My Brain Melted Hours Ago

While I do think talking about (and whining about) the weather is always a conversational cop-out and is merely stating the obvious, its so fucking hot right now that my brain melted hours ago and this infernal (forgive the cheesy pun) heat is really all I am capable of focusing on. I'm usually pretty good about just sucking it up and accepting the fact that in late summer I will generally be a gross smelly squishy walking blob of sweat as I continue to melt away throughout the day and night...but when it gets to the point where you feel like you're suffocating under a one of those cheap mexican blankets they sell in border towns and gas stations that's been soaked in foul smelling wet garbage, it can become a tad bit difficult to remain positive. I am drowning in my own personal lake-o'-sweat in my air-conditionless 5th floor walk up and the heat has sapped too much of my energy to attempt to swim. I've even set up camp on my little half-futon (they call it a love seat that folds out into a twin size bed...I call it a glorified chair that folds out into a children's bed), as it just might be one degree cooler than up in the loft bed. I'll take whatever semblence of comfort I can find at this point.

Worse yet I was forced, by an oh-so-convenient cancellation of the 7 train service, to spend an inordiante amount of time in the molten subway in an attempt to get to PS1 in Long Island City; it was well worth the hellish journey, though by the time we arrived I wasn't quite certain if I was still a living being. I was tooling around town with My Little Vidipookikins' brother, The Wacky Pirate, and his girlfriend, Ms. Surprise Installation; I suppose it was actually less tooling, and more sludging like snails leaving a slimy trail of sweat in our exhausted wake. The museum was hosting a weekly music event in the courtyard, sponsored in part by Target, whose presence could be detected to the careful observer by weird circular seat cushions and tacky visors all sporting the Target logo which everyone seemed to be utilizing and which seemed to be shoved in your face every ten seconds by an overeager crowd canvasser distributing the free booty. It was actually rather surreal; uber corporate mass marketing meets contemporary art? While it worked for Worhol's stylized soup cans, it just seemed grossly out of place and horribly intrusive spread around the bodies in the courtyard of PS1. I'd even go as far as to say it was slightly nauseating; then again, maybe that was a by-product of the heat. Amazingly enough, there were people with enough energy (or coke...probably coke) to actually dance amidst the straight jacket of humidity enveloping us all. We, however, escaped the booming base and sweat and retreated into the museum.

I'd never been to PS1, and am not always the hugest fan of contemporary art; modern I adore, but contemporary often strays into pretentionin my humble opinion. While there were many pieces and installations of that ilk, I found the museum to be a refreshing surprise. The way the space is set up and utilized (there's art everywhere- in the stairwells and bathrooms and hidden little corners) was brilliant, and some of the work was really quite good; most of it was at least interesting, with the exception of a few pieces that you really had to wonder how the hell they got in there. By the time we hit the 3rd floor we were all in such sensory overload that we ended up doing a bit of a speed through (I tend to be that obnoxious lingerer) and I could no longer even focus what precious little there remained of my brain on what I was barely seeing. But I had such a great time. It was one of those days where it feels like you go on vacation in your own home; all the details and awareness of regular day to day life are momentarily suspended, and you kind of get to float in the moment. I often crave that feeling.

We ended the evening with a huge group dinner at Uncle Nick's, as stragglers made their way west and the odd menagerie of haphazardly thrown together personalities convened thankfully close to my apartment (which rarely happens). Good food, good company, and best of all...plenty of cool air.

Now I will hopefully not melt as I try to get a little sleep so that I am not a narcoleptic at tomorrow's callback. Being sweaty and stinky and gross is one thing, randomly falling asleep is a whole other ballgame here.