Tonight i went to check out an opening at the iArt Gallery and another at the Erdmann Contemporary around the corner from iArt. It was a typically enjoyable evening peppered with the usual kisses on cheeks, brief conversation plus one or two promises to do coffee/lunch/dinner soon, and the occassional unfortunate faux leather biker jacket. Faux leather, so shiny, so flammable. My only regret was that i missed tonight's opening at Blankproject Gallery. I feel as though i should write a little blurb about the evening, possibly an entertaining one, but last night i went to a friend's dinner party and and drank way too much cheap red wine, had too much fun for a school night and now i feel horribly sorry for myself, i always get the worst babalas. so i fear that if i wrote much do to with tonight it would all be swimming in self-pity and terribly unentertaining. Online expressions of moments of depression are horribly unattractive and boring, not to mention desperate. Along with the religious ones i have unfriended a few people on facebook because of their self-indulgent cry-for-help status updates, fucking call a suicide line already. thankfully, there's a McDonalds drive-thru close to my place, and junk food is still the best remedy for a hangover. so i think i'll drown my sorrows in a supersized happy McMeal accompanied by a sugar-free beverage, and i think it's okay if i don't make a note of this one in my food diary.
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