buying culture by the yard

The week so far:
A friend of the brother-in-law of a friend of mine had an interior decorator decorate his second house [I mean home] in Vail. In the study were rows of Thackeray, Dickens, Cowper - leatherbound and neatly arranged. And without pages.

And, a pretty young thing, immaculately dressed in a 60's inspired, throroughly mod Frankie a-line, with a green leather mini-tote-like-thing recalled the Cancer Society bash at the Invesco Field. You know, the one with miles of sushi, rolled up, of course.

Last night a DJ ruined my night by pontificating [is that a word?] on drugs when I asked if he played trans music, which is the limited extent of my dance music knowledge.

A guy actually entered the screening of an "Inconvinient Truth", midway, while conversing on his mobile phone. He talked all the way to his seat in the back of the house. Suffice to say, he went back home in his hybrid.

My friend brought from China a Mao-watch - the seconds hand is replaced by Mao's hand waving to the count of the second. My sister wondered what happened at the 6 o'clock position.

I missed an art show opening where the resident artist's clay interactive sculpture, with a string, was brought down by a three year old who yanked its chain. The gallery was delighted to enforce the Pottery Barn Rule. I was unfortunately at a Botox Bash.