Want/Need

Currently craving and desperately seeking:

• Money. I am so across-the-board tired of being poor.
  
  
• A new laptop. So much more of my creative work would actually get done if I had a laptop. I had planned on buying one with my tax return, but a good chunk of my tax return went towards car insurance. See above about sick of being poor.
  
  
• Stamina and grace for dancing. I know I need to adjust and my body needs to adapt again, but I am quickly learning that dancing at nearly 30 is considerably harder than dancing at 17. So much so that my new dance teacher told me to "throttle back" lest I hurt myself.
  
  
• A teleportation machine. How have we not figured this out yet? It would greatly benefit me in getting to dance class and the Scotsman in a timely fashion, not to mention be environmentally conscience. Also: swift jaunts to London and Dublin.
  
  
• The ability to correctly predict World Cup winners. I've bollocked myself in my pool. There's $10 I'll never see again.
  
  
• Someone to do the Table of Cases indexing for my law book. It's annual law book time so that means it's time for endless case indexing. I'm only on chapter 4 and I want to EAT my FACE.
  
  
• An endless supply of Cobb Salads from Salad Stop. They're my new addiction.
  
  
• The latest episodes of Doctor Who already torrented for me to watch. See above about not having a laptop, and thus having to sneak episodes on other computers. I'm two episodes behind and it's making me antsy.
  
  
• Not to be spoiled on True Blood. I just finished season 1 via Netflix and I'm trying to avoid season 2 spoilers which is hard when season 3 just started and everyone is talking about "where things left off."
  
  
• Amanda Palmer's Radiohead Ukulele cover album to hurry up and be released already. The first single has me very excited about the entire album.
  
  
• This week to be over already.
  
  
• Inspiration for writing, both in this blog and other places, on topics other than Irish dance.

Dance Setback

Major bummer.

I just found out that the regular step dancing classes I was going to take with Timoney have been postponed until the fall. Mainly because of lack of summer students.

Having spoken to Rosemarie Timoney, she advised that I come to the Monday night ceili classes all summer and hinted that she might show me some steps on the side. I am also hoping that once she sees me ceili dance she will scoot me into the intermediate classes instead of the beginner.

I was worried about this because this is similar to what Colye did every summer. Regular classes closed down and only ceili and championship level lessons were held. This is mainly because everyone's schedules go crazy in the summer and between holidays and vacations it's hard to teach new things.

I will be attending the ceili classes, for sure, because at least it's dancing of some kind. But as you can see from previous posts, I am itchy about learning and performing steps again. Perhaps I should make up a summer practice schedule for myself and just work on everything I learned from Coyle and most recently from McDade and concentrate on perfecting it all to make up for the 10 years out of dance.

Softly Softly catchy monkey

Oh hell.

It's nearly April, and I already feel so much slipping away from me. Back in January, I vowed to take a photography class and have photo essays/submissions ready for May and...I have done none of that.

I've been stuck in a photography rut for a long, long time. Not just the "I don't want to touch my camera" burnout, but also a technique rut. In which I do the same things over and over again. My camera is perpetually in automatic mode, I use my 55mm lens constantly, and I never use my flash. It's not a "style," it's a habit, and a bad one. I recently went through the photos I took for The Scotsman during his black belt test and the photos I took for my brother of Gagarin Way and was totally disappointed with how they all came out.





Above: Two examples of my incompetence and amateur habits coming back to haunt me.

*Sigh*

I had plans to take a spring photography class with Chester County night school, which cost roughly $140, but that plan disintegrated when my finances took a nose dive.

I am feeling so frustrated with my life lately. Since we're on lockdown, I can openly bitch that a large portion of this is my job. I can't tell you how miserable I am right now. I don't mean to sound churlish, because ultimately this place has taught me a lot and I'm grateful to have a job at all in this economy, but seriously: I have had enough. I'm tired of the yo-yo-ing between having nothing to do to OHMYGODDOITALLRIGHTNOW, seriously sick of the crappy treatment my department gets, I am not getting paid nearly enough, and I am completely over the lack of competent communication here.

