I went ice skating last night, for Sarah’s birthday. Which was fun, itself. I haven’t really skated much since grade school. And I got my balance fairly quickly. Never once did I fall on my face. But that’s mostly because I stopped myself by smashing into the wall, shoulder first. Continue Reading
Another one of my favorite photos. This time, it’s Shannon, as taken at the halloween party thrown by Jeff, last year. I love the look on her face, and the hair being pulled up by the static electricity. I love the ominous balloon looming overhead, and the skeleton peeking over Continue Reading
I think I love that photo. Instant classic. Yesterday was Nguyet’s birthday party. Which means, you know, lots of people in one place, to annoy with my camera. Oh, I tried to behave. Really I did. I was probably there for 2 hours before I ever pulled out my camera. Continue Reading
new version of marsedit… just testing everything
I have always liked wandering around in cities at ridiculous hours. Everything takes on a surreal quality. I used to work a semi-third shift at a newspaper, and would come home at 3, 4, or 5 in the morning, in a small town. And everything was quiet. It was when I first notice that night time tends to have no weather. Especially no wind. It’s a Twilight Zone episode, where you’re wandering around an abandoned city and nothings moving. My favorite memory of that job and those people happened when two of my coworkers, driving home from the same job, pulled over and started a snoball fight, in a suprisingly bright street at 3am.
Today was a good day.
Last September, when I was checking out of the hospital, the doctors mentioned in passing that whole testing me for everything under the sun, they also saw something in my other lung. They didn’t know what it was. But they were “fairly certian it’s nothing”. Just in case, though, I should have it checked out again in about a year.
So while being able to walk and stand and breath again was all good, I’ve spent the last year wondering if I was just getting better so I could die of lung cancer.
This is an open letter to almost every woman I’ve ever met. It’s certianly specific to every woman I’ve dated, and even several of my friends recently. It’s not for one specific person, but there are certianly several people it can apply to.
You simply don’t get to be upset that I haven’t fixed a problem you never told me about. Or more realistically… you don’t get to expect me to feel bad about it. I didn’t know it existed… I couldn’t even contemplate it much less solve it.
And no… “I should have known” is not acceptable. If you have a problem, it’s your responsibility to bring it up. And no; hints and insinuations and a cold shoulder are not acceptable substitutes. I, and from what I can tell – most men, simply do not get a hint. Ever. At all. Period. This is not an exaggeration. There are no exceptions. I mean any hint. EVER. Period. Zero. Zilch.
I’ll be the first one to agree I can be an asshole. I can be insensitive. I can be inappropriate. But if I am one of those things, tell me. Because if you hold it in and it makes your life hell in some way, and you come back to me weeks, months, or years later… I am not going to feel bad. And that’s only going to make you more upset… to which, I repeat… I won’t feel bad.
Most of the trouble I cause in my world comes from an inability to stop myself from talking. At least 95% of those instances revolve around me being agitated to one extreme or another about something. And while I well know I should keep my mouth shut when I’m worked-up, I’m not always succesful. I could argue that most of the agitation is caused by someone else making inappropriate comments in a similarly excited state. But being occasionally unable to ignore such provocations–as you would expect from any rational person–isn’t something to be proud of.
I seem to be able to better handle it in business than my personal life. But then you won’t survive long in business if you take it personally, for various reasons, (mental health, upset clients, lack of objectivity, blah blah blah). And I’ve found that even when a client does go off the deep and attempt to take me with them, if I just keep quiet and wait a day or two, cooler thoughts will prevail without any intervention from me.
I felt kinda good about today. Was an overall positive day. And I felt like I accomplished something while working. And Refresh was entertaining, if not educational, tonight.
So it’s unfortunate when I got home that my email was clogged with messages from clients whining about a pile of petty little things. Doubly depressing when, after hadling what I immediately could and filing anything undeserving of a response, I had only 1 email left. So not only did they piss on my mood, but it wasn’t in the least bit productive.
This calls for a photo collage. My recent favorites:
1. Princesa de la Tempestad, 2. Lotsa Colors, 3. light a cigarette, 4. Goddess Light., 5. artrepair8, 6. seawind, 7. tutu, 8. the promised land, 9. zlatna dolina – sarajevo, mon amour, 10. São Paulo., 11. on the drive to Yosemite, 12. Untitled, 13. yellow, 14. Reykjarvíkurnætur, 15. Sojin with Lemonade and Chips, 16. floored
Failure is being without resource or hope. You have nothing and nowhere. You’re not only homeless, but literally on the streets, with nowhere to go, and no one to turn to. And you have no idea what to do to make it better.
To me, that was always the ultimate worst outcome of failure. (Sure, you can argue death would be worse, but if I died, I don’t think I’d care any more about the failure aspect. And I’m looking for real suffering, here.)
But…
Look at street people. Talk to them. Or, try to anyway. Most of the real, hardcore street people are not there because of a single bad turn of events in their life. Losing your job and getting kicked out of your apartment does not directly equate to peeing yourself and sleeping under a bridge for 15 years. I’m not trying to make any judgement call about these people except to say that they’ve usually got larger issues than a rough patch in life.
So barring extraordinary circumstances, no matter how bad the average, healthy person fails, they’re never likely to hit that perceived rock bottom.
The whole point of this is then to ask: if I simply cannot fail like I always worried, then what’s stop me from trying… anything? What have you always dreamt of doing, but you feared the worst? Well if the worst isn’t a possibility, then what’s stopping you?
Thanks to Stephanie, I went to the ‘yardsale’ the Washington Photography School was holding this weekend. I could have gotten in a lot of trouble there… but I generally behaved myself.
Unanticipated side effect of the new Macbook. It has magnetic latches for holding the lid shut, apparently at each corner. And Pixel–who loves to rub up against the corners–has a tendancy to become attached to the laptop by her metal collar tags.
A collection of photos from the September 15th anti-war march in Washington DC.
I played with iPhoto 6 this weekend, in probably the most detail since I got it. It leaves me conflicted. The problem comes from timing. I’d been using iPhoto for years, since I bought my first digital camera. It’s never been the most powerful tool, but it was the most Continue Reading
You know I get no end of joy out of watching the prostitutes as I walk home late at night. Flamboyant doesn’t even begin to describe them. Is ‘miamiviceish’ a word? But last night as I walked back from the metro around 3:00, a big, black SUV pulled up near Continue Reading
I think I may be addicted to Root Beer. I really can’t stop thinking about it. The good stuff, that has some kick to it. Not the overly-caramelized crap. No doubt it started at Fuddruckers on 18th, sitting there until 4 AM with a bottomless cup of soda and an Continue Reading
I think maybe I need something new in my bag. I carry a bag. It’s really a purse by any other name. But it’s big and bulky and I take it everywhere. It’s the stuff I need on an average day while traveling through the greater Washington area. There’s an Continue Reading
All Stephanie’s fault: