Culture of Bohemia

I bought an art yesterday. I was going to avoid downtown but then I decided that I wanted to go buy a comic book so I headed down there and discover, to my shock and awe (lame joke? never!), that there was a huge art sale-thingy going on. I mean, ten-fifteen blocks of tents filled with every visual medium (non-moving picture mediums at least) you can think of. I walked around for hours, just looking at everything and being more and more and more impressed by the people's work that I saw. I still feel like an idiot talking to artists because I have no fucking clue what to say "that is a pretty... color." Or, "oh, I like the way the light plays with the, uh, light." Regardless I talked to a few of them. Most of the stuff was out of my price range, but I found a perfect priced/sized piece and went and found the wacky artist and bought it. I wish I could describe what it is, but it is so abstract and surreal that it would be hard to put into words.... okay, you got me, its a picture of two gorrillas sitting on massive piles of bananas. One of the gorrillas pile is, like, way bigger than the others and the one on the smaller pile is looking at the other with all this disdain in his eyes. It's called "Envy," and I love it. I wanted the big one but it was like $300, worth it if I had the money to spend, but I don't. The print I got was $15. Totally worth it.

I went on a date last night. I haven't been on a date in a little while, last night reminded me why. The only girls that are crazy enough to go out with me are, well, crazy. And I don't know if it was telling every guy she met in one bar that she loved them or taunting a bouncer at another place or skipping and yelling like a fourteen year old while we were walking between places or running into her seventeen year old cousin who was a little high and with her drug dealing fiancee with the guarentee that her baby was safe at home or just listening to this girl talk about the stupidist shit for hours on end, but something just wasn't right (that's what we call an understatement, also there was more crap that I won't even bother to mention because it was more depressing than just sad). What makes it all worse is that knowing that I am a guy and that had the opportunity arose I still would have slept with her. Its probably good that it didn't, then, but then again it would have made for a more enjoyable night. Well, at least there would have been some icing on the shit-cake that was the rest of the night.

Fuck it, its funny in its way. And it did give me something to do last night other than read and watch epsiodes of curb your enthusiasm which was what I probably would have done last night (and will do tonight, huzzah!). I guess the first girl I met here I shouldn't have expected to be a perfect match, but a guy can dream. The real problem is that there is a girl back in Reno that might be a near perfect match for me. We got pretty close right before I left, but then nothing was going to happen between us since she is technically still married. You know, until that pesky divorce business is over. So nothing happened and nothing happened and then I was like "well, I'm leaving." And I did. But we keep talking and I can't stop thinking that maybe I walked away from someone who actually would have been perfect for me, but I didn't walk away completely and I don't know if she really feels the same about me as I told her I do about her, but she claims to at least. But she's not ready to move on just yet but in time, yeah, in time. Oh god, sometimes I fear that my life is actually a really poorly written sitcom. That of course makes me wonder, just how poorly written are all those sitcoms? I mean, if this all sort of has the feel of a bad sitcom then maybe they have hit on a bit of a truth in those crappy half-hour spots. And I think thats what scares me the most.