About two weeks ago one of my editors pulled me into a meeting because I was "on the [blog name] team." To which, I said, "Um." Because, literally, for the first ten minutes of this meeting I had no earthly idea what he was talking about. Seems my company decided to launch a new blog and I was supposed to work on the photos and images for it except no one decided to tell me. Or my manager, for that matter. The editor kept saying [blog name] over and over again and I kept giving him confused looks because to me he was just stringing three random nouns together. This would have been bad enough, but added onto that, they needed photos right away and after my initial scramble to find images I realized that I (1) had not been given the proper URL for the
site, and (2) I didn't have a login or password for the site to upload photos anyway.

Can you imagine how embarrassing all of that was for me? Can you imagine how frustrated my manager felt when I explained what was going on? When she complained about it, she was told that the reason we weren't notified about the new site or my duties, was because "so much changes with these sites and they don't want to bother [us] until things are settled." Which I called out to be the lamest fucking excuse ever. That blog has a team of, like, 6 people, all of whom were consistently kept in the loop while the site was developed. How fucking hard is it to add me or my manager to the email list? Or if not through the whole development of the site, than shooting an initial email of "Hey heads up we're launching a new blog. Site name and launch date TBD." It took me less than a minute to type that all out, and yet, they can't be buggered.

While I realize that communication problems occur at every office, shit like this has been happening nonstop for over 2 years now. It's gone from annoying to obnoxious to frustrating and now it feels blatantly disrespectful. The communication issue has been really getting my goat, because we voice our concerns and complain about it, we're assured that things will get better...and we continue to get the shaft. This is especially galling as my company publishes a couple publications dedicated to better communication with employees. Hello, irony! Nice to see you again.

Worst of all, I have the creepy feeling that I am on a sinking ship. I think we jumped on the internet bandwagon way too late (well, duh), and I am confident we are marketing a lot of our products incorrectly. The fact that we are still, in this day and age, selling our publications via telemarketing and there is no way to purchase subscriptions online, is beyond retarded.

So needless to say, I've been looking for a new job. I had thought with my master's degree I would sail into a new position, however, given the state of the economy, I might as well have gotten a master's degree in etching stone tablets. The publishing jobs are few and far between, and so many of them are beyond what I feel is my experience, either in terms of design or web requirements. If you know of a job working for either a book or magazine publisher* (university, textbook, medical, whatever) doing production, proofreading, design, layout and light web work, PLEASE, let me know about it. I am desperate. Also, anyone want to hold a résumé party? Mine needs work.

Despite all of these frustrations, I am trying to be patient. Both with myself and the universe at large. "Different frogs, different times," as Gareth Keenan would say.

I finally gave up and renegotiated my student loans, which has been the main source of my financial troubles. I had been dragging my feet about doing it because I was worried that doing so would add more interest/take me longer to pay them off, but finally I had no choice. I'm glad I did it, and it's already working out much better for me. Plus, although my payments will go up in 2 years, it will still take me the same amount of time and interest to pay them off. Woo!

Because I now have a tighter reign on finances, I can look into taking a photography class this summer perhaps. I can also start making serious moves towards Irish dancing again. Back in February at the Irish/Scottish festival, I located a school in Bridgeport that's willing to teach adults and my initial reaction was, "I'm there!" But, while the lessons are reasonably priced (for Irish dancing) I discovered that I need new soft shoes which can be anywhere from $40-$65 and need to be shipped from Ireland. So... dancing took a back seat too. Which is a shame because I've been faltering on gym attendance (exercise is so fucking boring, I hate it), and my fat is creeping back to dangerous levels. But now! I think I may be back in business!

As far as photography goes, I'm trying to give myself a break. Like, Rome wasn't built in a day. And occasionally, when I'm not paying attention and relaxing with my camera, I can accidentally take a really nice photo:



Above: Sarah Rose, giggling at our 12th Annual Chinese New Year Lunch

I've just scheduled two new photo jobs with the N Crowd in April, one of which is for their Anniversary show. $ for photos = A very good thing.

