2006-11-03 @ 1:13 a.m.
On Monday night I drove down to the trendiest part of town and parked on the trendiest street and then went and stood on the trendiest corner looking over at Starbucks, as I waited for my fellow artists to arrive to put up our art show in the trendiest hair salon. I knew they had said 5:30 and I was about 10 minutes late because of traffic and yet...dark locked hair salon....no familiar faces. So I just stood there on the trendy corner, watching all the expensive cars run the stop sign. How many? Oh, probably about 30. You know...Red sign with white letters: STOP.
At almost 6, I saw "L" the hippie chick walking over from Starbucks. She screamed "That fucking "I". Where is he? He was supposed to be here at 5!" It was just nice to see someone familiar, because I was starting to feel like people thought I was out looking for (ahem) dates, ya know. Finally a little after 6, both "I" and JS came from opposite directions and we all stood around wondering where the owner was. No owner. No key. No hanging of art show. Finally about 6:15 she came roaring up in a huge red SUV and yelled out the window, "I'm here!" Good thing too, because I only had on a thin sweater and it was plunging into the 40's.
I finally got to see our venue. It was medium sized, but had two sides of windows with very little space for hanging. I unpacked everything while "I" and JS started to hang things. "I" was only there for a short time, so it was really JS and I who stayed for over 2.5 hours hanging almost 40 paintings in every conceivable nook and cranny, including the bathroom. It was a big job, but since JS is very efficient and patient and I have a fairly good eye for what colors look good together, it turned out nice and the owner was just ecstatic over the whole thing.
Tuesday was my appointment with "A" and the entire session was about Handyman, my new potential date man. He had finally answered my e-mail and said he'd be coming to the opening of my art show. As usual "A" was playing his usual devil's advocate self. I think if this is going to succeed, its going to succeed. I've jettisoned all my usual bipolary behavior and am just playing it very casual with Handy. Acting like its not important. Because I figure if I don't make it important, it'll take the pressure off me being ms.-everything-he-wants and I can just be myself. Right?
So I did go in early Wednesday evening to help JS set up the food for the art show. It really did look pretty nice. The shop is very cool looking, with its hardwood floors, high ceilings, and stucco walls. They even had a fireplace full of white candles going.
People started arriving around 7:15 and that is the most people I have ever seen at any of our art shows. Usually we're lucky if we get 5-7 people, but I bet we had close to 25. And we had a nice spread including several bottles of wine. Charlenmagne arrived with his girlfriend and her friend. He introduced me, but I had met her before. And then I saw Handyman, scurrying in. I thanked him for coming and seemed a lot more talkative and outgoing than our first outing. I introduced him to several of my friends, but I kept having "senior" moments and forgetting my friend's names. Gah! I guess I was nervous or something.
We strangely settled into this little hair-washing alcove, which was away from the party. We mainly talked about writing once again. He seems to think I'm some sort of writing goddess and in his e-mail, he had even compared me to some famous Texas editorial writer known for her rapier wit. I was like, ummm, thanks and then to myself, hmmm, I wonder how he could form such a distinctive opinion with only 2-3 short e-mails, unless.....gulp...he's discovered my secret alter-ago awittykitty, because a certain big mouth said something. I mean, I wouldn't exactly want someone who was going to date me, to read my archives FIRST. There is a lot of private, if not incriminating stuff in there. And yes, I realize its just hanging out there, flapping in the wind on the Internet, but still. I had a big jump in my daily numbers in the last week. So Eek!
But I remained cool and we hooked up with Charlemagne and we kept our double entendres down to a dull roar, you know, since his girlfriend was walking around and I was on a date. Was I on a date? I guess I'm still confused about all this date stuff. Is it a date if he hasn't spent any money on me yet? I mean, does that sound crass? In his last e-mail he asked if he could "experiment" with me...as in "use me" to get used to going out again. I was offended at first. A LOT. But then I thought about it and realized he's probably terrified after not going out while he was married (unlike some people I know). I guess I'll give him a grace period, because I am looking for someone to fall in love with. I'm edging 50 and I've had nothing but mostly inappropriate relationships my entire life. I want something normal and nice. Oh! And loving too! Yeah, that would be nice too!
Him and Charlemagne get along really well though. I took their picture together. I also forced him into the role of my official photographer and had him photograph me with one of my three paintings.
What was funny was...I mean besides my apparent impression of Stevie Wonder closing his eyes while singing "Ebony and Ivory", was that when Handy went over to take my picture, two of the other artists with cameras, "D" and "M" both came over and started shooting a bunch of pictures of me. I felt like frickin' Lindsey Lohan or something. I am basically a very shy person, but at some point, when a camera is pointed at me, I inexplicably start acting like a porn star... licking my lips, running my hands through my hair, possibly touching my boobs. I don't know. I guess its a nervous tick. Argghhh!
Handy left a little early because he had promised his daughter he'd watch a certain TV show with her and that was fine with me. I then went over and started downing glasses of cider with the Sci Fi guy as he was telling me deep, dark secrets about Mary Shelley who wrote "Frankenstein". By then it was nearly 9 p.m. and time to vacate the shop, so JS started shooing people out, as I helped clean up. Charlemagne asked me if I wanted to join a few people at a nearby pub afterwards and since I knew everyone, I said yes.
The Pub segment of the evening, actually turned out to be the most fun. It was me, Charlemagne, "D" the professional artist guy and his wife, "M" who is impossibly good looking and had gone out with Charlemagne and I to the nude model's house this summer and...the cousin of the good looking guy who turned out to be sort of a major dork. I mean he would appeal to some women, but he had a blonde crew cut, was really tanned, knew nothing about art, but everything about sports, had run for like councilman of some local town. And he kept hitting on me. Can you believe it? Me! At first I was feigning disinterest and then I think he realized I was giving him sarcastic answers to his really dumb questions, like "What voting district do you live in?" I said, "Not the one, you're running in." even though I had no idea where he was from. And then he kept hitting my knee with his knee under the table. Freak.
But the rest of the talk above the table was fun...and there was yet even more photo taking, since "D" and "M" were both the guys with the cameras. "M" had a video cell phone and filmed us. And we got Charlemagne so good. "D" took a picture of him and it turned out very nicely and we started handing the camera to each other going "Ooooo, ahhhh!" I think I might have said he looked like Ron Burghandy the Anchorman or something because of his gold tie. He wanted to see the picture so bad!
Also "D" kept taking my picture over and over and I was starting to get embarrassed. I finally converted over to my porn star mode, running my hands through my newly cut and dyed hair and one of the pictures actually looked, well, gulp, kinda sexy. I'm not really someone who takes sexy pictures. I usually look like the love child of Roseanne Barr and Billy Barty. But this one picture turned out nicely. I wonder why he needed all those pictures of me for. He does run a nationally known animation studio. Maybe he needs a new character or something.
Anyways, I was really tired by around 11:15, so I left with Charlemagne who kindly drove me to my car, parked on the next street over. It was a nice night.
Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty