Charles, Meredith and I went to Jerome for Ellen and Ricky Lovelace's art opening at the Jerome Cooperative. I had been in bed all day reading Jonathan Ames. It was rainy, and I was hoping it would start snowing so we could call the whole cordial trip to the show off.
I took an ativan that belonged to my deceased grandmother.
It isn't like I didn't want to see Ellen's work, it's that I didn't want to see T and R.It hurts me to feel that he and I are distant acquaintances. When ever I see them they stand rigid like cardboard. I imagine they share dry German kisses behind doors. Non adjacent doors that is.
This is why i need God.
The reality of that matter is that I am a sore looser, and though I realize Tim elinski is much too brash and uptight for me, I momentarily forget this when he walks into a room.
Last night was not too different from any other of the described sitcuations. I stood trying to make conversation whilst T scanned the room and fretted over his dog.Perhaps he is still angry with me for claiming I would be a better choice than R. I went and found ricky lovelaces secret stash of whiskey.
I must say he has a made a positive physical effect on her. She no longer wears jester caps and floppy jeans. She is doing the western thing.I am glad I am not. And she doesn't seem unkind. she is just radically contained.
By the end of the evening I saw R make an intimate gesture towards T.
It had a reverse effect on me. I some how reassured me in their choice of being together.That maybe the sad, dry, reign of bad choices were made right in the world. Things seemed okay.
I still felt a lingering of illness from their coldness as I left.But maybe they are just chilly people,looking at me with my messy,beating red heart.
oh well. I left the evening with two new prints of Ms. Ellens mixed media paintings
Apparently this is what i looked like after i took a dead womans pills and drank secret whiskey. NOTE TO SELF: DON"T DO THIS OFTEN
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