvas to a skinny frame? This is going up in our most prestigious art gallery in town. Would I look like a dork if I brought in a frame slathered with duct tape.

5). I'm also afraid to call the people involved with the show. I'm afraid of using the telephone. I'm afraid of the ghost of Eva Peron. I'm afraid of breathing. I'm afraid of rejection. Can I have a cookie?

But I did sit down at the Crazy Crazy place and draw something. I wasn't real inspired. As usual "T" wondered in. He was the original guy I met there. He had really made my heart race when he admitted that he liked curling up in a fetal position and sucking on a baby pacifier just before he asked me on a date.

(But what will we do on our second date?).

He admired my work as usual and said, "You're very DID." And I was like "What?"

Him: "DID"

Me: "What's that?"

Him: "You have multiple personalities don't you?"

Me: "Um...no. That's one of the few things I don't have."

And then he backed away, like I had just slapped him. "Oh, I thought you were DID. Sorry, I guess that's me."

Unfortunately this was a very large image of an entire woman, but my teeny weeny scanner just scanned the part that I thought was the most important ...The heart. And its really how my heart felt yesterday. Boxed in and wrapped in thorns.

Naturally, after I was done I had to take my heart on a walking tour of the Center and let all the crazy crazies go ooh and aahh and say how beautiful it was. The Director of the center said she is jealous at how easily I'm able to express my feelings through art.

And its so lucrative too!!! (not)

And then as I was walking out to my car, with my art work flopping around by my side (I was trying to beat the first raindrops of Hurricane Frances), some woman yelled out at me on the city sidewalk, "Your work is really nice! Are you an artist?" and I was like, Yikes, where's my car??

I did take a little power nap before my figure drawing class. Wanted to look good for the potential appearance of the "K", who has been MIA for like 3 weeks now. I then took a shower. Got all pur-ty and sweet smelling. I even put on a dress last night...minus my undergarments. :-)

So I pulled up next to the building and there in my rear view mirror was "K" walking across the street. Had to hightail it out of the car rather quickly in order to catch him. Naturally all my stuff got caught on the gear shift and tangled up on the seat belt. I then had to swing my legs out as demurely as possible, so as not to possibly flash him (you know as in no panties). He seems a little nervous around me and seeing awittykitty in all her glory, might possibly send him into cardiac arrest.

But I pulled it off. I was right at the back of my car when he arrived. He had gotten his hair cut. He's kind of a hippy too. So I commented on how nice he looked, and he said, rather glumly and Woody Allen like, "Now you can see how balding I am."

I told him that wasn't true (I never even really realized he was balding. Its very subtle. Married Guy is balding too, but I don't even think about it, because he has so much other great stuff going for him, including some spectacularly handsome blue eyes).

So guys...unless you look like Fred Mertz, girls may not even realize you're balding. And balding isn't that bad. And its part of life. And besides, there's more places for my tongue to explore. :-)

Anyways, after the balding comment and me saying I didn't notice, we kind of had a huge gap of silence walking upstairs. He then finally said his hair used to be longer than mine (mine is way past the shoulders). I said, "really?", and then I got a severe case of "what-do-I-say-next?"-itis.

And basically that was the end of our conversation for the rest of the night. Completely. We didn't even talk during the break. Fruck. This isn't going well.

Is it him? Or is it me? Or are we both just terminally shy? Or is he possibly overwhelmed by me (I'm nice enough looking to possibly make someone Woody Allenesque nervous). Or when he was walking up the stairs behind me, did he realize I was without panties and that made him nervous? Damn. I think that is why I like men who are confident. Ones who come up and say hello. But I also have to strike a kind of balance, because sometimes those types are frightening to me too.

So my one remaining chance at getting to know "K" is at a local street festival on September 19. Our art group will be set up drawing on the street and he has already signed up to draw. And I know what time he'll be there. I only wish I could be his model. I really wanted to sign up to be a model rather than an artist, especially since you get to keep your clothes on. But alas, only drawing positions were available, and me drawing IN FRONT OF PEOPLE - GASP, was not an option.

Man, I really need to grow me some balls.

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