This weekend is a special Silver Stars field trip to see Silver RavenWolf at Celtic Myth and Moonlight, with stops at Bey's Rock Shop and possibly Zern's Farmer's market. I've never been to any of these places, and as I was considering the trip this morning I had the urge that I should bring my camera, for fun. FUN and my CAMERA. In the same thought process! I call this progress.

Spring is here, so I'm feeling optimistic about possibilities. I'm working on an über seekrit project with Stephanie and Melissa, which shall be grand fun. Inis Nua has a reading on Monday night, which I'm looking forward to. And then their spring show, Bedbound, opens next month and I suspect it shall be awesome. I'm getting a pedicure tonight to make my toes purty. I get to try on and purchase my bridesmaid dress for Renee's wedding so very soon. We're ditching crap-ass Verizon and getting Comcast and thus, cable again. Gary is back to doing art work so I plan to be inspired by him. Spring is a time of new beginnings, yes? Then let's get started.

*I am also open to suggestions for where to look for a job. I'm currently combing Monster, HotJobs, CareerBuilder, BookJobs.com, HigherEdJobs.com (for University Presses and alumni/PR publications), and GraduateJobs.com Any other suggestions on where I can look?

Oh Look...

And we're back to this bullshit again. So much for me being optimistic about all parties involved behaving in a civil manner.


And while I'm up and all private-like: Fuck off, lady. Let me remind you that you left him. Stop being all pissy when he continues his life without you, because, if you recall, YOU DIDN'T WANT HIM ANYMORE. Get over it, woman.

Freedom, Malaise, and Freedom from Malaise

First of all, fuck this fuckery of being on lockdown because I am sick of it and frankly it's boring and I'm not doing much writing anyway, so really what's the point. Furthermore, things have essentially calmed down (knock on wood), and putting this thing on private was just me being ridiculously cautious.

So, yes. Hello.

And now I begin the most random, semi-whiny entry in existence to catch you all up.

It's mid-January so thus I begin my regular bout with depression. Everything is technically fine, but I find myself feeling so down. Everything feels like it requires such a huge effort to accomplish. Just getting out of bed can feel like a trial, and I have to have a serious Come-to-Jesus with myself to get up some mornings. And again, let me assure that things are really and truly OK, it's just the way I get this time of year. Everything is so dark and cold, I should really just hibernate the fuck away.

A large part of this depression is frankly due to something I can't really talk about in a public forum. But it's a BIG part of my everyday life and I can't seem to escape it. I've been trying to escape it for the better part of a year, but I am not having any luck and it is hitting me now how much I need to fucking move on already, because it's truly making me miserable. (Is this vague enough for you? I think it's quite obvious what I'm talking about without saying directly.)

Money is troubling me because I seem to have none (uh, see above) although photo jobs are starting to swing my way again and help out with some temporary cash re-flow, but my car payments (sigh) and student loans (sweet Jesus) are taking their toll on me. I'm debating getting a second job, but fuck me, I do not want to have to do that. Plus, my sense of entitlement is telling me that I shouldn't have to do that. I'm eventually just going to have to get off of my high horse, because it's a recession bitches.

Speaking of photography, after Wedding Palooza '09 I hit a wall. I was sick to death of my camera and didn't want to even touch it for two months. So I didn't. Now that I'm being forced over the hump, due to jobs and such, I need to reconsider some things. Such as, while I think I take nice portraits and such, I'm not particularly challenging myself. My photography, ironically, is missing a point of view. I don't think my pictures say anything other than I hang about with some gorgeous people and have a knack for capturing them. I'm trying to decide what to do about this. A friend from Rosemont tipped me that Narrative Magazine is always looking for submissions, giving me a serious wink and a nudge. But a quick tour through my archives quickly pointed out that I am lacking in the artistic quality needed for such a submission. Additionally, Pictory Magazine has left me both breathless and intimated. When I say I want to be a good photographer, these are the types photos I am talking about. It is also why I think I am not a good photographer – I don't have photos like this, not even close. Rather than be bummed about it, I'm going to fix it. Resolutions, for all to see:

