AnnArbor.com entertainment digital journalist Jenn McKee is exploring the Ann Arbor Art Fairs today and offering thoughts as she goes:

10:06 a.m. Leaving the air conditioned office to head out to the Fairs. Let's see how many pounds I shed by way of Mother Nature's sauna.

10:18 a.m. Looking, though not ardently, to see if I can find something fun and reasonably priced for my 2-year-old daughter...

10:25 a.m. Would buy a Shakespeare and Co. print for a friend of mine at a booth on Liberty, but the artist is gone. Shoot. Also in the same booth, a guy just came up to a photo of Venice and asked, "Where are the pigeons?" Having never been to Venice, I'll give this fellow the benefit of the doubt and presume the place is lousy with pigeons.

10:45 a.m. Found cute wooden elephants on wheels for $6, but they don't have ears, so no go. So weird what suddenly matters to you when you're actually thinking of handing over money to someone. (Also, is it me, or are many of the rings on sale at the fair the size of my hand?)

11 a.m. Just brushed against a remarkably clammy man on Main Street. Part of the Fairs experience.

11:20 a.m. Lingered around Jim and Victoria Mullan's quirky, fabulous birds on Main like an unabashed groupie. Note to self: please, please pretend to be cooler.

11:28 a.m. Clang clang clang went the Art Fair trolley — right on past me — ding ding ding went the bell, zing zing zing went my heartstrings... Why am I suddenly in the mood for Rice-a-Roni?

11:45 a.m. Back in the office. Aircard issues. But I'm about to head out again — toward State Street and the Street Art Fair — in search of affordable art, lunch, and the American Dream.

12:00 p.m. The nonprofit area's pretty low-key today — nothing like yesterday, when there was a pretty heated discussion at the "against infant circumcision" table. Today, there's just a greyhound sprawled on the ground at the greyhound rescue booth. Too humid to argue, I guess. Not that that would stop my litigator husband...

12:20 p.m. First time entering the King's Courtyard this year. There are some really cute, mostly animal-themed water bottle holders for kids. But all I can imagine is my daughter urging me to carry it after two minutes, thereby nullifying a good part of its usefulness. Adorable, though. (And note to self number two: let the booth attendant know what you're doing before shooting video!)

12:32 p.m. Still in the Courtyard. Had to take a moment to obsess over a handbag made from the album cover of the "Xanadu" movie soundtrack. The artist mentioned sitting on the stage during a performance of the Broadway stage musical version, and I gushed with him about the show a bit before looking at the bag again and remembering that I don't ever use purses. But if I did, it would be one made of a "Xanadu" album cover. (And another "Xanadu" fanatic was stopped by the sight of the bag before I even left the tent.)

12:48 p.m. Meandering on the sidewalk near Liberty and Division, I spot a woman at a table selling small chalkboard/dry erase board sets. I remember hearing a fair-goer stop someone else on the sidewalk yesterday and asking where they could purchase one — so I stop, and they ARE cute. (The L.A.-based woman's not officially a part of the fair, but rather rents space for a table.) I buy one for my daughter, and although the woman can't take credit cards, she agrees to let me send a check. Amazing — hope her trust doesn't get abused by others.

12:50 p.m. Someone stops ME and asks about the chalkboard. Seriously good word of mouth on these.

12:53 p.m. Sudden rain while I'm at the Dawn Treader tent. Those of us with umbrellas inevitably look smug. After a few minutes of people clustering under awnings and in the Michigan Theater alley, things lighten up, and fairgoers timidly start to step out.

12:57 p.m. PSYCH!! The skies suddenly open up again, and folks flock into Borders and cafes and restaurants.

1:15 p.m. Fairgoers jockeying for chairs and anything else you can sit on at Borders while I take advantage of their Wi-Fi.

1:30 p.m. Poke my head in the Michigan Theater, where those-in-the-know take a restroom break, get a hot dog, and listen to a woman playing the organ in the main auditorium. First I hear the "Raiders of the Lost Ark" theme, followed by "Hopelessly Devoted to You" from "Grease," a song I sang with my hairbrush-microphone a million times in the mirror when I was a kid. What is it with all the Olivia Newton-John movie references today?

1:40 p.m. The rain's still pounding, with rumbling thunder as backdrop, when I leave the theater, and folks are huddled under every space possible, including some art tents that haven't been closed up. A man standing in one points to my feet and says, "Crocs! That's what I should have worn today." Say what you want about them, they are ideal for rainy weather.

1:50 p.m. I'd wanted to hang out at a food court today and get lunch there, but the rain has me heading indoors to Panera. There, I spot a decorated paper bag hat on the next table. I've seen several over the last few days, so I inquire and find out it's one of the Kids Art Zone projects at the Street Fair. Here's proof of exactly how cute the hats are (not to mention the artist and model):

2:10 p.m. Oh, hello again, Sunshine...

2:28 p.m. Just watched a couple fall asleep in Panera while eating my lunch. Kind of hilarious and sweet at the same time. The guy, wearing a straw hat, was looking at the screen on his camera, trying to check out the day's photos, but he was slumped over sleeping. Poor things.

2:44 p.m. Art Fairs overheard quote of the day: "For the bedroom, I think this is too ethereal." Side note: bike cops have a quiet little siren (they just blew by me on N. University) they use when trying to get somewhere fast. Who knew? Though the effect isn't "Get out of the way!" but rather, "Aw, isn't that adorable?"

2:50 p.m. Quite a crowd at the Michigan Radio booth at Ingalls. Yes, there are loads of NPR fans in the area, but the real draw was a promotional fan giveaway. Meanwhile, down the row, a community project that involves people gluing pieces of paper to a large turtle was ongoing. Check out the photo:

3:00 p.m. The clothing made by Fair artists is often lovely, but just looking at the hats, wraps, and sweaters makes me feel even hotter. That's got to be a stumbling block for sales on a sweat-soaking July day.

3:02 p.m. Just experienced a sidewalk showdown with a young man in a Superman t-shirt. He was holding hands with a young woman I presume to be Supergirl, and he had a moment of, "Do I let go of her hand momentarily? Or do I go around?" The girlfriend yanked him to her to let me pass by. We know who really wears the "S" in that relationship.

3:12 p.m. Sax player on the Diag, playing freeform jazz something-or-other, which eventually becomes the theme from the Flintstones. Give the people what they want, man.

3:21 p.m. Overheard at the Middle Earth sidewalk sale, spoken by a young employee: "What I don't want is to be an old mom." Just going to slowly back away from that one (as I did in person). On a related note, there's a disappointing dearth of quote-worthy, amusing T-shirts this year at the Fair. But the up-side is, I discovered that if you wear a T-shirt promoting your blog (which I did), you might get several positive responses from passersby. Apparently T-shirt marketing is un-obnoxious enough to score points.

3:30 p.m. Performance artist guy is packing it up on North University. My cue to call it a day, too — and, as soon as humanly possible, take a shower. (There's a ring of sweat around my middle, and as one of my college friends used to say, "If Jenn McKee's sweating, you KNOW it's hot!")

Jenn McKee is the entertainment digital journalist for AnnArbor.com. Reach her at jennmckee@annarbor.com or 734-623-2546, and follow her on Twitter @jennmckee.