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Love Letter to Houston (Double-sized!): Titian the cock-tease and Cheap Books

Titian, you son of a bitch. I get to Houston, and Geoff tells me we’re going to the Titian exhibit at the Houston Museum of Fine Arts on Sunday. I’m stoked. He’s such a great paint, and I can’t wait to see a full-on exhibition of his work.

Well, let me tell you how disappointed I was when there were only two fucking rooms of his artwork. Two. Rooms. And most of the work was from his “school” of other artists. Don’t get me wrong, there were some great pieces (Titian’s “Diana” series comes to mind) but it was a bit of a letdown since they charged extra for two measly rooms.

Oh, and what is it with you Houston museums and no photography? If I can take pictures at the Met in NYC, I should be able to take pictures of your underwhelming museums.

After the museum, we have lunch at this tavern whose name I have completely forgotten. For those of you who have had the experience of visiting the Empty Keg in Edinboro, PA, I’d liken this bar to it. Only, this place was three times as big, but the relaxed and eclectic environment was similar.

That evening, Geoff and I went to a juice party hosted by his friend Emily. Well, I say juice party, but we broke the juicer before we got any juice. So, we had a fruit party instead. After a rousing match of Apples to Apples (aka the best game in the entire world), we went to another person’s house (Linsey? Or something like that?) and watched the season premiere of True Blood. I’ve an unhealthy obsession with Sam Merlotte, and his brother, Tommy Mickens (I feel odd lusting after him because he was just a kid on Prison Break, but god damn, that ass.)

Discussion Topic: How are you liking this season of True Blood? I think it’s off to a pretty good start, especially now that SPOILER ALERT Tara is a lesbian. Plus, two episodes in and my favorite character made an appearance: Tommy Mickens’ sweet ass. I really must stop obsessing, but, but—GOD DAMN. Look it up and tell me I’m wrong. I’m not.
I worked on some writing in the morning (how meta, writing about writing this). For lunch we went to Tacos a-go-go, a greasy Mexican eatery. I had a mushroom and spinach quesadilla and a Mexican Coke. Mexican Coke is better than American Coke, I’m not sure why, but it just is. Tacos a-go-go had a cool décor, lots of vintage posters and paintings on the walls.

Later in the day, we went to Half Price Books. Holy shit, I cannot express my love for HPB enough. It’s like a giant bargain book store, but with books you’d actually like to buy. I spent a good hour or two just going through their fiction section. I wish there was one closer to me, but I think Cleveland is the nearest. Fuck.

After my bookgasm, we spent a good amount of time trying to find a decent restaurant that was open. What the hell, Houston? Why did everything close so early that night? In any case, we ate at this place called Barnaby’s. Seriously, look at that website. It had an interesting décor, lots of cartoon dogs and high heeled boots. Had a delicious falafel burger with sweet potato fries, two of my favorite foods.

Geoff and I hung out on the roof of Caroline, drinking beer and reveling in the beautiful evening sky before visiting his former roommate, Giesla (apologies in advance for probably massacring her name) at his old apartment. Some of Giesla’s friends came over (one that reminded me of a blond Kristen Schaal) and we went swimming in the apartment’s communal pool.

It was there I experienced Texas cockroaches: shiny, red, fast fuckers. I’m not squeamish around bugs all that often, but these bastards made me want to throw up. One tried to climb in my jeans.

After our dip in the glorious, warm pool, we headed back to Caroline, and I started packing for my (sob) last day in Houston.

Discussion topic: Do you live near a Half Price Books? Can I come visit you?



    lol the Empty Keg

    the memories

    or lack thereof


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