Week Two at MASS MoCA

I am sleeping a lot, hopefully I will get over it soon. I remember this same thing happening when I moved to Chicago. Regardless it is ridiculous.

The big event last week was this bratwurst cookout one of the supervisors here threw. I guess New England types don’t eat a lot of bratwurst so this was a novelty to most people. The whole thing was done very proper–marinating the meat for 5 hrs in beer and onions… drinking a lot of beer, etc. I had a pleasant time, a couple of my roommates thought it was lame. There was a little campfire, so I just sat and stared at it, drank my beer, thought about how full of brat I was, while everyone else jabber jawed on about art or something. Now I want to eat bratwurst everyday.

Saturday night was this girl Jessica (one of my roommates) 19th birthday, so we got some booze and people together at our house. It was nice to have people over. I skipped out around 10:30 with a couple kids to go to this “dance party” in Williamstown. I guess I had my hopes set high, but it wasn’t the dance party I had hoped for. The bar was real nice, except you can’t smoke in bars in this town. It is kind of snotty b/c they have some snotty private school, some people refer to them as “rich pricks” but they seem ok to me. At the dance party this local 4 man hip hop group performed. They had a Jurassic 4 thing going on, I couldn’t understand the words, but they had the crowd of about a dozen going strong. “What’s up Williamstown.” They had good energy, I will give them that.

It rains a lot here. My only quasi-revelation came about this weekend while at “The Laundry Club” doing my laundry. I am reading this book, Blue Highway, which is about a dude travelling the back roads of America. He goes to all these small towns and finds all of these interesting people to talk to and focuses on the quaint aspects of the life there. It occurred to me that I am in that small town, but I only focus on the negative/cynical things about it. For instance, scratch-off lottery tickets. I am always thinking about the obsession so many seem to have with them. I thought about writing my own version of Blue Highway that was cynical and bitched about stupid people. There would be this big metaphor explaining how all the losing tickets are a symbol of all the losers that live here. I am sure it has been done before though. The only writing I do is this journal and lists. I write a lot of lists, then I don’t refer to them. Then I write more lists. Then I throw some other ones away that are like 4 lists back. I suppose I should get to work now.

Go to gripdesign.com and click “shop grip” I made the 2 black shirts on there!