06.14.04 - 8:45 p.m.

Not in any of the latest articles on Crazy Celebrity Baby Names does it mention that Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon named their daughter Coco over a decade ago. Are Courteney and David closet mid-90s New York garage rock fans? Or just dooming their daughter to a life of being called Coco Cox? Yahoo, I'm cuckoo for Coco Cox!

Cheese cheese cheese. So much cheese has been eaten over the past week. Moom went on a shopping spree Friday night at Whole Foods, buying gorgonzola, fresh mozz, sheep's milk with hot red peppers and cheese that we thought was similar to the ashy Chaumes I ate at Artisanal... but wasn't. Instead of having an ash rind, it was coated in mold, scary tufty mold, yet underneath that mold was the mildest, smoothest goat cheese EVAH. We ate it before bed both nights and it may in fact be my dinner again tonight.

There was more food -- and random wanton purchases -- interspersed throughout the weekend. I had Chianti on Friday,and fava beans on Saturday at the Spotted Pig. Moom would not stand in line for a Magnolia Bakery cupcake, but she would finally buy me my stripey Tamara Henriques wellies I've been coveting for, oh, a year now. She also bought herself some cute Moomy sandals that were not even on sale, and I was so proud of her rare venture into foot fashion.

We wandered the Brooklyn Museum (I forgot how damn big that place was), through the houses stuck inside the building and underneath an art installation, a rainbow of plastic rectangles emblazoned with random phrases from art publications. We each chose one to describe ourselves: I am "a hodgepodge of brown objects." I found a case on the history of tankards, to which Bassett remarked, "You only like them because they're wearing hats." It's true!

We admired Brancusi sculptures in the big FLW Guggenheim spiral, which is scheduled for a good cleaning some time soon. Moom and I resisted our urges to pet the art, which was probably the smart decision, but oh so hard to make at the time. We also resisted the urge to buy "strong Suprematist magnets" with Malevich paintings on them -- more money for the wellies, I say.

Now I can begin the cleaning of the apartment in earnest, in between a possible visit from Jim this weekend and the definite visit of Matt and Brad over the Fourth. What are we, a youth hostel?