We know, we know, we're a bit late in bringing you Intern Anastasia's latest "Here Is New York," but we've got a great explanation - um, well… Okay, we don't have any explanation, so, without further ado, here's Anastasia's take on Ryan McGinley's latest pictorial exploration, I Know Where The Summer Goes” at Team Gallery.

Well, there went my last shred of dignity.

I had just pointed—pointed!—at the MisShapes*, and said, rather uncreatively, “Look, it’s the MisShapes!”

My friend responded, “Um, yeah, I know,” and continued texting. Fucking Tisch kids. We haven’t ALL been in a student film with Sophia Lamar, you know.

Besides us and THE MISSHAPES OMFG, plenty of other obnoxious young white people were there. There were pale girls and boys in leather jackets and ill-advised headbands spilling out onto both sides of Grand Street, waiting to get in and see Ryan McGinley’s photos.

The show, “I Know Where The Summer Goes,” is named after a Belle and Sebastian b-side, and features naked young people much like the ones just described, running free through cornfields and other natural habitats, sometimes backlit by fireworks or obscured by fog. This particular segment of New York really likes looking at itself.

So much so, in fact, that most people stood around craning their necks to see who else was there, and stood in circles discussing who else was there, and made it very difficult to see anything on the walls. But who cared, I just saw John Waters! I did not point this time, but whispered my discovery to my friend, who was mildly impressed—she may have stopped texting for a whole five seconds.

And five seconds after that…”Hey, it’s Genevieve Jones!” I said, “with her…” and here I made a pantomime for “lollipop head.” Not only can I recognize Ms. Jones on sight, I even pronounced her first name “john-vee-ev.” Good thing I didn’t have any dignity!

We made our way downstairs, where the mass of people was slightly less crushing. I got a better look at everyone, and realized this was not a homogeneous crowd. Vegan crusty punks with regulation sugar skull tattoos were standing shoulder-to-shoulder with fur-clad chicks carrying leather It bags. It was a whole rainbow of painfully trendy young white people!

Just then, my friend pointed out two identically dressed guys—tight black pants, oversized nerd glasses—standing exactly the same way, having the following conversation: “There’s some pretty cool people here.” “Yeah, man, some pretty cool people.”

“I should have made a documentary about this opening,” she said. I’d actually prefer a video installation: just those two guys, commenting on how cool everyone is, on an endless loop. Call it “Here is New York, 2008.”

[*Note: I do not actually like the MisShapes. I have no idea what came over me. Please, do not mock, as my internal shame is enough.]