1. I will take a serious photography class of some sort this year.
   
2. I am going to buy my own external flash and learn how to use it properly and get over my aversion to flash.
   
3. By May I will have completed on photo essay suitable for submission and publication.

Along the same lines, I signed up for a FlavorsMe site, with the hopes of self-promotion and am thinking of getting a RedBubble profile so I can sell some of this bullshit in the form of prints and canvases.

Don't ask me about writing, because I've done fuck all in that area.

I've hit an all-time low as far as artistic slumps go. See vague paragraph 5, which has hindered my design aesthetic in a way I hadn't thought possible. Reason #4724 why I need to move on already.

My computer buggered out on me. I have no money to replace it, not that it was a particularly good computer in the first place. I desperately need to replace it, too. Anyone want to lend me $2400 for a new MacBook Pro? Because as I try to save money, it inevitably keeps getting funneled to bills.

Despite the all the payments, I am head over heels in love with my new car. In case you weren't following on Facebook, I opted for a 2010 Toyota Corolla in electric blue. I've named it the TARDIS, because it's a Toyota and Relative Dimension in Space, see. I love the TARDIS and how zippy and shiny it is and how corners like it's on rails. Also, after years of second-hand cars, I can't tell you how nice it is to drive something that I chose and that is mine mine mine and exactly what I wanted. It's not a boat! It's a fun color! It feels like my car. And it's under warranty and actually, like, reliable and whatnot. I can drive long distances and not worry about it. The steering wheel doesn't shake when I go above 65mph. Amazing.

Things with The Scotsman are great, more than great actually, and now that I'm sacked down in my January dumps I am quite thankful to have him, because he is one thing that is making me quite happy. The one struggle is the distance between us and our schedules – we don't see each other nearly as much as we would like. We're averaging every other weekend and trying to take turns in each other's state. We've crossed major hurdles – he met my family and a good portion of the 141 crew, I've (briefly) met his daughter – so I feel like things are on a good track. I know a lot of you are still anxious to meet him and scope him out, but be patient. I have a lot of friends and I'm trying not to overwhelm him too much. In the meantime, enjoy this picture of the two of us taken at the Witch Parade. Ignore that it's not the best picture of us ever. We seem to have glassy eyes (thank you, flash, and multiple beers we had imbibed) and ignore that I have flowers in my hair like the pagan dork I am:



I like him. I'm so glad that he likes me too.

I got my hair cut short. I loved it for 2 days and now I'm dying for it to grow out.

I gained so much weight over the holidays, I feel like a porker. I know things will be better once I get back in the habit of going to the gym, but file that under "things that are seemingly impossible for me to do right now."

Spiritually, I'm looking forward to a good year. Silver Stars have taken me under their wing and I'm working on ritual writing and taking a more active role in the IP. Additionally, my dreams have been out of control these past weeks.

Just writing out a lot of my complaints and unleashing a bit about my depression is helping me feel better. Additionally, it is sunny and 48° out today, unlike the disgusting cold rainy mess it was yesterday when I began this entry. I promise you I'm OK. Some fun entries are coming up (including Luke and Leslie's wedding post!), so stay tuned!

Ugly

Facts on Facts: I have never, in my life, felt pretty.

Ever.

Tonight, Krista and I played true confessions. I admitted:

1) I would change everything about me if I could.

2) Anytime a guy has liked me, anytime, ever, I have always considered it a momentary lapse; a temporary insanity.

3) I hate how seemingly easy it is for other people. I admitted to a lot of envy and jealousy for girls in our group. Girls that I love. Girls that I would trade places with in a heartbeat. Girls who I have analyzed, studied, and copied in an effort to be that careless and light when it comes to attention from members of the opposite sex. Girls who don't realize how lucky and easy they have it. How fucking nice it must be to be thin, and pretty.

