Weekend post-12.
Jun. 5th, 2004 11:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serindeBusy weekend, not over yet.
Last night: lots of enjoyable tormenting of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sweh, which I shan't go into, therefore not much to say.
Today was busier.
Started with a quick tour of the rose garden at the Botanic Garden, as I've missed seeing it in any state of bloom for the last couple yearssweh has been living there. My timing was still somewhat off, as many of the bushes had just finished their first bloom, and many others hadn't even begun yet, but there was still enough florage that the limited time we had didn't get it all. But, as he pointed out, when you're getting in for free this is not a big deal.
I met Kathryn, Beth, and Nancy at noon at Le Singe Vert, which turned out to be a delightful little French place real damn close to the office. The food is excellent, as are the drinks, and the price is commensurate with the area. We kicked around there til Megan joined us at about quarter past one. The original plan was then to proceed to the Museum of Sex, followed by Toys in Babeland, but the Bat Signal had gone up...
The other Beth wasn't along for the day's adventures because she was assisting with a tea at the Fraunces Tavern Museum (note to furriners: this is one of the "George Washington Slept Here" places), and she desperately needed more bodies to prove to the Powers that Be that people were actually interested in such. So we presented our fabulous selves at the door promptly at 2...only to find they weren't ready to start. We kicked around the gift shop and the nearby museum rooms (saw a shoe of Martha Washington's) for a bit until the Go signal. Followed then a lovely tea on the top floor (formerly the innkeep's private apartment), consisting of little sandwiches, delightful little shortbread jam cookies, tea of course (duh), and lemon shrub, supposedly Martha's own recipe. We finally rolled out about twenty to four, and since we were already downtown, decided to reverse the order of the other stops.
On to Toys in Babeland, which for some reason I'd never been to. It's a useful little place, very like Good Vibrations in SF. I was not in the market for anything in particular, so mostly just browsed the selection and answered technical questions from the others. Did end up getting a few of a type of condom that came recommended as better for him and her, and we'll see how those go.
By the time we left the store, we were all pretty tired, dehydrated, and a bit cranky, especially after having to wait way too fuckin' long for the F. Also there was an expressed desire on some parts to go watch the Belmont. In the event, Beth and Kathryn split off to meet Matthew and the other Beth at the Triple Crown (an appropriate bar for the undertaking, I should think) and Nancy, Megan, and I proceeded to the museum.
Finally, finally made it here. Had been wanting to for ages. It's actually quite small. There are three galleries; the first one currently has a show called "Get Off", which is contemporary stuff about, well, they phrase it: "features the work of established and emerging artists who investigate sexual titillation as a means to examine their relationship to pleasure in society." It was kind of eh, whatever. The other two galleries were both taken up by the other show, which is "Sex Among the Lotus: 2500 Years of Chinese Erotic Obsession". That one was really interesting. As Nancy put it, we're all used to seeing various Indic pr0n, but one doesn't see too much of the Chinese offerings. They did have a whole section on the footbinding thing (because it really went above and beyond fetish--for instance, a man going to a brothel in that period wouldn't look at the prostitutes' faces, but at their feet), which I just had to skim over. Yeargh. However, one of the museum curators had put up a few paragraphs' thoughts pointing out that this was not real different from the wasp-waisted fainting femmes of the Belle Epoque, or for that matter from the Botoxed, tummy-tucked, stiletto-heeled over-made-up "beauty" of Manhattan. This bears pondering.
I then had to dash out to make sure I caught my train, which was the suck because the gift shop looks very cool. Like most museum gift shops, you don't have to pay to go in, though, so I'll likely pay another visit sometime after work or during lunch or whatever.
Returned home to find thatgaleogirl &c. had made it, and there being no restaurants on a Saturday evening that could feed six plus toddler without disgusting waits, Steve was starting loads of pasta. Ate, then hauled ass to the store before it closed, because we were out of damn near everything. And now, bed.
Last night: lots of enjoyable tormenting of
sweh, which I shan't go into, therefore not much to say. Today was busier.
Started with a quick tour of the rose garden at the Botanic Garden, as I've missed seeing it in any state of bloom for the last couple years
sweh has been living there. My timing was still somewhat off, as many of the bushes had just finished their first bloom, and many others hadn't even begun yet, but there was still enough florage that the limited time we had didn't get it all. But, as he pointed out, when you're getting in for free this is not a big deal.I met Kathryn, Beth, and Nancy at noon at Le Singe Vert, which turned out to be a delightful little French place real damn close to the office. The food is excellent, as are the drinks, and the price is commensurate with the area. We kicked around there til Megan joined us at about quarter past one. The original plan was then to proceed to the Museum of Sex, followed by Toys in Babeland, but the Bat Signal had gone up...
The other Beth wasn't along for the day's adventures because she was assisting with a tea at the Fraunces Tavern Museum (note to furriners: this is one of the "George Washington Slept Here" places), and she desperately needed more bodies to prove to the Powers that Be that people were actually interested in such. So we presented our fabulous selves at the door promptly at 2...only to find they weren't ready to start. We kicked around the gift shop and the nearby museum rooms (saw a shoe of Martha Washington's) for a bit until the Go signal. Followed then a lovely tea on the top floor (formerly the innkeep's private apartment), consisting of little sandwiches, delightful little shortbread jam cookies, tea of course (duh), and lemon shrub, supposedly Martha's own recipe. We finally rolled out about twenty to four, and since we were already downtown, decided to reverse the order of the other stops.
On to Toys in Babeland, which for some reason I'd never been to. It's a useful little place, very like Good Vibrations in SF. I was not in the market for anything in particular, so mostly just browsed the selection and answered technical questions from the others. Did end up getting a few of a type of condom that came recommended as better for him and her, and we'll see how those go.
By the time we left the store, we were all pretty tired, dehydrated, and a bit cranky, especially after having to wait way too fuckin' long for the F. Also there was an expressed desire on some parts to go watch the Belmont. In the event, Beth and Kathryn split off to meet Matthew and the other Beth at the Triple Crown (an appropriate bar for the undertaking, I should think) and Nancy, Megan, and I proceeded to the museum.
Finally, finally made it here. Had been wanting to for ages. It's actually quite small. There are three galleries; the first one currently has a show called "Get Off", which is contemporary stuff about, well, they phrase it: "features the work of established and emerging artists who investigate sexual titillation as a means to examine their relationship to pleasure in society." It was kind of eh, whatever. The other two galleries were both taken up by the other show, which is "Sex Among the Lotus: 2500 Years of Chinese Erotic Obsession". That one was really interesting. As Nancy put it, we're all used to seeing various Indic pr0n, but one doesn't see too much of the Chinese offerings. They did have a whole section on the footbinding thing (because it really went above and beyond fetish--for instance, a man going to a brothel in that period wouldn't look at the prostitutes' faces, but at their feet), which I just had to skim over. Yeargh. However, one of the museum curators had put up a few paragraphs' thoughts pointing out that this was not real different from the wasp-waisted fainting femmes of the Belle Epoque, or for that matter from the Botoxed, tummy-tucked, stiletto-heeled over-made-up "beauty" of Manhattan. This bears pondering.
I then had to dash out to make sure I caught my train, which was the suck because the gift shop looks very cool. Like most museum gift shops, you don't have to pay to go in, though, so I'll likely pay another visit sometime after work or during lunch or whatever.
Returned home to find that
galeogirl &c. had made it, and there being no restaurants on a Saturday evening that could feed six plus toddler without disgusting waits, Steve was starting loads of pasta. Ate, then hauled ass to the store before it closed, because we were out of damn near everything. And now, bed.
