#179

as i lay in my bed, in my hot pink betsey johnson socks, i can only reflect on today with a smile on my face.

i finally managed to do my nails [on my own] properly. i got rid of my scene kids hair cut, now i look more mature with a layered bob.

the identity exhibit. oh em gee. it was absolutely amazing. here's the play by play:

walking into the gallery, you see works from a female french artist.

after a really long hallway of more pieces like these, you finally get to franklin's pieces.

there was a card next to every piece, stating the model's name and ethnicity. i wish i took a picture of the cards. it listed the ethnicities: black, white, asian, hispanic, and other, and each card had other selected, then explained the other in each model.

upon my arrival, i met an associate of franklin's, patrick. he's an amazing photographer/hair stylist and he wants to shoot me. here's some of his work:

christina and i checked out the other artist's work, while naquan waited around. christina called him the elephant in the room. he seemed so uncomfortable in that setting, but i'm more than happy that he was there to support me.

christina and i had a taste of that absynthe. it's a green liquor that's known as a hallucinogenic drink. allegedly, it's become illegal. according to the french woman, this is what vangoh drank a lot of. it's was diluted and mixed with sugar. it tasted like licorice. chris had about three sips and put down her cup. i held on for a bit longer [until she took it away from me.]

by the time we left, i was starving. no one was in the restaurant mood, so mcdonalds on canal got a visit from us. my baby was exhausted. he went out for his uncle's birthday last night, and had a game this morning, so he was running on less than five hours of sleep. he could barely stay awake.on the train ride home, chris and i reminisced about my pole dance i did a few summers ago. i tried reenacting it [an unsuccessful attempt, of course.]

my mother was clueless about the exhibit, or about the fact that i started modeling again. this exhibit was a big thing to me, a really big accomplishment, so i invited those who were supportive of me. my darling jack got lost. i'm not upset with him. i'm not even disappointed. he made an attempt to make it, and i thank him very much. i've always seen christina as a fan. not in a groupie kind of way, but more of a as my friend, i'll be behind you every step of the way kind of way. i missed hanging out with her. i was so happy she came. but travis and karla? i swear, sometimes i don't understand why i even make attempts to hang with them, or even why i let them get to me. travis complains about us not hanging out and not being the way we used to be. well hello there, freakin' genius, it's because you do bullshit like this all the goddamn time. i've been calling, texting, and IMing travis all damn day. no where to be found; typical travis. but at 6:30, he wants to text me to tell me he's at the barber shop and won't make it, but we can meet up after.. really? it's not like he had a damn job to go to during the day, or much of anything else to do, so why the fuck would he wait until the last fuckin' minute to do that shit? i was just so upset. i still am. i don't know when i'll get over it.

things like this make me wonder how much i really mean to people.

this is so not messing up my vibe. i'm high off life, and chillaxin' on cloud nine. i'm about to doze off . .