The Complete Idiot's Guide to the Way I Feel

(or felt)

Weird. For a while, I was the only person walking around the Tilton Gallery on the Upper East Side of New York on Saturday, perusing the David Lynch exhibit. The place is a bit strange (appropriately?), in that it was obviously someone's 19th-century house at one point -- there are lots of fireplaces and rickety wooden stairs to the second level, which has a Victorian tin ceiling. But the walls are covered with some mighty disturbing and/or surreal contemporary images. (See a couple of pix I took here and here.) It's not an unpleasant contrast. It's just that when I think of an art gallery, I think of one of those minimalist store-front places you see in Soho or Lynch's hometown, L.A. (The man himself will be at Tilton for a reception on the 16th; maybe I'll go back.)

Hungry. I'm a cereal killer. Every morning I eat a bowl of Grape Nuts, which are very filling, but today we had run out of milk, so I had to make do with a bagel. I've felt empty all day, not ravenous, but as if something is missing. I bought milk, so maybe I'll eat Grape Nuts for dinner. Except then I'll feel like the day should be starting, not winding down. And today has been confusing enough, what with the preternaturally warm winter weather and daylight saving time starting. By the way, it is daylight saving time, not "savings". Daylight cannot be banked, more's the pity.