Christine

carte @ 2008-07-23T23:54:00

2008-07-24T06:56:16Z

Things on my to-do list for today:
put away clothing
do dishes
grocery shopping
mail shoes

Things I did not do today:
put away clothing
do dishes
grocery shopping
mail shoes

carte @ 2008-07-23T12:59:00

2008-07-23T20:00:49Z

Career goal: work for John McCain's design team. Wow.

carte @ 2008-07-22T15:10:00

2008-07-22T22:13:46Z

I guess I've been referring to D as D for the last six years. Ridiculous! His name is Daniel. Daniel and I said good-bye the night before he deployed for Iraq, which was Saturday. I don't even know how to talk about that so I guess I just won't, and spare you, dear readers, all of the melodramatic details. In lieu of theatrics, here are some photographs from my latest hike:

We did cheat a bit upon coming across an operating chair lift, as I have never been on a chair lift in the summer. It was terrifying and I faced my fear of heights for the second time this month! We then hiked to the top of the mountain, many of the trees were destroyed several years ago during a fire.

carte @ 2008-07-16T18:29:00

2008-07-17T01:30:48Z

Internet, I have never been so sweaty in my life. Yes, I know I complain with alarming frequency about the lack of air conditioning at my internship, but my god. This suggests only one thing: the longest, sweatiest day of my life. The heat is also presumably making me more assertive. I have gotten to the point where I no longer ask permission to do things: I announce. I state "I am going to get some iced coffee" with unprecedented authority, which gets me called things like "a take-charge individual" and "task-oriented" and "efficient." But enough of this nonsense, certainly I do not sit here at the computer all day and have nothing to show for it. I was quite productive today in fact, I can blame this mostly on the phone call I received late last night from a certain ex-boyfriend who joined the military. He called me from a pay-phone in the middle of California and we had the type of dramatic conversation you would expect from someone calling his ex-girlfriend three days before he is deployed to Iraq. The conversation even ended with the pay-phone cutting out mid-sentence, really I could not have asked for more of a Lifetime Original Movie moment. Fueled by my histrionics and a burning desire to not listen to Cat Stevens and cry in my boss's office, I discovered many interesting things today on the internet during my research.

I.
I came across The Commons on Flickr, which is a space where photography archives can upload their collections. If only my real job (which is assisting the registrars in a photography archive) would become part of this. Here are two of my favorites so far from The Commons:

II.
The Whitney Museum uploaded images of their 2008 Biennial Catalogue to their Flickr account, which features artwork by children. From their description:

For the 2008 Biennial, we partnered with artist Matthew Brannon, who designed and created our Family Guide. Matthew created four engaging activities to help parents and kids explore the Biennial exhibition on their own.

Since contemporary art—especially art in the Biennial—can generate a lot of strong opinions, Matthew decided to ask kids what THEY thought of the artwork they had seen in the exhibition. We asked kids to write or draw a note for an artist in the exhibition, and by submitting it, all participants received a limited edition print of "Mixed Nuts" by Matthew Brannon himself, especially for the project!

The result is pretty spectacular, if I do say so myself. Here are some of my favorites:

Max, age 8, for Matthew Brannon

Molly, age 6, for Claes Oldenburg (I love Oldenburg)

Dylan, age 5, for Robert Rauschenberg

Nico, age 4, for Matthew Brannon

carte @ 2008-07-16T16:56:00

2008-07-16T23:58:53Z

Oh hey Internet, Yosemite was pretty fun.

Why does this never get old? Clearly I am the ultimate in productivity at my internship. Here is a visual representation of my day, courtesy of Graphjam.com, which I have been looking at all day as well, making me even more productive than usual:

carte @ 2008-07-11T03:14:00

2008-07-11T10:17:21Z

The leak in my kitchen ceiling is like having my own very personal waterfall. Thank you Mr Maintenance Man for failing to show up again today, I very much appreciate this, otherwise I would not be awake at 3 in the morning watching my kitchen flood. I ran through the rain back to my apartment an hour ago with my neighbor and we are now both sopping wet. Who knew that three blocks of running through rainfall could be so wet? I waded through the torrential currents flooding the streets in my not-meant-for-wading-through-torrential-currents sandals. My clothes are soaked, my hair is matted to my forehead, my feet are pruning. I must observe that it is very nice to come home to a flooding kitchen while you yourself have already been flooded. The flood is slowly approaching my bathroom and I am simply too tired to deal with this, yes, you heard me correctly Mr Landlord, I am not dealing with this. Tomorrow night when it rains again I shall build a raft and sail into my kitchen from the street. Afterwards, I shall re-enact the Cascades in Jackson, Michigan, by constructing some sort of colored light feature behind my waterfall and charging people five dollars to look at it.

carte @ 2008-07-10T11:19:00

2008-07-10T18:34:59Z

Every morning I wake up to NPR, the sweet sounds of "war" and "nuclear weapons" ringing in my ears; I am starting to think that this is exacerbating my fear of death. Then I drink coffee on my front porch, contemplating what I would do if a couple of missiles were launched my way. I have not reached any definite conclusions regarding this matter, but when I do I will certainly let you know, dear readers. This is all obviously a very nice, relaxing way to start the morning.

carte @ 2008-07-08T15:08:00

2008-07-08T22:10:55Z

I threw together an odd little mix-tape early this morning: minimalism.muxtape.com. It's a bit of what I've been listening to recently, though I've spared you most of the sunshine pop and psychedelia.

