The roads were like rivulets as I hoped I wouldn't get stuck or flood my engine with rainwater on the way to Lakewood, wondering where the omnipresent Linndale police are when someone broke down on 117th and could actually use some assistance. My landlord called to tell me I have a new neighbor, that she's very nice and has two and a half dogs, since a chihuahua doesn't count as a real canine in his book.
We drank coffee and went to the art museum, where people kept worrying about her walking up stairs and congratulating her and her husband. We checked out the really nice Asian art exhibit but spent most of the time in with the Byzantines, medieval relics, and Renaissance paintings, concluding that cherubs and satyrs are equally creepy.
I actually linger in front of my favorite works and analyze the color choices, pigments, brushstrokes, get inspired by the intricacies of cloisonne and champlevee enamel work, but the snark also comes out in full force too. "It's because of all those times we went to the art museum with Dad." My dad's not really artsy so nothing's terribly sacred as far as culture goes and we find everything funny.
But in all seriouness, these two muses by Meynier out of series of five are my favorites because of the drama, the epic size, and they just look so badass with all the falling comets and everything. If I had a palatial estate, I'd want these in my dining room.
Spicy Indian food makes me sleepy and because we're so cool we went to the Lakewood Library where I loaded up on history books about Somaliland, Vikings, old Paris, the Black Sea, and Eritrea and a huge stack of CDs. Lots of other people spend Saturday night at the library even if it's just for the fantastic movie selection. Tea and reading and cats who love doomy power chords seems like way more fun right now. And sleep. Sleep is good.