comissions ROCK!

The opening was last Saturday and was, by all accounts, a success. The place was pretty packed. My parents were there as were my aunt Nancy, cousin Nancy (it's a often recurring name in my family), my brother and his girlfriend. My friends Jen, Trish, Lorne, Natalie, Kathleen and Missy all dropped by.

The most touching moment of the evening, and of my life, came when my father cried openily when he saw the painting I had done of my grandfather. It's based on a photo that was taken around 1942 where he is dressed in his Italian army uniform. Makes me a little teary now just thinking about it. As we all sat around, gabbed and drank really good coffee, I felt like my grandfather was actually there in the room with us. My parents ended up staying right until the folks at Javaville had to kick us out. I think Dad felt Grandpa there too.

Just as things were winding down I was approached by a local resident who really liked my dog portraits and asked if I could do a portrait of her dog. YAY A COMMISSION!!!! Since none of my paintings were for sale, I am very excited about it. Oh, and I also got a commission from someone at work to do a portrait of his daughter. WOOHOO!!!

Pictures coming soon. I'm a lazy ass...

side effects may include mild concussion

Styrofoamkitty's most recent post reminds me of a special time, back when I lived alone. I think it was 1995 or 96 or something.

Anyway, one fine Sunday afternoon, I spent about an hour rearranging the cupboards, as I do at least twice a year (yes, I am that anal) when I decided to start vaccuming the kicthen before I was even finished the other shit I was doing (yes, I am that obsessive compulsive).

I bent down to pull some shrivelled up bit of food that the vaccum was refusing to suck up. Then, I stood straight up whereby my skull cranked full force into one of the cupboard doors from the bottom up.

Next thing I know, I'm lying in the middle of the kitchen floor with my 15-pound cat sitting on my chest, mewing worriedly.

I had no idea how much time had passed, but I had the biggest nastiest headache I have EVER felt in my entire life. Turns out I had a mild concussion, and couldn't work the next day for the lightning bolts shooting out of my left eye. I had to tell my manager what had happened.

Though I had considered lying, I was just too exhausted to bother. He almost didn't believe me seeing as only a couple of months earlier I had given myself a hairline fracture in the nose by smashing my face into a sliding-glass door (which unfortunately DID actually happen - but that's another story).

Not that I really cared what he thought of me. He wore shorts and leather sandals to my interview. Oh, and he called me the afternoon before my first day to tell me that he had changed his mind and that I woulsn't actually be starting work atOHNOI'mjustkiddingahahahahahaaaaaaahahahaha..ahem...

Bastard.

SAWEEEET-TAH!

Here's the official invite. I'm first on the list.

Smother me with your sweet love

My grandmother came home from the hospital today. She is having some kind of lower-intestinal issue due to the lack of fiber in her diet. She's OK, but still a little shaken.

Hell, if I woke up one morning bleeding profusely from my ass, I would most certainly FREAK THE FUCK OUT. And I'm not someone's 81 year-old grandmother.

I haven't been sleeping very well. Basically, I'm over-emotional with a hair-trigger, snappy-retort reflex set off by just about everything that Kirk seems to do/not do and/or say/not say. My hormones certainly have added fuel to the fire.

I think he is just about ready to smother me with my own pillow.

damned kids

holy shit