Well here we are again. 


Things have been...Somewhat moving. Shows and shows and more shows and more art. The booze and shmooze I call it...
I enjoy them, the art shows and the people and all that. It's just that sometimes it gets a little tiring plastering that smile on my face and racking my brain for only the best of conversation starters...
Overall I'd say that last one was a success. I enjoyed myself and smoked a couple of doobies throughout, keeping myself in some state of permafried comfort. 
I hated being all dolled up. I was wearing a skirt and some type of eighties-styled shirt that sat off my shoulder. The balls of my feet are still hurting from wearing high heels (something I never, ever do), and that was three days ago. I was literally hobbling by the end of the night. I've never felt so awkward and nervous for a show before, simply because of the fact I was out of my element and there was no where to go from there. 

Just smile and go with it. Words to live by I guess. Just smile through it, usually they can't tell that it's mostly fake