File under: how odd

940P just kicked me off his Friends(ter) list, which is so curious and interesting. I find the digital relationship management aspect of post-Internets human relating fascinating, and he hadn’t struck me as the type to manage his Friendster list so obsessively. I thought only I did that.

File under: wrinkle cream

Millsy is in town from LA!!! He took me to an event last night that was planned by someone in their early twenties. Here are my observations:

1. It was loud and the sound system was tinny. At around 11:30 the volume was turned up to eleven, which turned me into a crazy person. My personal version of hell. I wanted to kill everyone around me and told Mills we had to leave in fifteen minutes or else I would go insane.
2. There was a beer pong table there.
3. Beer was being served in plastic cups.
4. There were NYU girls present.
5. Girls were standing around in outfits that seemed like attempts-at-Sex-And-The-City, but they were wearing them with the slumped shoulders and self-consciousness of the 25-and-under set.
6. The guys looked like they were 12 and were also self-conscious. How did I not notice that when I was 25-and-under? Ah yes, I was too busy being self-conscious.
7. Karaoke is not compelling if you do not know the other people and are not interested in getting to know the other people.
8. How was it that I was the only person wearing Chuck Taylors? It may have been the only bar in all of New York City south of 14th street for which that was true.

Conclusion: I am old. I would much rather go to a bar that kids cannot afford, if only because it means that they cannot play beer pong there while injecting their loud pop music into my ear drums. I want good conversation, and I want it in a well-planned space with nice background music and drinks that aren’t priced to encourage projectile vomiting out of a cab that speeds south on the FDR en route to another party.

I have been there, the early to mid twenties, and it was fun while it lasted, and I’m not hating on these kids today. Not at all. But they can play in their playground, and I can play in mine, and I think Mills and I learned an important lesson last night: Don’t leave event planning in the hands of a power-hungry control-freaky child. Event planning is strictly the provenance of power-hungry control-freaky adults!

File under: renegade artisan / artist / useful objects for Maslow’s 3.14th level of needs

I just got back from a fantastic afternoon enjoying the Renegade Craft Fair in Billyburg’s McCarren Park. It’s much better this year than last (more energy; crafters are better organized and booths designed more nicely). If you can go tomorrow, do so, and be sure to check out the following boofs:

bright lights little city

Heather Wells graduated from RISD in ‘02 and makes these supercute lamps out of drink umbrellas. I bought the cutest lampshade ever from her and am so excited to rock it in my kitchen. Plus her mom was there to help her sell. How adorable!! Of course her presence and her art school cred complicate the artisan v crafter v artist war, but no matter …

Modern Planet

Danielle McGurran is a really cute and funny woman that I think might be lesbian. My favorite tee of hers was a graphic of a rubber cement canister named “starving artist” with a reference to needing validation. Some of her stuff was a little too dark thematically for the place I’m in these days (e.g., “Dead Inside”), but I picked up a tee shirt to give as a gift. (She screens on men’s tee shirts and I no longer buy men’s tee shirts for self.)

So Softies

Marilyn Patrizio is an illustrator and fine artist born and raised in Brooklyn. I got some sheep - themed stuff her because I am obsesed with sheep; my little sister and I will not rest until we can get the Burberry sheep with wheels in our living room. Until then, sheep-related goods must do. Marilyn was inspired by something she’d seen across the pond in the U.K. so this is the newest addition to her collection. Her octopus is also ultra-cute, I was forced to pat it on the head thrice to see its little legs bounce up and down in delight.

DeLong Press

Denise DeLong makes these ultraplayful collages capturing a positive energy. I get happy just looking at her stuff, and I recently rearranged the four prints of hers that I owned in my tea drinking spot so that I can gaze upon them while getting my chakras in order. (Did you know that if you aren’t peeing once every two hours it means you are dehydrated? Allegedly. What does this mean for nighttime?)

girlie pants

Okay, so, the thong I got is apparently not online, but as a proud Yale College alumna I found it necessary to purchase a preppy pink and green number with a skull & bones graphic lovingly screen printed on the cha cha region. Sadly, there is no crafter info online, but the girl seemed nice and was bemoaning the state of affairs regarding wholesale underpanties (American Apparel size selection is limited — Adrian, get on that!). She lives in Cleveland and, AND, and there is a special discount — get 15% off with code renegade06 at checkout (good through 7.31.06).

It’s going to be 90 degrees tomorrow (yesssss!!) so be sure to hydrate enough to pee once every two hours and wear sunscreen if you are a honkey.

File under: pleasant addition

My dating hiatus is officially over after three exciting weeks of ANP self-love (but not in the onophile (sp?) sense). I believe I have finally and successfully completed the mission, nay, challenge set forth by my therapist over and year ago and am now in a place where men are filed under the category of “pleasant addition to an otherwise rich, full, and interesting life” and not in the category of “necessary validator without which I will surely die”. And, ooh! Ooh, it is so nice to no longer objectify boys in such a reductive and demeaning way (sorry guys).

I am now going to go lay out all the spoils of my day onto my bedspread and stare at them and feel good about myself.