Thursday, Feb. 25, 2010 - 8:24 a.m.

Grr, got my first rejection notice of the year. For what would have been my first big show of the season. I'm not too pissed-- I already knew that the jury changes every year, there are a lot of applicants in my category, and I've known other very good artists to get in one year and be rejected the next. Still. It represented something like 10% of my income last year, one hates to lose out on that. It's a fickle business, this.

That's all. Update: no, that's not all! I remembered that I wanted to say that it really doesn't bother me when other people talk on their cell phones. I don't see why it's any different than there being two people, talking. Only it's more fun to listen to because you can make up half of the conversation. I've heard a lot of griping about this lately, and I think people just gripe about it for the sake of having something to gripe about, or (for a more sociolinguistic analysis) they're using complaining as a solidarity-building device. But the truth is, me, I don't care.

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