I've had blogger open for an hour but kept opening tabs to surf the net instead of blog because I couldn't think of a snappy title. That's twice today. Snappy blog titles are part of my repetoir, so I hope this isn't a symptom of things to come. Soon I won't be able to remember fictional dialogues verbatim or draw snazzy stick figures on Adobe Illustrator. And then where would this blog be? That's right: sucktown
I went to see Brandon Morse's show at Connor Contemporary on Friday. I am totally enamored. If you're looking for a way to avoid doing any work for a couple of days, go visit his website
. My review
is up at DCist, which gave me a chance to geek-out just a little. Like a need an excuse.
I dragged a couple of my friends around to the gallery openings on Saturday, but I don't think I made any art converts. T was visiting from NYC and he and his boyfriend were just sitting around waiting for my roommates to get gayed out for a liquored-up night at Cobalt, so I forced them to walk down 14th with me. But for a couple of guys who think Cher's swagger on a navy ship is street art, I'm not sure the show at Transformer impressed them much. I even promised them free booze, but the gallery only had a keg and these boys don't touch the hops. Buzzkill.
Anyway, I had no idea how small Transformer is. You can stand in the middle of the room and practically touch every piece of art in it. We also stopped by the show at G Fine Art, which I found entertaining in a "oh my god, where am
I??" kinda way. I don't think that's necessarily an unusual feeling in art galleries though.
In other news, my lovely web designer hooked me up with the new passwords for my website (which he changed servers a couple of months ago), so I'm all ready to update. Since I got home early tonight I was planning to knock some stuff out, but I think it'll be tougher than I hoped. My friend is, like, a real
designer, so I think the html is a little more complex than your average fancy font work
. That, and my roommate and I are doing burrito night in a minute, which takes precedence.
Lastly, how about some work stories? On Friday, I finally got my lazy-ass into work around 2pm, after playing hookie all morning. Of course the office was mostly empty, so I was sitting at my desk rocking out to my iPod and doing some shitty paper-shuffling project. Since I work at a receptionist-type desk, people walk back and forth in front of me all day, often looking over to smile or say hello. So this older attorney who I see a lot, but have never been introduced to so we don't really talk, walked by my desk. I looked up and we smiled...but he kept staring at me as he walked past, like turning his head as his body kept moving forward. He kept staring as he started to pass the wall next to me, then stopped and backed up a step. By this time I'm totally weirded out, and slowly take off my earphones as he reversed back towards me. He leaned in close and said, "Don't celebrate
too hard tonight!" Then walked off. What. The. Fuck. In my confusion, I hesistated, then called after him, "Um, you either!"
Then today, since I had about four thousand projects I've been working on, my desk has become one huge pile of paper. A guy from the records department came by my desk with a big box, and said that my boss told him to bring it to me. Thanks, boss. I asked him to leave it on the non-window window-sill that divides my desk and the hallway. Later on that day, a woman came by and tapped the box, which scared the living daylights out of me because I couldn't see her behind it, and said, "trying to block the view?" I laughed, but then realized that if one more thing is placed on my desk, I will have officially disappeared. I could start small fires with my excessive kindling and roast marshmallows, or knit a sweater, or look at porn. Porn! Now I know what's on my agenda tomorrow.