Home again, home again. It's been a strange week, considering it started out here:
And ended up something like this:
That last shot was kind of a trippy mistake--I was riding my bike home from Brooklyn to Manhattan, and was smitten by the strangely orange moon. I thought perhaps I could capture it, sans tripod, by simply balancing the camera on one of the bridge's trusses (or whatever they are called--I'm no engineer, okay?). It didn't work--all the cars on the bridge made the camera jiggle, I got frustrated and tried to put the camera back in the bag before the exposure was even done. That'll learn me!
Anyway, I also had a crisis of blogging identity on Friday. It all started because a friend invited me to the Seaport to see the Hot Chip. (I have to admit that I'm not really feeling the Hot Chip. Has anyone else noticed their alarming similarity to '80s Australio-dorks, Crowded House? No? Maybe I'm just grouchy.) I agreed, as I had recently read about the promising-sounding Spiegeltent and its accompanying beer garden, housed nearby, and I figured its proximity would give me the chance to scout the location for future outings. (Diamanda Galas is playing there later in the month, hotdamn!)
Well, the Spiegeltent does look über-promising, and the beer garden was surprisingly untouristed...perhaps because it is hidden and relatively new, and the fanny pack crowd hasn't found it yet. Anyway, this imposing security guard barred our entrance to the tent itself:
...but we had a fine time lounging on the bright-blue loungers and drinking apricot beer. Upon arriving at Hot Chip central, however, I was quickly overcome by the crowd, the heat, and the fact that I didn't really like the band. I quickly (and rudely) abandoned my friend and dejectedly ran to sit in the old folks area in the back, where I came to the shocking realization that legions of er, Chipsters, were running around taking photos...probably for blogs. And they were really annoying! It reminded me of something a former boyfriend said to me regarding a mutually-disliked acquaintance: when people start behaving like their life is a movie, there is bound to be trouble. Blogging is kind of the same thing, I fear--eventually you stop experiencing things just in their pure state, but constantly evaluate them in terms of their bloggability...and that's weird.
Anyway, I haven't quite figured out yet if my blogging crisis is permanent. As always when I have some type of existential crisis, I was quickly distracted. This time it was by this hot dog cart:
I wish local hot dog carts sold veggie hot dogs like they do in Canada. Not coincidentally, I am going there on Tuesday where I plan to make a beeline for Frite Alors! to scarf down a veggie dog with sauerkraut and some poutine and a beer. Maybe I'll blog about it! And maybe I won't.