rue-madame's Diaryland
Diary
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I go out on Friday night and I come home on Saturday morning
The LACMA show was interesting, more for the art-school attendees than for the actual art installations. The drinks were too expensive so Tracy and I spent most of the time looking at cute boys. I found my fake boyfriend after about 15 minutes. He was a lean Mathieu Kassovitz lookalike with: * cultivated bedhead * nerd glasses * navy blue mechanic-type jacket * low-slung 501s with black stud belt, and of course * lowtop black Chuck Taylors I realize that he was dressed in the Art School Fashion and that there were probably 43 other boys who had the exact same outfit on, but criminy, he was soooooo cute! I couldn�t even really look directly at him. And furthermore, on top of being perfect, he was wily, and I had a hell of a time keeping track of his whereabouts. Finally, I couldn�t take it anymore so I said to Tracy, �Oh my god, I just spotted the Cutest Guy Ever but I can�t see him anymore so we have to find him.� So began the stalking. It didn�t take long to locate him, and when I finally pointed him out, she agreed that he was the darlingest of all the art fags present. He was with one girl, then another girl, and then we spied him writing something in another girl�s agenda... what the #@$%?? Tracy didn�t recognize him from her school, so we determined that he must be either a student at Otis or UCLA or CalArts, or a friend of a student who attends Otis or UCLA or CalArts. Now begins the art school stalking. Kidding. The whole thing was actually pretty boring. Just a bunch of older art patrons and younger wan + artfully detached students. We left and decided to walk through the LACMA parking lot which is THE coolest parking garage in the United States. Why, you ask? Because the middle level has a bunch of Barry McGee and Margaret Kilgallen murals and it�s radder than rad. Rad! And what should happen just as we are heading towards THE coolest parking garage in the United States? The Cutest Guy Ever comes bounding behind us, and runs past, all arms and legs and floppy hair. My stomach flipped and I felt ten years younger (therefore, closer to his age. I�m guessing, sure, but he had very little facial hair and appeared to have a smooth, hairless chest...) In the 3 seconds it took for me to register his presence and rejoice, I directed, produced and starred in my own love story where I lied about my age, registered at his school, became his confidante, lover, teacher, sex mistress. If it sounds like my Feature was more pornographic than commercial, I have two words to say to you: art film. Duh. After the exciting parking garage, we ate at Cadillac, and for the first time in a while, had abysmal service. When the food finally arrived, it was delicious as usual (for those keeping track: gouda fondue, roasted pear salad, glass of red wine.) It was nice to spend time with Tracy and talk face to face, rather than on the phone. Yesterday was a blur of household projects, and today is going to be a little less productive. I�m sure Terence would like for today to be reproductive, but I�d like to get a jump on screenprinting and designing holiday cards. Maybe we can have sex around 4 o�clock (it�s not that I�m scheduling sex, I just like that time of day because the light changes and gets softer and you can have coffee before or after which is almost nicer than a cigarette in my book.) : unrelated items that I couldn�t weave into this highly cohesive entry : Terence bought a bird-feeder, filled it with seed and hung it on our balcony, and is now checking for birds every 2 seconds. Thank you to Rose who graciously informed me that United Bamboo might be available at Curve on Robertson. On a related fashion note, I�ve discovered where the LA Sigerson Morrison store is going to be: on 3rd Street, right next door to OK, my favorite design store. There�s a Flash class offered Winter term, and I�m thinking about taking it. I�m really against excessive Flash use in websites; as a matter of fact, if there�s an �html version� option on a site, I usually click it because Flash drives me crazy. The other day, this annoying hausfrau in my screenprinting class was going on and on about what she had done in PhotoShop, and I said to Terence �You know your skills are obsolete when a housewife talks nonchalantly about PhotoShop.� This is what prompted me to consider learning a new software package. There�s also an intermediate ballet class offered 4 days a week at the college, and that could be fun (or incredibly frustrating, depending.)
12:42 p.m. - 2002-11-24
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