Mattress Factory Garden Party 2011
Lucian Wintrich, Lindsay Mullen
This weekend I had the incredible pleasure of attending the Mattress Factory Garden Party. First, let me say that I have yet to attend a similar event with such an incredible turnout of creative, motivated, and unique people. I ran into some who I havent seen in what feels like a quarter decade, it was staggering. Second, let me say that the closing act, "Andrew and Andrew," were definitely the low point of the night. Highs and lows considered, it was a great event for Pittsburgh and one that I feel many will fondly remember.
Irish Terriers: Best Dogs Ever
Hands down one of the sickest dogs ever. Hopefully my old man will end up finding one for our new house; he'll certainly add cheer to the sullen portraits of the German family who previously adorns the walls a house unchanged since the 1830s.
Newport Bermuda Race
Just found these gems from the '86 Newport Bermuda Race on The Trad. Be sure to check out the whole series.
Staley Wise Gallery
Check out the new stuff Staley Wise Gallery has in from David LaChapelle; defiantly have to save up and buy a print of his.
Pierre Deux Wallpaper
With my fathers recent acquisition of a early 1800s victorian home (I'll post some images in the near future), you can bet I'm gonna deck my room there out in Pierre Deux Wallpaper.
An Acquired Taste
I had never fully realized this before, but I have an odd variety of tastes in wide variety of categories. I could never quite explain it; whenever I was offered Pepsi, I would opt for tonic water; whenever I was offered a hot dog, I opt for Gouda and few olives. I got punched in the face a few times. I use to blame it on my pretentious high school, where everyday I would get beat up for my brunch money.
It has not been until today that I realized fully where my tastes originated. The only soda my parents would ever buy while I was growing up was tonic water; the only snack foods we would have lying around the house was Gouda and olives (most likely purchased for martinis).
Tonight, I recover from a week of frantically running around Manhattan attempting errands and internships to find myself in a house in some sort of Garden State suburb, with the same stock of food and decor as my own, just without parents supervising what time I have to wake up and what the conversations should be about. I love it.
My kids are going to grow up watching nothing but 'leave it to beaver,' drinking tonic water, and eating Gouda and olives (most likely purchased for my martini after I get home from work).
Cocktail Time – P.G. Wodehouse
Cocktail Time by P.G. Wodehouse, a perfect read on an overcast day.
Fights & Funerals
Woke up at 2pm. Heard that one of my close friends had died; drank a bloody mary and headed to the funeral. Got lost. Found a cheep sushi place (gotta remember the name of it), kept walking. The father of the recently deceased blamed it on my other friend, her boyfriend... in the middle of the service... he said he had "email transcripts," whatever that means. I threw up a little in my mouth; got over it. After the recently blamed left, I followed. Five minutes later 3/4ths of the attendance had gone out to console the boyfriend of the girl who died in a 'Shakespearian' fashion.
Soon after, I found I wasn't able to write any more funeral jokes, funerals are too serious, unfortunatly; I headed to a friends house three blocks away - funeral after party!
Couldn't stop thinking about an idiot administration member of the college we all attend paying her trite and artificial condolences to a girl she never knew.
Got back home. Drank. Slept. Tired and wrung out. Woken up by my roommate and our close friend Sarah; she informed us that that a party was on the horizon; some sort of Secret Bingo Party. It wasn't that much of a secret, apparently.
Four hours later, after a failed cocktail party, the discussion shifted from the mundane to an argument about NYC and finding unique things to do. My friend cried over it for a minute, my other friend yelled about it for a minute; I opened up chatroulette, focused the computer's camera on the situation, and everyones head's turn to see a mixture of penises and 14-year-old girls staring in confusion at a defunct NYC cocktail party at 2:30 AM.
Grumble. I think I'm going to New Jerzy tomorrow; I need a change of scenery.
Family Portrait
Luis Burgos, Rebecca Hunt, Lucian Wintrich
Just took a family portrait with my roommate Lewis and our good friend Rebecca. Looking for a place to hang it in the apartment.