baggage's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Maybe, Someday, Love Will Make Me A Better Man So Girl Unit and I went to the Laguna Art Show yesterday. We spent all day ooooohhing and ahhhing at all these wonderful works of art done by all these talented folks all selling for something like a gazillion dollars each (That's unframed by the way. Framed wonderful works of art sell for three gazillion dollars each). Oh. And we heard some wonderful music as well. Blues, jazz and classical-all played by unbelievably talented folks with greatness ooozing out of their eye sockets. Girl-Unit loved it. Going to artsy-fartsy shows is one of her favorite things in the world to do--that is--submerging herself in the wondrous world of talented folks and their wares. She rolls in this stuff much in the same way dog-unit rolls on the backyard grass on a warm afternoon. But me? Well, geez-I have to confess. I'm way too shallow to appreciate our little outing as much. I'm too busy being jealous. I'm too busy thinking that, hey- I can draw--I can play music. Why are these folks getting all the accolades while I walk around in a pair of sandals and green shorts with a stain on the crotch from the In and out Burger I munched on one hour before? Why not me? I'm talented too! Sniff. Sniff. Whine. Whine. Girl-Unit makes me feel a lot of things. But, never are my shortfalls as a person as apparent as when she's right beside me drinking in somebody's greatness while I sit there fuming-too self-involved to enjoy the moment-over the lack of attention being thrown my way. She is a much better person than I. Maybe that's why I've been chosen to ride on the coattails of her coolness. Maybe-someday-I can be as nice of a person as she thinks I am. Maybe. Let's hope. 6:02 p.m. - 2001-09-01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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