Shopping!

My mother (the second of three readers of this blog) would be so proud of me. Today I went with my hip-sorority-girl (hsg) and downtown-lipstick-lesbian (dll) pals/co-workers to Lord & Taylor and bought a pretty new dress for the "Oscars of the art world" - the Biennial opening. hsg was rooting for something purple and taffeta from the designer sale rack but I was a little too reminded of the dress I wore to my brother's wedding and then wore only once to another wedding where the highlight of my evening was my now-ex attempting to take a nap on the couch at the Harvard Club. Needless to say, I was terrified away from the shiny purple dress and instead bought a cute strapless blue eyelet number- kind of punk-cowboy- that dll approved of. Now all I have to do is bedazzle some cowboy boots and confront my potential date. Sorry y'all don't get to see the dress - I looked for a pic online but no luck, and I think I spent the money I was saving for the digicam on the dress itself. As my scary frosh roomate used to say, "Fashion not function darling!"

Geekin' on the subway!

I stole this picture from gleek.net, hope (s)he doesn't mind, but it was the most amazing thing that came up by googling "subway knitting."
The point being, I have achieved total knitgeek subway bliss through the discovery of KNITTING POD CASTS. I listened to my first one today, the adorable Annie Modesitt on KnitCast. So I am working away at my modified v-neck-not-cardigan Lucky, plugged into the Nano, when Ms. Modesitt started talking about how when she was in her twenties and living in New York, she decided to begin working professionally as a knitwear designer. So every day, she would go to a different museum and spend all day in the museum knitting. I about died at this vision of paradise. So check it out. There's another one called Cast On that I just subscribed to, another update after tomorrow's commute!

it doesn't really have much to do with this posting, but for the cutest ipod cozy ever check this out. Not sure if I'd pay five bucks, but M**k C***k will.

I get to call it art. Eventually.

Just realized that it is the 1-year anniversary of this here blog. Good thing I decided to pay attention again.
Today, after a very exciting six hours at thesis central I decided to do a little recreational research by seeing the new documentary "Who Gets to Call it Art?", about former Met curator of contemporary art Henry Geldzahler. It was fine. And apparently the answer to the title question is, independently wealthy gay white guys. I mean, I think Geldzaher is cool and stuff, I even liked his book, but two mentions of Helen Frankenthaler in the whole movie pissed my feminist ass off. Plus flick was a little ADD, with Calvin Tomkins and Ivan Karp talking over an abstract-expressionist blooper reel and "edgy" music going in the background the whole damn time. And David Hockney, well, the film could have been sixty, not eighty minutes long. Whatever, I guess it was worth ten bucks to hear Frank Stella talk about how Geldzahler's exhibitions placed contemporary art in historical context. Or at least see him wave around the same cup of coffee for eighty minutes. Aargh. Anyway, Film Forum has good popcorn.

Mr. San-Man, bring me a dream ...

Ok, after so many (well, two) requests, I'm back!
Upon the sad day of my resignation of the weirdest job ever, I made my beloved boss the weirdest/sweetest knitted item ever, for her 6-month-old grandson. (we snapped pix in the lunchroom and photoshopped till it was perfect.)

yes, its a baby sweater-uniform for the city's youngest san-man. You're right, it's amazing.

Still no digicam, but I'm weighing two options for the 5 seconds I get to splurge when I get my loan check: ultra-fancy jeans or a camera. Feedback welcome... the blog, or looking cute on all my upcoming single-girl dates? Decisions, decisons.

Gentrification

I have to say, I am loving gentrification a little bit, as today is the first day ever that I am sitting in my comfy armchair here on Madison Street borrowing someone else's Wi-Fi. What's next, Larry's Liquid Love changing to Larry's Luscious Latte? Don't hate me because I love espresso ...

If I have any readers left, I apologize for the lack of posts recently. I blame my broken digicam (hmm, a gift idea?) but for the um, two, of you who might be interested in a knitting update, I finished JK's sweater, so now I can get down to the very serious business of ChrismaHannuKwaanzakuh knitting. It's really gorgeous. It's this pattern in lovely blue Vermont homespun yarn with a natural color stripe. And extremely long arms. And a nonsensical yellow square at the back neck, because it's for JK. Ok, now, use your imagination. Or FedEx me a camera ...

Again

My digital camera, after a prolonged illness, is finally toast, and the repair estimate is $168. So I am not able to share my latest baby knitting accomplishment, for a new child whose relationship to me is far too complicated to explain, but is nevertheless deserving of a cardie. See the link above to knitty and the pix in my March 05 archive, and imagine lovely slate blue yarn from a yard sale in Somerville, Mass. But no hood. No baby is as cool as Aviva Berry, and therefore no baby gets a sweater as cool as hers. We gotta draw the line somewhere, people, I'm sure you understand.

Last Time Hot Cha Went Away...

A floating island was his home. Then the phone rang off the hook and Hot Cha had to ... change his name to Robert Smithson?
My camera was dead at the opening of "Floating Island to Travel around Manhattan Island", so pardon the pilfered Times image. To really apprecitate it, though, it helps to see Smithson's drawing at the Whitney exhibition, and then marvel at how the Whitney, Minetta Brook, Nancy Holt and a team of landscapers that include my neighbor enacted the quirky, silly, cute, and profound floating sculpture concieved by Smithson in the 1970's.
The opening lacked wine or breathing room but still had a carnival atmosphere created by a bunch of jaded New York art people overcoming their skepticism and experiencing true surprise and glee to see something unique and actually, ahem, fun.
I still want a ride on it, though.