28 February 2007

ay-yi-yi....

trying to change my evil ways before I make MYSELF physically ill.

My big problem is, I'm neither strategic or tactical; I'm just not a planner. Life happens to me and I say yes to all of it. I've always been that way, sort of a "follow whatever opportunity comes your way" philosophy. The problem is, now there are too many opportunities, too many charities, too many people wanting a piece of me all the time, and I have no ability any more to say no, I lost it somewhere along the way. I'm trying to learn, but sometimes opportunities are too good (or too fun) to turn down.

Case in point, right now: I'm in the midst of a residency, in this little war with the CSO staff, and have 3 incredibly difficult projects on my plate. Also still trying to wrap up the end of the gallery and prevent my business from completely falling apart in my absence while I'm off being an artist. The residency (and the 200 piece installation I'm trying to complete for it) is finished when the show opens March 15, I'll post more about it later when it isn't midnight, if I get time. Okay, THAT I knew about, but then two weeks ago a prestigious new curator called and wanted a piece, which of course, was promised to someone else, so I STUPIDLY told him I was in the midst of creating a similar but much larger piece (which was true, but I had barely begun), so he really, really wants it and I cave. Then the paper fashion show only started organizing and contacting the designers with dates a month ago, and as last-year's champs how can I say no to that? You see how it happens. Last night was the mayor's award for the arts; the place I have the residency won, so of course I organize all the kids to do a painting demo, because I'm asked, and of course it was a blast and an honor (and got my work in front of some very important people), and I'm not saying no to that, of course! And on...and on....seriously, I am leaving stuff out.


Phew...okay, sorry, didn't mean to vent. But jeez louise, I am freakin' stressed right now, and I really only have myself to blame. MUST SAY NO AT SOME POINT!

If you're still reading this (and seriously, a part of me hopes you aren't), thanks for letting me blurt that all out, I needed to.

27 February 2007

wot a slacker!

I know, I know, haven't written anything in a while since the depressive past few posts. I'll try to get back to it. In the meantime, please enjoy this short and charming tale of how Squish and I first met:

Okay, how me and the hubby met: I was in choir in college, so in spite of being in the art department all the time I knew a lot of musicians. During a break in a 4 hour evening snooze-fest of a class, I walked into the hallway and started talking to one of my buddies from choir who was also in band, and he was talking to the first trombone, who was kinda cute. When my friend asked me how the class was, I doubled up my knuckle and dug it into my nostril in the universal mock-nose-picking gesture, and said, "it's like this", grinding my knuckle into my face, crossing my eyes, and pretending to drool. Future hubby / first trombone player apparently found it adorable.

Instead of asking me out like a normal guy, though, he asked where I was showing my artwork, and I told him I was in a show that weekend, and maybe I'd see him there? He mistakenly assumed that I was asking him out on a date, and left depressed when I hadn't shown up. I showed up late because I had mistakenly assumed that when I asked the guy who I thought I was dating (mixed signals, I thought he was gay, now he's married to the girl who introduced us but I KNOW he's gay) and he brought another girl.

Somehow it all worked out, and eventually future hubby actually asked me out on a real date.

To which he showed up drunk, after another girl tried to prevent him from going out with me because SHE liked him so she spent the afternoon getting him all liquored up and tried to hijack him and take him to -- of all things -- a GRATEFUL DEAD show. Ugh!

So, he shows up in his Dad's giant car, and proceeds to try to put my bike in the trunk, almost destroying it in the process, and I said, "maybe I'll drive". He had free tickets to Edward Scissorhands, so we went, but of course we both knew EVERYONE there (he worked at the local hipster record store, I worked at one of the only good nightclubs), and I was completely mortified, since he was not a smooth drunk.

By that point, I was just enduring the date, trying to survive until the end, at which point I would be able to furtively avoid him in the hallways the way I did any number of other guys. But in the middle of the movie, when Anthony Michael Hall said, "I'd give my left nut to see that", something happened...future hubby yelled out, "Your left one?!" apropos of nothing, and the front four rows whipped around to see the heckler. At that point, I was hooked.

So, that's the adorable and completely illogical story of our early attraction to one another. Inexplicable, no? Why ask why?