I went to an art gallery opening in DC this weekend

And while it was nice, very hip and loud and everything, i had a real issue with the people who were there. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like i had any illusions about what people at this sort of party would be like. I knew that the men would look like sexy hobo clowns sans makeup (in most cases) and that the women would be thin and giggly and gorgeous and that everyone would be working extra hard to come across as sufficiently bored by the whole thing.note to self: the more menacing the alleyway entrance, the better the music

Actually, what bothered me was a real palpable sense of an existential inferiority complex I was getting from everything. It wasn’t anything that I could lay my finger on, but pretty much everyone seemed like they would rather be doing exactly what they were doing except doing it in New York city somewhere. Yeah, that was it. Everybody wanted to really be in New York, but somehow they were in this converted warehouse space in Eastern Market.

Ah well, it was a nice night. And my friend Anita who is wacky and amazing was there so it wasn’t totally a loss. Oh! And there was a Belly Dancer, which I love, because belly dancers are the best. She wasn’t actually very good though. I think she might have been on some kind of substance because her movements were kind of jerky at times. But that’s ok. I liked her belly.


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