Post 4th: Me Barry, Neil.

I did not make it out to Artomatic this weekend. My afternoon plans wrinkled up (aka, a fire alarm cancelled the movie we had bought tickets to see on the Big Day Off), which consequently led to other lazy Fursday activities, which bumped Artomatic, which I dimly remembered on Sunday evening. Ah well. I'll pretend it was nine stories worth of Thomas Kincade / American-flag-wrapped-puppy art.

I did manage to have a great informational interview, on Fursday morning, with the Education director of a certain non-profit museum in town, whose collection is pretty great (aka, European). She has a degree in Arts Administration, too! We commiserated over art historians.

The 4th of July in Washington, Distrct of Columbia?!?!? Just how amazing is that, you ask? Well, I avoided most public festivities, so I really can't vouch for it. I did not join the typical "fustercluck of humanity on America's Mall;" instead it was a dinner party on Capitol Hill. The big concert was being broadcast in the background of this intimate, elite event; we leisurely strolled over to the Capitol once Barry Manilow appeared on the telly -- oh, how I was excited to hear the live sweet strains of Barry, drifting up the hill (like acidophilus)! -- but alas, the program's time delay was deceptively long. We showed up to hear no Barry, and see only half the fireworks (slightly obscured by the blinding lights of the concert directly below us). No Barry, I tell you! I watched one lonely drunk girl pump her fist to the silent show of sky-fire; then we headed back to the appartment for more tapenade and shrimp.

Where, amazingly, the fireworks were still on the television! And un-ironically accompanied by Neil Diamond's "Coming to America," which almost literally killed me.

Still, I am counting my blessings: no blood, shattered glass, firework mishaps or 911 calls this year! In my immediate vicinity, at least.

Also of general interest: MTV's "Real World: DC" is now filming in Adams Morgan, and on Sunday I witnessed filming. It was creeeeeeeepy. I and a mystery friend were simply walking through a quiet residential neighborhood on a mellow weekend evening, when we noticed three camera men running backwards before a group of overly angular and well-dressed tweens. I mean, young adults. We saw the whole cast; evidently an "action shot" of them walking together, in total silence, down a silent street. Being gawked at by people like me (less angular thanks to pasta). Based on this glimpse, I believe their names will prove to be Jack, Noho, Shannika, Skot, Allyson, Pug, and Blanket. Their house is very large, and conveniently located near a mini-Safeway.

That's not the "Real World: DC" at all, yo! Which reminds me, I need tomatoes.