Greetings from the International House Dorm at the University of Chicago. I'm the artist-in-residence at the University all week. So far I've done such official things as use the campus wifi to watch the season finale of Rock of Love 3 on my laptop. I've also been watching MSNBC and cannot understand why the GOP insists on feeding the comedy gods by naming their protests "Teabagging Parties." I've also hung out with my friends and their new baby. And above, you'll see how I met this guy who apparently ran for President in 1984.



Something is up with my camera. It's shooting everything as a half-assed Ralph Ellison literary metaphor. Here, Jesse Jackson becomes a black blur. Tell me if you think my photos look more blurry than usual. And does this mean that I finally have to give up my seven year old camera for something new?



It's cold out. Yet again, I've packed wrong for the weather. I'm in the boonies of Chicago.. ie "Hyde Park" in the Southside of Chicago. These are Barack and Michelle's old stomping grounds. Sasha and Malia's old school is next door to the International House.


The Hyde Park Walgreens, shows that even their history-making hometown hero is not above being marked down on clearance.


I do have to give a talk tomorrow and will be doing a show on Friday. I decided last Sunday that I'd totally veg out at the nearby Science and Technology Museum. That place is quite the scene. Photo opps every ten seconds. Souvenir machines at every exhibit. It was like Disneyland with content. And people eat it up. I wish I could charge my audiences every 10 feet for some memorialization of my show.



One of the most fascinating parts of the museum was watching chicks hatching live. I'd never seen it before. But it's really profound to see a chick be born. When they finally break out of their eggs, they are wet and dirty, exhausted and hang out of their shell, barely moving but breathing, half hanging out of their shells, slowly slumping out for air. And yet, that's just the beginning of what life has in store for them.


They reminded me of what I look like after I mail a grant to the airport just under the deadline.


Then they get cute once they dry off. Then they get eaten.


Space cadet.


Gave a talk at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago today. My friend Roberto had me in his class. The tuition there is insane. 35k a year to make art, listen to Kristina Wong speak about her work, and get a Mother Freaking Artist (MFA) degree!


This is Baby Minara who for some reason has Rod Blagojovich's hair. "Minara" is both a Japanese and Cambodian word that means "Kristina's womb ticker."

I've got to go to bed. Unlike Los Angeles where the days are fast, I am feeling the days more here and getting more work done. My friend and I are shooting a short film. We will be up early in the morning to shoot some more, and then I give a lecture here... and pull my weight!

Labels: marriage grown up crap, road wong

What happens in Vegas is worth a blog post.

Totally bummed out the last few weeks by the ailing economy and emotionally crippled by the prospect of how I will ever gather the energy and willpower to create new shows and write aboard the sinking ship that is the US of A economy, I decided to do what all good Americans do in times crisis -- fly head first into a gluttony and oblivion.

Well, that or, do a work-cation in Vegas! This trip was so much fun because unlike other shows that I do alone, I was able to get two friends to help split the cost of the rental car and come do a road trip with me. My dancer performer friend, Gregory Barnett came and Bangbay. It wasn't hard to coerce them to come-- the power of VEGAS!

I was able get the festival to give Greg a slot to perform too. It was a nice way to get excited about living again. And nurse my secret desire to see what was under the two dimensional exterior of Las Vegas. There's actually a really exciting community of artists in Downtown Vegas and the audience was amazing.

Between the three of us, we did the following: hit a buffet, hung out with locals, almost got married, got two tattoos, performed for the locals, lectured at UNLV, stayed at $20 motel room, did the log ride, ate foods whose cost ended in ".99"... and somehow between all this madness... didn't contract any weird diseases.


$20 a night to stay at the Aruba Spa and Hotel! Our performance was actually in the showroom at the Aruba, so it worked out quite well. And I was happy to see that there was no blood or semen in the sheets.


The law allows drinking in public and smoking indoors, and Gregory took full advantage of his rights.


Yay! They knew I was coming and rolled out the welcome sign!



As we approached Vegas, I announced aloud, "If it doesn't cost 99 cents, we aren't going to eat it!" And here in Downtown Vegas, we meet my cancerous fate.



Here's Bangbay displaying our deepfried heart attacks. Deep fried twinkie and deep fried oreos. They are quite tasty like funnel cakes. I totally broke out afterwards in pimples.


On the way in to the Fremont Street buffet, I used the bathroom and the woman in the stall next to me was sitting on the can and vomiting between her legs onto the floor. There was vomit landing on my shoe and spilling out all over the floor beyond the stall. Everyone in the bathroom was horrified.

Right after emerging from the bathroom filth, we went into the buffet anyway because they advertised a "sushi bar." In short, that was not sushi. It was painful to eat. When we left the buffet, the woman was still in the bathroom vomitting and there was an attendant standing guard to make sure nobody else witnessed the horror.


Yay $1.99 breakfast! Bargain seekers like us are the bane of Vegas waiters everywhere!



This is how we prepare for our show. I sit and think about my lines while Greg re-writes his opening monologue.



Somehow the idea of Gregory getting my name tattooed on him came up. And he had all of one Vegas day to think it over (which really feels like two weeks). He was so enthusiastic about doing it so we walked down the block from the hotel showroom after our show and made it happen. As you can see I'm dressed like a showgirl... you know, because it's Vegas.


The world awaits it's arrival on Greg's leg.



Oh yes, what will go down in history as the dumbest and yet most awesome thing that Gregory has ever done. I told my parents about how Greg got our family name tatted on him, and I think they are still confused (as you may also be). But Greg has like 15 tattoos already, so it's not like I popped his tattoo cherry.



In Baker, CA, a little desert town where the whole world stops to pee, I caught this family looking over a flyer that I'd seen quite a bit in Vegas. We actually thought it would be fun to try shooting guns since it would be so out of character for all three of us. And it would probably be one of those horrific life experiences to try to shoot a weapon. But that morning, I heard about the shootings in Binghamton, NY and it didn't seem funny or ironic anymore to shoot a gun for the hell of it.


I find it fascinating how it is unclear if businesses en route to Vegas are either completely self aware of their own irony or not.


Next up? I go to Chicago, New York and Minneapolis. And glad of it. Work is good. The more, the better.


By the way...

Do you like my new website design? It cost an arm and a leg, and took forever to get up, but now it's up so that presenters smacked by the recession will feel compelled to hire me. (And maybe, you too!)

I do miss the rudimentary charms of my old html site, but I needed an upgrade to something spiffier. Hopefully it will sustain me for years to come.

Labels: road wong