who knew i could read to a child

  

apparently jean charles suffers from the bad picture disease

  

look! over there! it's the other side of the street!

  

steph's new clean teeth

  

steph and jean-charles talking about steph's camera

  

i can't help it if i snarl when the people take the pictures

  

walton ford at the brooklyn museum

so, last wednesday, before i left for paris, i went to the walton ford show at the brooklyn museum. he is my favorite artist, probably because not only does he paint these amazingly detailed and kind of sinister paintings, but they encorporate audoban and storytelling. each one has a background.


i'd seen some of his stuff at the whitney about 2 years ago. but it turns out this is his first museum show.

while i was there, he was giving a talk to the museum doners so i got to hear him personally talk about what had inspired him to paint each thing.



this here crazy animal is taken from hemmingway's stories about hunting in africa.

Rio did not like the Musee Picaso

but he does like the space invaders.

oh well.

oh. and the space invaders

we were talking about them, and jean-charles didn't know where any were. but then, i saw three of them. ha ha! he was laughing at how easily i'm entertained.


we were talking about them, and jean-charles didn't know where any were. but then, i saw three of them. ha ha! he was laughing at how easily i'm entertained.

again. not my photos. i think i need to buy a camera, eh?

The Cat in Monmartre

my friend took me today to see the cat. he kept talking about it and i had no idea what he was talking about, he just was trying to show off street art to me, so we paid for the "galaxy," the telescope.

a lot of people offered to make caricatures of us, too, and insulted him by speaking to him in English.

these are not my pictures. all my pictures are on my phone and it is not turned on, so i will put them up later.

Backpack?

  

Rio! Look! Over there! A Bog Person!

  

looking for Jim in all the wrong places....

  

is that a bog person?

  

Sick are you, Rio?

  

this is a VERY GOOD GUY.

  

Clean those teeth, Anne. Golly.

  

Steph LOVES his camera!

  

Nico and Delphine have come over to play!

  

Ayla knows who is the cutest!

  

rio in the rain

  

en francais

ande has just taken the babies to the doctor, so i'm here at their apartment in the Oberkampft (sp?) listening to 90210 en francaism it is almost better, and updating my blog. ande was mad that she didn't know it or update it, so now i will.



on saturday we took Rio to the Pere Lachaise cemetary, that's the one that the american's go to to see the grave of Jim Morrison (apparently he is not
still there.), because Rio is obsessed with Bog people. Ande told him all the cracked gravestones were where the Bog People had escaped. I told him where ever there were swords or flowers there were good bog people and that the good bog people would protect him from the bad.


since then he and i have been playing a game that involves a giant toy Hummer that turns into a race car town, two trains, a stuffed wolf named dog and a stuffed leopard named ? and a lion named simba. then the VERY BAD GUY who is a bear with pleather motercycle pants and tatoos shows up and attacks the town. The VERY GOOD GUYS protect the town and put the VERY BAD GUYS in jail (Ayla's crib).

*U*C*L*A*fight*fight*fight* (where each star represents a clap)

12/2/2006 ~ Football
UCLA knocked No. 2 USC out of the Bowl Championship Series title game with a stunning 13-9 victory over its crosstown rival Saturday. The loss was USC's fourth in the last 59 games. (More) (from usc's website)


well, we won a football game.
we, as if i am somehow in anyway to do with it, or even really care.
it is neat to see, that on saturday evening,after the ucla usc game, the daily bruin has not updated with the good news but usc is updated with the bad. will the tyranny of money never end? is it that all the bruin reporters are getting drunk? and the usc posting because they are sad...

sad bikes

i left my rock hopper locked to the for sale house next door. locked up with my gym lock. it is so no there. i bet it will be fixed up and for sale at the bike store next door.

all right then

i was trying to capture how damn happy i was to be in san francisco yesterday. and i didn't even eat a burrito.


now that i'm having the slightly disturbing feeling that someone other than me (and occasionally the two people who know i write it as a writing exercise) might be able to find this, somewhere underneath the twenty pages of Anne O'Neil the basketball player on Google, perhaps I should write about something other than YA Lit.

but really, what else do i have to talk about? the spookyness of interior decoration? the absurdity of san jose drivers? my obsession with veronica mars? why i love gmail talk? these are banal normal things, not nearly meriting a blog of the genius nature of my critical essays on the princess diaries.

oh wow. my airport book last week? that i picked up because i, of course, after making it to both jeff and scott's birthday parties, missed my 6 am flight and was stuck at GH expensive bookstore or whatever that place in the airport is for four hours, and bought a meg cabot book. didn't keep me awake on the plane or anything, but apparently i am not the only one inspired by the britney (innocent virgin) + justin timberlake = breakup followed by justin timberlake touring with white trash christina aguilera. though my story was about a pop star meeting a new york comic on jay leno, and the tabloids and the jay leno breaking them up, it was the same bit, also peppered with bad song lyrics. do you think someone (scott, fess up. you've been selling my genius stories to the mass market) gave meg cabot Night Time with Bob?

teenagers

so i've been reading endless teenager live journal entries. what the hell does "woot"? mean? is it just a long drawn out "what?" no idea.

teenagers really do think about tests a lot more than they think about boys. i guess if i think about it, that's true. i can't even remember what boys i thought about when i was a teenager. i remember i had a crush on a swimmer named brad, whose last name i can't remember, only that tracy (shit, i forgot her last name, too. and we were buddies, on academic decathalon together. she was going to market my clothing. she was a mimi type.) had a crush on him, too. and i thought about james all the time, but in weird fantasy mode.

i do remember having totally lame note passing conversations about deciding who i liked. but crushes were much easier then, and i was much more impressed by cute than i am now. but maybe i was just as unimpressed. i was in san jose, for god's sake. anyway, i can't remember what i thought about all the time.

anyway, listeing to wowie zowie the rerelease. it's calming, but i still haven't rewritten all i lost last night, not to mention, conquering finishing the book.