Open Letter to the Deer That Got Hit With My Car

Mr. Deer,

Oh my god. Are you OK? You can't possibly be OK. We collided pretty hard, so much so that part of your antler broke off and for one flashing moment I thought your antlers were going to come through the windshield and kill me, Final Destination style. By the time I pulled over and was able to get out of the car (a feat, let me tell you), you had vanished. I can only assume you managed to hobble to the woods.

Mr. Deer, what the fuck were you doing? Technically, I didn't hit you, you hit me. You slammed into my driver's side door, full speed, liker a battering ram. When I called the Scotsman, shaky and on the verge of tears, he explained that it's your "running season," when you're mating and generally being lunatics. I can only assume you were chasing some sweet-ass doe in the hopes of boning. Sorry me and my car were cock blockers.

I am fine, in case you were wondering. I mean, I'm pretty shook up and I'm feeling a little sore today from being jostled around. But other than that, I'm fine. What is not fine is my car. You totally jacked the driver's side door; I can't even open it. My bumper, hood, and the area by my wheel is dent city. My driver's side headlight? Shattered. My thoughts on this are as follows: Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck. Fuuuuuuuck. Because now words like "claims adjuster," and "deductible" have entered into my vocabulary, and to tell the truth, even though I hold two degrees, I understand nothing about insurance. At all. And am pretty dumb, in general, when it comes to cars. I had also just been bragging to my aunt about what good condition Albus was in, and how I was going to ride in him as long as possible.

Now however, you may have foisted a decision-making process onto me. Namely if I should get Albus fixed ($$$), Not get Albus fixed and just tool around in a ghetto car for as long as possible (lame), or pony up and buy a new car with money I don't have. In any event, Mr. Deer, you've provided me with a lot of stress in these pre-Thanksgiving days.

I feel bad about you, though. Blame it on seeing Bambi one too many times as a kid, but I feel immense guilt from last night's collision. Even though I know there was no way I could have avoided you, was unfamiliar with the roads in Jersey, and was driving the speed limit. I keep imagining you limping through the woods, hobbling on broken legs, blood trickling, uneven antlers askew.

Last night, I dreamt of you.

Troubled,

Katie

Seth and Kirsten's Wedding

Let's talk, just for a second, about how backlogged I am on photos. In the last month, I've taken – and this is a rough estimate – something along the lines of 4,450 photos. Keep in mind that's not counting all of the 35mm photography (guesstimating 4 rolls of film per wedding, at 26 exposures per roll = 208 shots) or the 120 Holga (2-3 rolls per wedding, at 16 exposures per roll = 96 shots), or how many I edited "in camera," and deleted as the days went by.

Needless to say, I've got a little work cut out for me, by ways of going through photos. So if I've taken photos for you in the last month and you don't see them on my Flickr yet (*ahem*, Inis Nua people), DON'T PANIC. They're coming. I just have a lot to get through and I'm trying to get through to you all in a timely fashion.

So 4,000-odd photographs in 30 days? CHECK. To hell with your 3sixty5 photo-a-day challenge. Which, if you follow me on Flickr, you can see I gave up on pretty damn quick once Wedding Palooza '09 began. Oh well, maybe next year.

In the meantime, I've been trying to debate what to do in this space, as posting all these photos afterward is making me feel like I'm subjecting you to my vacation slides. Then I figured, hell. This might be a way to break up all of the SICKENING SAPPY ROMANCE that I am currently experiencing. So what better way than with someone else's SICKENING SAPPY ROMANCE?



Oh my goodness, Seth and Kirsten got married!

This was the first wedding of Wedding Palooza '09. And while I was just a guest at this wedding, and not the official photographer, I couldn't help but get a little snap happy.



Kirsten is a liturgical dance instructor, so of course dancing was a part the ceremony, which, as a Pagan (yeah, I said it), I really appreciated.







I love the way the above photo came out. Love the smiles, love the dancing, love love love.



Wayne, who I hadn't seen since my days living in Ardmore, was one of the groomsmen. Let me just tell you: More ham than in a butcher shop. That kid was constantly doing something to steal focus. He should be on stage, with an improv troop or something.



See what I mean?

Also present:



BOBBY!

And:



José! So in a lot of ways, this was like a WYBF FM misfit reunion.



This is Katy, Wayne's fiancé, and if they don't elope in Vegas, I might have scored myself a job as their wedding photographer:



Awww. Rather sweet, they were.

Also, please look at Lukey-Pookie in a tux:



Leslie was all a-flutter at how handsome he looked.





There was some debate at our table as to if we should eat the cake. In college, Seth's favorite prank was to put laxatives into baked goods and leave them around for unsuspecting sugar fiends. But seeing as Seth had to eat the cake first, we figured it was safe.











Crazy as all this seems, I still haven't finished going through the photos for this wedding. I probably have about 150-200 more to sift through, but got waylayed by the next wedding, Mike and Haven's. Which oh my goodness, be on the lookout for those pictures next.

I saw Seth and Kirsten a few weeks after their wedding and they both told me how much they loved my photos and were taking one of them to get blown up on canvas so they can hang it in their house. Which, wow, that made me blush and grin and do the "aww shucks" scuffle a bit. That made me feel really good.

Seth and Kirsten happened to get married on my parents' 39th wedding anniversary. My mother's twin sister, in fact, also chose this date to be married some 20 years after my parents did. I made sure Seth and Kirsten knew what a prestigious date they had chosen. More photos of the wedding (with more to come...) here.

