Of Art Installations and Umbrage

And here is the completed Art Installation.

(The weird-looking thing hovering to the right of the Carmel Valley landscape is an origami butterfly made out of money. To commemorate our $10 bet.)

Did not come out anywhere close to perfect. I’m dissatisfied with the portraiture: The colors should be brighter. But that’s a limitation of my printer.

On the whole, though, for my first time doing this kind of – what would you call it? A shadow box? A diorama? – I was modestly pleased with the results.

I have no idea whether Max will like it.

He will like the check I send with it!

And I like it well enough so that I’ve begun planning my next Art Installation. For Eleanor’s birthday.

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Max has gotten into several policy schools already, though he has yet to hear from GSPP. (My alma mater! And apparently the top policy school in the U.S. Who knew? ) If he does get into GSPP, he’ll no doubt end up going there. So, I’m kinda hoping he doesn’t get in. It would be good for him to live outside the SF Bay Area if only for a little while.

The University of Chicago is one of the places he got accepted. I’m hoping he goes there. I love Chicago!

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In other news, FB friends are friends with one of the few Xs I really dislike. I tend to remain on good terms with my Xs. But not only do I dislike this X, even after 25 years or so, I actively dislike him. Like if I could find a reliable Santaria supply store, I’d buy a voodoo doll, bribe someone to get a sample of the X’s hair or fingernails and do extreme acupuncture on it.

Anyway, I stumbled across a posting from this X and immediately fell into an agitated state. This was mostly The Mood, of course.

While he was dating me, the X was having dreams about the woman he eventually went on to marry.

I was me – which is to say an overly aggressive, overly intense, overly self-dramatizing mess.

The wife-to-be was sweet, reserved, and quietly mindful.

UGH.

I fuckin’ hate her, too.

Anyway, I tossed and turned as I tried to fall asleep. The X and the sweet, reserved nonentity have a perfect life! Lots of money! The X is always traveling to little towns in the middle of nowhere to bleat out his ridiculous Grateful Dead-inspired guitar tunes! And posting on FB about his perfect life and how much he loves his wife! (Yes, yes. I peeked.)

Is it possible, my better self asked the churningly resentful and envious specter that is my worst self, that the X and his wife may be perfectly nice people and that their happiness does not diminish your happiness or chances for happiness in the slightest?

We’ll have to continue this conversation at another time! my worst self told my best self. And I thought you were my friend!

But I did fall asleep.