Painting is hard, mmmkay?

Hey! How was your weekend? Mine was swell. Saturday, after going to work for a few hours (boy, do I hope not to have to type THAT combination of words again for a long time), I went to my painting class. But I went two hours early. Tha's right! I spent two extra hours being hardcore. Hardcore and obsessive. Because my drawing from last week's class had begun to haunt me in that the more I thought about it, the crappier I remembered it. So I made myself go early and re-draw the whole thing.

Man, was I glad I had. When I pulled it out of the closet I almost barfed at the sight. The big water jug, which was the main and largest object, was right in the middle of the canvas. Gack - Lame City! Things that are really balanced look amateurish, and I cannot be thought of that way by my fellow students. So I redid it, and I am proud to say that the final version resembled a Rembrandt. But then actual class began. Once I started painting it in, the damn thing became a Picasso, in that the objects went all crazy and refused to adhere to the laws of physics and nature. So I still have some work to do. But dude, I am proud of my obsessively anal work ethic, at least.

And then, Saturday night, I went out with an awesomely random group of people, none of whom knew each other. We drank for five hours straight, so you see that it was a successful night. I had two Toasted Almonds, and they were so good I went to my Happy Place. I made everyone try them, and we all agreed that they tasted like the Good Humor toasted almond ice cream bars we ate as kids. Run right out and order this drink! And then go to your Happy Place!

Sunday I went out to this big street fair, which was a madcap whirlwind of culture 'n' stuff. Very colorful and exciting, and there were lovely smells of jerk chicken and funnel cakes floating around, but it was very hot so I couldn't really devote myself to the food 'n' culture. I had to concentrate on not sweating so much that my friends got embarrassed of me and ditched me, or, barring that, not sweating so much that I passed out and was trampled by an African tribal dancer. Success on both counts, thankfully!

Sunday night I watched South Park, and man, I want to marry whoever created that show.