Another art show. A semi-mandatory and non-merit-based senior student art exhibition at Southern Connecticut’s State University’s Earl Hall’s Hall-Way non-gallery pedestrian space, Wednesday, at 7pm. Despite being a hallway it is an improvement on my previous gallery zone, which was a cramped office floor in a multi-purpose building (though it at least had carpeting and was in a part of town with fewer reports of armed robbers who have eluded apprehension).

I assume nobody will see this prior to then, and nobody who could have gone will ever see it, and so there ought to have been no reason to announce it, but I felt a nagging need to, and so that is what I have done. Once this is done, I can get back to…regular annoying educational matters that have nothing to do with art. I don’t actually get to leave until May, and instead of leaving I will just be staying in one place more frequently.

I am required to hold a “reception,” and I spent far too many dollars purchasing bad snacks (I only buy good snacks for myself) because I kept thinking things like “well maybe somebody likes cookies but not THIS sort of cookie,” because, historically, lacking any social abilities, my primary reason for attending parties has been to eat awful things, and too often the arrangers did not consider what awful I would want to eat. So instead of using the opportunity to take proxy revenge on people who were never aware I existed through providing snacks nobody -except- me would want to eat, I swallowed all the guilt and anxiety without chewing and will probably choke on it. I hope to have a more coherent writeup of the circumstances in [some point later than a month from now], because I need to make clear that this is not a personal accomplishment. I do not know how to relate to successful people and would hate to lose my own support.
In any event (but this one specifically) I should be full of stories afterward, unless I faint, in which circumstance the story will be more interesting and mercifully briefer.

I do have pictures of promotional imagery, but I also want to go to bed at some point this week.

Please do not congratulate me. I don’t expect that from you, certainly, but from my experience people enjoy not just bragging about good stuff that happened to them but then rollicking in expressions of approval from others for having done a thing that was already personally satisfying. Why don’t you congratulate me when I mess up? Because it will seem sarcastic. And I implied this was a mess-up, didn’t I? (yes) Right so it all works out.

Even if it weren’t, every bum in this degree program has to or may do this. It is not a recognition of any accomplishment beyond consistently paying money that I borrowed to this dumb school and not being quite so dysfunctional that I was prohibited from the right to give it [someone’s] money. The exhibition counts as a 1 credit “class” which I also pay for. So here I am legitimately attempting to raise awareness in some highly improbable hypothetical attendees.
Anyhow, I am still behind on acknowledging birthday greetings. Indeed it is probably best not to acknowledge me in any form that I can reciprocate but appear to have chosen not to if I fail to.
Ideally at some point in the future I will have an opportunity that occurs at a place and time where I can do something with it, and making a mess of that will be an all new experience.

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It has concluded. Nothing awful occurred, but it didn’t accomplish anything, either. I am used to that, but I prefer to accomplish nothing and not quite commit atrocities in my own home without spending any money.