Last night, I discovered Justin’s Organic Peanut Butter Cups. This is probably not a good thing going into spring/summer. I started with just one, but (isn’t there always a but?) I couldn’t resist the urge for more. I made the trip down those three flights of stairs to the kitchen for another one. Okay, it was really three more. But if no one is there to see you eat something, did you really eat it? It would probably be easier to just keep them near me at all times, say in a decorative Gucci bag marked “For Emergency Only,” but I have convinced myself that the trips up and down the stairs to retrieve the chocolate-and-peanut-butter goodness is helping to burn the calories I am consuming. Perhaps it works even better if I eat and climb the stairs at the same time? Alas, I probably need to do lots more flights of those dang stairs to equal things out in the caloric intake department.
In related news, I’ve been taking Oswald for long walks (with a little running thrown in for good measure) after work. I have discovered that once you give him any slack in the leash, it quickly goes from walking the dog to the nine steps of reeling in a large fish. I totally look like I am trying to reel in a marlin instead of walking a medium-sized dog. Here is a helpful hint that works for both dogs and large fish: Allow no slack in the line at any time.
There was no slacking at this week’s opening of Frederick Vaerslev’s new exhibit at the Power Station. It was a packed house. I also happened to run into one of my biggest fans who had a few words to say about last week’s blog post. She said that she hoped that I was over my “V-word phase” because it was spoiling her dinner. Of course, the first thing that came to my mind was, “Did she just say what I think she said?” That was followed by, “This is such a Lena Dunham moment. I may be forced to take my shirt off just because.” But then I remembered that men—be they gay, straight, or otherwise preoccupied—really don’t go around using that word, and I certainly have never written it in a blog post. It just doesn’t come up in the course of daily conversation or like ever.
Then it hit me. She wasn’t talking about THAT “V” word. She was talking about my story about my cat, Big Ray, and his vomit. We both laughed hard when I told her what I thought she meant. Now, finally, my dear readers, I think I may have reached the end of my poop and “V” words (both versions) phase. (I doubt that. —Ed) Thank goodness for small miracles, right? But notice I typed, “may have reached the end.” I want to leave it open ended—much like Cher and her final farewell tours.
But people, I really want you to think of the fern as an object of beauty whether in plant form, printed on a beautiful fabric you can hang in your windows, or embroidered on the shoulder of a Jenny Packham gown worn by a princess, and not so much something associated with Big Ray and his digestive system. Please enjoy this image of Jindal in indigo by Designers Guild. It really showcases just how lovely ferns can be in any form.
Now that we have gotten all that cleared up, here is what you should do this weekend. Get out there and see some art. It is Art Fair week, after all. It’s a great time to espy that piece you’ve been looking for but never knew you needed. Plus you just might learn something new by exploring all the galleries and world-class art the city has to offer. Then you can tell your friends that you learned not one or two but three new things this week—and all from a blog. Ferns are lovely to look at in every form; art is a good thing because it opens our minds and makes us think; and most importantly, allow no slack in that line. You can thank me later. Happy Friday!