Mmmm... food...

No one is allowed to make fun of me ever again for eating as much as I do in a day. Read what I just read and you will understand:

"Here’s Phelps’s typical menu. (No, he doesn’t choose among these options. He eats them all, according to the Post.)

Breakfast: Three fried-egg sandwiches loaded with cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, fried onions and mayonnaise. Two cups of coffee. One five-egg omelet. One bowl of grits. Three slices of French toast topped with powdered sugar. Three chocolate-chip pancakes.

Lunch: One pound of enriched pasta. Two large ham and cheese sandwiches with mayo on white bread. Energy drinks packing 1,000 calories.

Dinner: One pound of pasta. An entire pizza. More energy drinks."

(http://blogs.wsj.com/health/2008/08/13/the-michael-phelps-diet-dont-try-it-at-home/)

The ideal diet, if I do say so myself.

Culture. Art. Sculpture. Hilarity ensues.

Just had a culture-packed couple of days. Friday, after work, I went down to the Grounds for Sculpture (yeah, that one is just packed with meaning, isn't it? I kept passing signs for it on the way to and from work, and figured it was some type of sculpture garden--but then again, it could have been simply a reason or reasons to create a sculpture... or even just a bunch of coffee grounds to sculpt with.)

Anyway, here are some of the pictures:







Of course, it wasn't all just re-creations of impressionist paintings (and Matisse). I mean, how kitchy would that be? There were some other things there as well:

(Stoopid willow tree...)

(This one is for all my fantasy-reading friends out there...)

It was on the Grounds for Sculpture, so it must be art, right? Right. Except for when it is not art. I found this out after having to duck quickly for cover in a building when a thunderstorm blew up. It was over in a few minutes, so I left the building and continued on my way. I started down a new path, towards the back of the garden, snapping pictures of sculptures that caught my eye. Across one lawn, slightly behind another, larger metal sculpture, I saw a circle of flat rectangles in bright colors. I thought, "Wow. That's really bright. Look at those cool colors. I have to go check it out." So, I started walking towards it. When I got there, I stood in the middle of the circle and started looking at the ground for a plaque. It took me a couple of second of looking before I looked at the circle again and realized it was really just a bunch of yoga mats that had been abandoned when it started storming.

(Don't you just love how I put my more humiliating moments on this 'blog for people to laugh at?)

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Saturday I went to New York City to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Cloisters (going to the Cloisters is almost like going on a pilgrimage, in that it is a painful process to actually get there).

Obligatory New York City skyline as seen from Central Park picture.

Hmm... this looks vaguely familiar...


I've decided that when I finally get a home, I gonna need me some cloisters.

Jesus, S&M style...

Since I'm already going to hell, can I just say that I can never again look at a Madonna and Child without thinking "Baby Jesus with rickets." Thanks a bunch, Hil.

New Musical Obsession:

Tim Fite.