Diseased

The Illness: I'veGotAHotGuyInMyBed-itis

Symptoms: Warm cozy feeling, strong desire to engage in behavior best described as "snuggling," inability to keep hands to self, excessive giggling, blanket stealing, complete lack of will to get out of bed.

Course of treatment: In most cases, one of two options are available.

Cure 1 - Forcing subject out of bed, using brute strength if necessary. Cold showers followed by medicinal consumption of hot coffee and focusing subject's attention on "grownup responsibilities." Side effects include grumbling, pouting, heavy sighs, feet stomping, and sluggish behavior for the remainder of the day.

Cure 2 - Allowing the illness to "run its course." Subject should remain in bed for as long as possible. Good friends and understanding coworkers are essential to this remedy. Side effects include healthy glow, excessive smiling, daydreaming, happy sighs, facial muscles taking on a "sappy" expression, emotional behavior described as "obnoxiously happy."

GUESS WHICH REMEDY I CHOOSE, YOU GUYS.

In other news, sorry for being...well, sappy and obnoxiously happy around these parts. I should be keeping an even head about me, given all the complications, but instead I'm all singing with bluebirds on my shoulder and shit. Whatever. ISN'T IT A REFRESHING CHANGE FROM ALL WHINE ALL THE TIME ABOUT HOW I HATE MYSELF? Yeah, I think so too. We're going to go with it.

Shed it

I didn't really get to celebrate Samhain this year the way I wanted to. In May when I finished graduate school I eagerly looked forward to an open fall season -- one without classes and papers clogging up my life. One where I could be relaxed, social and creative. But the Universe had other ideas for me. I would be social and creative, sure, but "relaxed" never entered my lexicon. Instead, Wedding Palooza '09. Suddenly I was dashing about, camera glued to my face, pockets full of media cards and film.

The Luke and Leslie's wedding occurred on Samhain itself, preventing me from attending both my normal open Samhain ritual as well as an impromptu ritual hosted by friends. Towards the end of the day, exhausted but happy, I was slouched at the end of the table, looking through the photos other people had taken when I came across one someone took of me at the reception. I was looking harried, my mouth half open, most likely directing people where to stand for portraits and my hair was plastered haphazardly across my forehead from when I had come inside from the rain. I felt it was truly an unflattering picture, and I asked the owner of the camera to delete it, lest it appear on Facebook in a few days. It was at this point Renee got up in my face. "You're always doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Saying you look terrible in photos when you don't."

"But--"

"NO. SHUT UP. You are constantly doing this. You always putting yourself down, saying you look bad. Or worse, hiding behind the camera so we can't take your picture at all. I'm sick of it. You look fine, you look better than fine."

"But I'm all wet and my--"

"It was raining, all of us were wet. You know what you look like in that picture? You look like a photographer doing her job. So shut it. I don't want to hear any more. I'm sick to my back teeth of hearing you hate yourself."

I couldn't really argue with her anymore, both because she now lives in Chicago and can kick my ass and also because she's right. It's a problem I've struggled with for a long, long time. If you've read this blog at all, you're familiar and sick of this problem too.

The week before Samhain The Swell Season released their new album, Strict Joy, and I splashed out for the deluxe version, which contains a bunch of live tracks. Glen Hansgard tells this story about a medium who helped two spirits cross over after wandering in the dark for hundreds of years because they had been told they were evil, when in fact they were just wrongly killed for having physical disabilities back in the Dark Ages. You can hear a version of the story here. Right before launching into "Drown Out," Glen explained he wrote the song for anyone doing penance or carrying guilt or self-hatred around with them, asking them to re-examine why they were feeling that way and if it wasn't worth carrying around to "Fucking shed it, man."

I'm not doing this story any justice with the way I'm telling it. The listening to the version on the album, I got chills up and down my back.

Which, really. If that's not the Universe telling me something, sending me this song and story right before Samhain, then I don't know what is. Talk about apt advice.

I've spent the past week sharing the song and the story with everyone I come in contact with, all "Listen you need to hear this one story and this song that goes with it." Sort of like my passing Samhain onto all of my Judea-Christian friends in mp3 form.

It's not just about me shedding my insecurities (although that's a classic and easy example for me to use in this case), but I think, all of us, Pagan or not, embracing change and transformation at this time of year.

Even before I started identifying as Pagan, the fall has always felt like a time of new beginnings for me. Part of it is obviously the beginning of a new school year (say it with me now: NERD), but more than that I've always felt the need to change gears from the lazy days of summer to full active days of the fall before shifting down into quiet reflective days of winter. Just like the leaves take this opportunity to be the brightest and most colorful before shedding themselves and releasing to the wind, so must we. May the wheel ever turn.

(You can hear "Drown Out" here. May you shed whatever it is that's weighing you down.)

True Story

Cross-posted everywhere, because I can't sit still and this is the longest morning ever.

Fuck yeah, Horoscopes

Now that Saturn is out of your true love sector for the first time since September 2007, you truly have a sensational outlook for finding the emotional closeness that you've been seeking for a long time.

With Venus, your ruler, in perfect angle to Neptune, you may also be swept away with sentimental thoughts. If you are dating (or even if you are not), a romantic moment that happens in November could thrill you. You are ready to chart a new direction, so there's no more reason to hang back.

With Venus gliding through your relationship house November 7-30, creating a tender "full moon" effect, your relationship should feel especially sweet this month. One outstanding, four-star day for love to mix perfectly with friendship will be November 14 - plan a party or a big dinner with many friends.


WORD UP, UNIVERSE. I am ready.