I am entirely falling in love with my city. This took ten years. I must also observe that this has become an expensive love affair, depending predominantly on my own checkbook. I've been frequenting The Little Café Poca Cosa over lunch hour and consuming copious amounts of their vegetarian tamales, mint lemonade, and horchata mixed with iced coffee. Sundays I occasionally eat breakfast at The Cup at Hotel Congress and lately I've been drinking their over-priced but extremely delicious mimosas, which make me embarrassingly tipsy until two or three in the afternoon. Avocado sandwiches from Time Market, the half-and-half with farfalle pesto and salad from The B-Line, noddy toddys at Epic, maple-walnut granola with coconut from 17th Street Market, spinach tacos from La Indita.

The last few days I've been running errands for my internship, no small task in 110-degree weather. I take my sweet time, drinking iced tea that tastes curiously like banana bread, admiring the architecture in certain parts of downtown, occasionally running into acquaintances. Yesterday I caught my friend leaving the STD clinic; he later sent me a text message that said "Don't worry, I'm negative!"

In the evenings we've been cooking: pad thai, pasta, stir-fry. I've practically memorized a recipe for strawberry pie, which is reason enough for loving summer. My other goal this summer is to understand wine, this has been a very slow and laborious process, although I have faith in my taste buds. We drank Port the other night out of a large, industrial-looking bottle made of black glass and it burned my throat.

My preoccupation with growing vegetables, building things, and general self-sufficiency has prompted my interest in WWOOF. My upstairs neighbor leaves this September to harvest grapes in Italy through WWOOF; naturally this isn't the most career-relevant option, but it's one I think of often.

carte @ 2008-07-04T03:57:00

2008-07-04T11:02:19Z

Hello Internet! I am here at nearly four in the morning to declare myself drunk. Yes! Drunk! Me! First time! Ever! Thank you, friends, for buying me drinks, and thank you sexy ladies and sexy men for dancing with me. I love the dancing.

carte @ 2008-07-03T15:09:00

2008-07-03T22:44:01Z

The principle problem with my search for a new apartment is: the more apartments I look at, the more I like my current apartment.

carte @ 2008-07-02T17:14:00

2008-07-03T00:45:06Z

My internship has no air conditioning in its administrative offices. They hang sheets over their windows, of which there are many, and so the inside is somewhat of a hot, humid jungle. They are having me re-organize (or really, create?) their database, among other things. Today I spent a few hours in storage, which is in an orange building across the street, and even hotter than admin. Much of the afternoon was spent alone on my hands and knees sweating in a wool pencil skirt, singing along very obnoxiously to Roy Orbison while trying to figure out what paintings are by what artists. Mind you, this is an impossible task. My internship is so disorganized. My real job is also disorganized, but with the veneer of a system. Things are labeled, things have numbers, things have entries in databases. But at my internship, no such thing. Art is propped up against other art and balanced on styrofoam and it's everywhere and there is no order. Coming from an archival system, and furthermore being OCD, this is so nerve-racking. I keep thinking, What about archival matting? Where is the temperature system? Where are the handling gloves? Where are the accession numbers? And then I practically have a heart attack when I see the art piled up in stacks. I feel like that little robot in WALL-E who gets upset at the streaks of dirt on the floor.

carte @ 2008-07-01T03:12:00

2008-07-01T10:13:37Z

Internet, I had plans for my post-undergraduate life. Big plans. Plans of becoming a carpenter in Cyprus or a guerilla-based performance artist. Plans to lead of a life of general rebellion and anarchy, to upset the social order at every twist and turn, to become everything Thirteen-Year-Old-Christine hoped upon reading Steal This Book in 1998. Sadly, these grandiose visions are coming to a pre-mature halt as phrases like "no more health insurance" loom ominously in the near future. In trying to quell the anxiety, I am awake at three in the morning researching part-time jobs that offer medical coverage. Unfortunately, solutions to said problem are sounding more like "Starbucks barista" than "starving artist." This isn't going very well.

Men

2008-06-29T06:21:53Z

So over the last four weeks I have wasted an extraordinary amount of energy figuring out exactly what my requirements are. I have compiled a brief quiz, mostly for my own amusement.

Can you make your own decisions: y/n
Are you aggressive: y/n
Are you passive: y/n
If you want something to get done, will you do it yourself: y/n
Do you enjoy hiking or bike-riding: y/n
Do you have anxiety: y/n
Are you neurotic: y/n
Do you enjoy the company of anxious and neurotic people: y/n
If I start talking about my fear of gravity stopping, will you get annoyed: y/n
Do you have an excellent working knowledge of film history: y/n
Do you like to cook: y/n
*If yes, do you actually cook: y/n
Are you a creep: y/n
Marinetti is amazing: y/n/who is Marinetti
Do you have ambitions for the future: y/n
*If yes, they are: _________________________
Do you like Motown: y/n
Do you like Tropicalismo: y/n/what is Tropicalismo
Can you make an excellent mix-tape: y/n
*If yes, please provide proof.
Can you speak a foreign language: y/n
Do you know a lot about physics: y/n
Do you party a lot: y/n
Are you a drug addict: y/n
Your favorite author is: _________________
Your favorite director is: ________________
Your biggest fear in life is: ___________________
Cargo shorts are a wardrobe staple: t/f

carte @ 2008-06-26T17:40:00

2008-06-27T00:49:09Z

I spent the entire day hiking up a mountain. The thunderstorm came while we were on the edge of a cliff. I faced my fear of death twice.

carte @ 2008-06-19T11:51:00

2008-06-19T18:55:02Z

I must confess: that song "Oxford Comma" sort of upsets me because -- I firmly believe in the oxford comma.

carte @ 2008-06-14T15:04:00

2008-06-14T22:20:51Z

I am keeping myself busy. No-one said it would be easy. Pet Sounds helps. But it's not easy. There was a time when I would have been writing a lot about this. But then I read Women and I realized I don't need to. The good parts of our relationship feel like a rat walking around and gnawing at the inside of my stomach. I don't even need to invent my own metaphors. That's nice.

carte @ 2008-06-13T17:17:00

2008-06-14T00:25:30Z

On the days I don't ride my bicycle to my internship, I walk. It is hot and I sweat. I have learned that to walk through downtown mid-day you must walk a certain way. You must keep looking straight ahead and you must have a blank expression on your face. If you look to the side or look down, you will get leered at. I walk with indifference and I listen to Different Class. I pass by a statue of the Immaculate Virgin on my way home. Mary holds her arms out and I stare at her. Jarvis Cocker sings a song in my ears that goes, this bed has seen it all from the first time to the last. This is true. I work with a boy named after Marcel Duchamp. Mary is golden in the sun. I can't read the plaque, it is in Spanish. In my neighborhood, people sleep in hammocks tied to trees. Their hats are pulled low over their faces. I stare at them too. Kids with sprinklers, businessmen in parking garages, prostitutes, homeless in the shade of buildings. I think of those photographs Weegee made in the 1940s: people sleeping and sweating on fire escapes during heat spells. The tenement housing was unbearable in the summer.

carte @ 2008-06-13T02:23:00

2008-06-13T09:24:46Z

This is the part where Maud leans into the unnamed protagonist and whispers Idiot.

carte @ 2008-06-04T00:22:00

2008-06-04T07:30:24Z

It has been my birthday for twenty-two minutes. At 11:30 pm, N came over and we went for coffee down the street. We talked a lot of crap about art criticism. He said he will buy me Women for my birthday. Then I showed him "Let's Paint, Exercise, & Blend Drinks TV", which is my favorite TV show. Now I am twenty-three years old and Facebook.com was the first to wish me a happy birthday. I am listening to "You Shouldn't Be Sad" by The Kinks and some Tropicalismo to combat my birthday angst. Angst essen seele auf!

I work and intern tomorrow which will keep me preoccupied for the most part, but after 5 o'clock I will probably be face down in my bed or taking a cold shower. I will spare you the list of anxieties I have about growing older or how unaccomplished I feel, I have already compiled the list in my sketchbook. It is next to the drawing I made about my fear of outer space.

Here is a photograph of me preparing for my birthday angst wearing a straw hat, drinking tangerine juice, and playing basket ball:

I'm sure most of you have seen this but my friend showed it to me a few weeks ago and I am obsessed:

Is it entirely dorky that I was able to recognize the song as "Gymnopedie No. 1" within three seconds?

carte @ 2008-06-01T14:32:00

2008-06-01T21:33:54Z

Embarrassing disaster at the art gallery yesterday involving me not having internet. I'll spare the details but will say that I wasn't supposed to start until next week and wound up in a controversial meeting with local curators and gallery owners, which I clearly was not supposed to be attending. After I checked my e-mail from their computer and realized my error I left in a hurry to return to the safety of my apartment and bury my head under a pillow. A boy at the corner of Congress and 5th Ave, sitting outside of Tooley's, complimented me on my bicycle during my getaway and in my momentary "I feel slightly better about today" attitude, my skirt got caught and I fell off my bike. It was all very bad.

carte @ 2008-06-01T13:39:00

2008-06-01T20:43:24Z

"Henry Van Cleve, do you think I'm the sort of girl who takes a boy's last beetle?"

carte @ 2008-05-21T12:38:00

2008-05-21T19:41:15Z

"I don't read novels. I prefer good literary criticism. That way you get both the novelists' ideas as well as the critics' thinking."

carte @ 2008-05-15T15:16:00

2008-05-15T22:16:59Z

Patched hole, kitchen ceiling

carte @ 2008-05-11T22:23:00

2008-05-12T05:24:01Z

Fortune Cookie, Friday

carte @ 2008-05-10T14:36:00

2008-05-10T21:39:08Z

There is something genuinely nice about being known as "that girl from film night" around campus. It happens often, and the conversation usually ends with movie recommendations.