holy cow.

Today I was walking around Southampton. I didn't have to babysit until 3:15 and felt like making the most of my day by doing something different and obscene. Maybe more different than obscene. Okay. Maybe not obscene at all. I had big plans of checking out the Parrish Art Museum. I googled and mapquested. I GPSed. I got all excited at the prospect of having something fun to do, and then I got there and  they were closed for some renovation junk. 

Drats. 

So I walked around Jobs Lane and did a few things which includes meeting a famous artist. His name is Michael Perez. He's painted some of those big cows that you've probably seen around. Check him. Actually, legitimately famous. He does a lot of pop art and has celebrity clients like Nikki Hilton and Billy Joel. But I didn't know this when I met him. I asked him if they were his paintings, and he said yes and got all excited, perhaps thinking me rich and able to afford some fancy expensive bright thing to hang on my wall. No no no. I don't even have my own wall. But anyway. The exact dialogue of the conversation escapes me now but we talked in general about my nannyhood, my disappointment about the closed museum, my useless B.A. in English, his friend the editor who drives a fancy car, and my eyes, which he said were beautiful. He said he wanted me to come back later so he could paint me. Imagine my face, pop-artified, hanging on the wall of a rich person's home.

Ha.

Haha.

(And, for good measure,) Hahaha.