Cupcakes and Art

Although I am somewhat ashamed to admit it, I am becoming a bit of a regular at Baked and Wired, a bakery and coffee shop in Georgetown.

I am firmly convinced that they have the best cupcakes in DC (sorry, Georgetown Cupcakes), along with delicious zucchini bread and delightfully refreshing iced herbal teas.

The shop is also located conveniently along my route into work, and always has parking outside, so when I am not metro-bus-ing, I often stop there for an iced coffee to get myself through the tribulations of Route 66.

My favorite thing about Baked and Wired, besides the barista who wears a tutu, the pink bike outside the door, the cute little matchboxes and stickers, the community blackboard, and the delightful cupcake display, is that they often display local artists on their walls.

The current exhibition features the work of Maggie Mae Musgrave, who does fun, graffiti-esque, poppy paintings of eclectic subjects such as crawdads and kittens.

My favorite piece, that I'm seriously considering purchasing, is this great cityscape of DC:

D'ya C me, by Maggie Mae Musgrave

I know it's kind of crazy and overwhelming, but it's bright, and fun, and could look kinda chic in the right spot, dontcha think?

The Letting Go

Girlfriends

the women of the past keep
phoning.
there was another yesterday
arrived from out of
state.
she wanted to see
me.
I told her
"no."

I don't want to see
them,
I won't see them.
it would be
awkward
gruesome and
useless.

I know some people who can
watch the same movie
more than
once.

not me.
once I know the
plot
once I know the
ending
whether it's happy or
unhappy or
just plain
dumb,
then

for me
that movie is
finished
forever
and that's why
I refuse
to let
any of my
old movies play
over and over again
for
years.


by Charles Bukowski

Annie's Important Research

A: i just found a great article about sex

Moi: where?

A: psych info

A: called “no baby, i have a migraine”

Things I Liked in the Fall 2010 Couture Shows

Dior's collection was absolutely gorgeous and really captured my imagination -- I do have a thing for les fleurs, after all. (Click on images to see on style.com slideshow)

ab





And in contrast to Dior's joie de vivre and whimsy, we have what is really just an exquisite collection from Givenchy. I would love to see these gowns in person -- they are so detailed, and are at once utterly feminine and edgy. They have an ethereal, other-worldly feel to them, don't you think? Really, the entire ouevre begs a look.



And some critiqued Valentino's show, but there's a lot here that appeals to me. Sure, it's a bit simple, safe, and girly . . . but it's wearable. And feminine. And, well, pretty.

In short, I would happily accept any of these frocks should you wish to purchase one for me.

A Poem about Poems (So Meta)

Why Some People Do Not Read Poetry

by W.S. Merwin

Because they already know that it means
stopping and without stopping they know that
beyond stopping it will mean listening
listening without hearing and maybe
then hearing without hearing and what would
they hear then what good would it be to them
like some small animal crossing the road
suddenly there but not seeming to move
at night and they are late and may be on
the wrong road over the mountain with all
the others asleep and not hitting it
that time as though forgetting it again

Thanks to The New York Review of Books

A Visitor from Down Under

There is something about summer in the city.

The heat is on here in DC, and all I seem to want to do is laze about all day and dance all night. All winter it seemed that we were hermits -- we didn't go out but to sit around in each others' apartments and drink copious bottles of vin rouge.

And now, I've morphed into Mimi from Rent; I just "wanna go ou-ut tonight!"

So Saturday night, we piled into a taxi, drove down U Street, which was swarmed with people, passing several stoop gatherings along the way, and into Adams Morgan, which was even more swarmed.

And upon walking into Tom Tom's, a bit of a dive, really, I was approached by a tall, tanned man who said, "Let's 'ave a spin."

I obliged and took his hand, and he twirled me around.

Which was all rather charming.

"I'm Australian," he announced.

"No you're not," I countered, positive he was a goofy DC guy trying out a line.

"Wot, you want to see my passport?"

"Yes."

He pulled it out, and sure enough, "Australia" was embossed on the cover.

So I decided to dance with him. I have a thing for Aussies.

At one point, he stopped dancing, looked a bit startled, and said "Wait. Wait! Where am I?"

"I don't know!" I gasped.

He looked around and nodded.

"'Eaven. I'm in 'eaven."

Normally such a line would irritate me, but something about his delivery just made me laugh.

He and his "best mate" followed us to a hookah bar, but then we lost them in the crowd on our way to get falafel.

Just as well I suppose. Sometimes a random encounter is better left a random encounter.

Particularly when said encounter is an Australian carpenter Greyhound-ing his way across the States and only in town for 2 nights.

G'day.

More Pretty Words from 'The Writer's Almanac'

Sorry. I know I need to diversify my sources. But it's just so good! And so fitting to this lovely summer morning.

On this day in 1908, D.H. Lawrence (books by this author) wrote in a letter to his friend Blanche Jennings from his house in Derbyshire in England where he was living:

"I am unwilling to leave this deck-chair; I refuse to swot; let me write to you then, me lounging here on the grass, where the still warm air is full of the scent of pinks, spicy and sweet, and a stack of big red lilies a few yards away impresses me with a sense of hot, bright sunshine. ... It is a true midsummer day. There is a languorous grey mist over the distance; Shipley woods, and Heanor with its solid church are hidden today; no, I can just see a dense mark in the mist, which is Heanor; but Crich is gone entirely. The haze just falls on Eastwood; the church is blue, and seems fast asleep, the very chimes are languid. Only the bees are busy, nuzzling into some wide white flowers; — and I am busy too, of course."

The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor, June 25, 2010