My computer is so old...

...it runs on coal.

Yankees Game

I went to my very first Yankees game today. When bringing beer back to our seats, I accidentally splashed some down my seersucker jacket. At first I was sad, but really, a seersucker jacket isn't a seersucker jacket until alcohol has spilled on it.

Croquet, anyone?

The New Museum

Dear Yale University,

We regret to inform you that you no longer hold the number one position of "America's Best Douchebag Farms." With the opening of the exhibit, "Younger Than Jesus," it is clear that The New Museum has jumped ahead in both producing and cultivating douchebags.

Although you may argue that, as a larger institution, you may produce more douchebags than the relatively small New Museum, their douchebags are leaps and bounds ahead in the quality of their douchebaggery.

We are sorry to have to take this prized accolade from you, but there is always next year.


Signed,

US News and World Report

Nerf Guns

One of my suitemates brought home a nerf gun she got at work today. She works in finance. I work in a museum. Attention everyone: finance is more creative than museums.

I had a wonderful time pointing at things in the apartment saying, "DOES MARCELLUS WALLACE LOOK LIKE A BITCH?" and "GIVE ME YOUR SANDWICH."

I don't know how much my roommates liked it, though.

QI

When you have lived in Britain for a time, like I have, and then go back to the colonies, you begin to yearn for the dulcet tones of the motherland. Luckily, the BBC has a youtube page.

Rain Rain GTFO

No one told me New York had a monsoon season. I've been tricked.

Foucault's Pendulum

"'But what courses did we put under Oxymoronics? Oh, yes, here we are: Tradition in Revolution, Democratic Oligarchy, Parmenidean Dynamics, Heraclitean Statics, Spartan Sybaritics, Tautological Dialectics, Boolean Eristic.'

I couldn't resist throwing in 'How about a Grammar of Solecisms?'" - p. 75

Umberto Eco, put your dick away. I do not want to see that.

Fifth Ave Festival

Today, Fifth Avenue was closed from 82nd to 100-and-whatever for the Museum Mile festival. All the museums were open late and teh free. My friend and I went to the Met, which I suppose is the obvious choice, but I happen to like my museums big and full of cranky babies.

We went up to the European Paintings wing, where I said allo to my favorite painting:

Jacques Louis-David, Antoine-Laurent Lavoisier (1743–1794) and His Wife (Marie-Anne-Pierrette Paulze, 1758–1836), 1788

I imagine the scene went something like this...

ANNE-P: Oh hello husband. Working on that oxygen thing again?

LAVOISIER: I forget. Say, your boobs look nice today. My face would like to form a covalent bond with them.

We wandered around the altarpieces for a while, making the lamest of art history jokes (is that one-point perspective in your background, or are you just happy to see me?). It was only a trial version of the Met; they closed off all the awesome stuff like the Medieval wing. I don't care about the Egypt wing--they were just as dead as they were last year. We went through the Francis Bacon exhibit in about a minute, because it was room after room of "Am I freaking you out now? How about NOW?"

When we got back outside, someone had put buckets of chalk on the street, and all the grown-ups drew all over Fifth Ave. I drew George Washington, because he is an American hero.


After that, we got ice cream from a truck and generally made a nuisance of ourselves on the train back downtown. I am sorry if you did not want to hear my impression of Larry King, taciturn riders of the 6, but I will have my funnies whether you like it or not.

Fireflies on the Water

The problem with the job I'm doing right now is I get too look at pictures of stuff like this and regret that I won't get to experience it in person.

Yayoi Kusama, Fireflies on the Water (2002)

MoCCA Fest Part Deux

Oh, I am sorry if I gave you the impression that the MoCCA fest was just Kate Beaton sitting under a Bodhi tree dispensing wisdom. In fact, it wasn't a tree, but a giant gun house: The Lexington Avenue Armory. It's a pretty cool place, if you like arms...and COMICS.

It was a really fun, but sort of bizarre experience. There were people and things that I only knew online, as not-reality. And then too see those people and books in real life was like, weird. For example, I met Dylan Meconis, whose comic Bite Me! was the first webcomic I EVER READ. I was like, "Dude, this is so weird to see in person after five years." And she was like, "You're telling me."

I had met Jason, another amazing graphic-novelist, earlier that week when I happened to be at the Strand during his book signing. I couldn't go get another one of his books because a.) I had no moneys left and b.) I was wearing the same outfit. He is an artist, I am sure he would have noticed.

I also ran into my favorite people in the world, Matthew Swanson and Robbi Behr of Idiots' Books. They make beautiful and hysterical books, and also taught a collaborative bookmaking workshop at Williams. (My partner and I wrote/illustrated a new tell-all on the life of that great American tart, Emily Dickinson.) They have me a copy of The Baby is Disappointing, which is even funnier if you've met their baby.

I also think it is important for you to know that, out of the eight hundred million people at a comic book festival, I was the only one wearing madras shorts. PREPPY NERDS UNITE.

MoCCA Fest

ATTENTION NERDS: I HAVE MET KATE BEATON AND DRANKETH FROM HER FOUNT OF FUNNY.

The Bronx is Up and the Battery's Down

Back in the NYC for another unpaid museum internship. I just can't get enough of not being paid stuff!