4) How fucking douchey men can be.

5) How despite all my accomplishments and talents, I will always be less. Second best because I don't fit into a nice package.

6) How all it takes – after fooling myself and building myself up for months – is one asshole comment from a guy to tear it all down again.

I hate being this way.

Edit: Realize now that I was being a self-loathing wanker and need to MOVE ON ALREADY, because this kind of thinking, behavior, and attitude is frankly getting old and boring. See two entries above for why it's not deleted completely.

Oh, cut me some slack already

I went out at lunch to tried to soothe my troubled thoughts and emotions by delving in the comfort of books -- I went to the local Barnes & Noble and wandered amongst the stacks, the fresh smell of warm chocolate cookies wafting through the air, bright covers cheerily lined on the shelves.

On my way back to the office: My "Check Engine" light came on.

Fuck you, Universe. FUCK YOU.

No more Murder!

So. There's no good way to say this but: Murder!, the play I was in, has been canceled.

Obviously this sucks huge, as I was really looking forward to being on the other side of the stage for a change, and was rather enjoying the whole process.

As to why it's been canceled, it's a long, dramatic and complicated story and I might need a flow chart to explain it to you. The bare bones simple explanation for it is that due to a domestic dispute, one of our cast members was being threatened and for safety's sake needed to take herself out of the production. Given the short notice and how simple an operation we are — no understudies — we felt that we could not feasibly replace her in time. To say nothing of the fact that this particular cast member was so pivotal in getting the production together in the first place, it just didn't feel right to do it without her.

There's talk of us doing the show at another time, when things have calmed down, perhaps in June. Another suggestion that was made was to have us do it in the Fringe Festival (...yeah. I don't know that I quite have the balls to do that). At any rate, all cast members are interested in trying to do this again at some point, so we'll see what happens.

Meanwhile, I am stuck with this awesome dress:



I love this dress so much. I look damned PHENOMENAL in this thing, I'm like poured into it and it's Vamp City and I'm the mayor. So Saturday night, I'm wearing it. I'm wearing it and I'm drinking a couple of sidecars and I'm standing in my living room and I'm saying all of my lines. So there.

Nothing to see here.

I'm not going to bore you with details, but what started off as an awesome weekend, ended quite crappily. So I'm going to cop-out and do another photo mosaic. Sorry. I don't really feel like sharing and I don't feel like writing. So I'm...not, basically. Anyway:

1. The last dream you had made you feel _________.
   
2. The most evil thing you've ever done?
   
3. Last thing you ate?
   
4. Last thing you purchased?
   
5. What were you doing at 7pm last night?
   
6. The one thing in the world you wish for most often?
   
7. The one word that sums up your weekend?
   
8. BEST ALBUM OF ALL TIME?
   
9. Current nail/toe polish?
   
10. Dream hairstyle?
    
11. What are you listening to right now?
    
12. Favorite painter?

It's not you, it's me

Every year I get this way.

I get in a funk. I get...icky.

Winter is still here. It's still goddamned February, shortest month of the year that somehow manages to feel the longest.

Everything is cold. Nothing is growing or changing. The ground is hard and unyielding.

I hate being cold. I'm sick of being stuck in frumpy sweaters and bulky coats. I'm tired of static electricity zapping me every time I try to pet the cats or touch a light switch. I'm irritated at my dry itchy skin and my sore chapped lips.

I am sick of my own damn self. I am crawling out of my skin.

Everything seems so monotonous and unsatisfying.

The past couple years I've had school to distract me from this feeling. Classes and busy work that I need to plunge into, push through and force myself to move and act. This year? I'm independently working on my thesis. And given my mood, I am lacking in motivation right now to do anything. I am lethargic.

I want to hibernate. I want to hide under my covers and not come out until it's warm and the sun lures me out.

I've been sleeping more lately, going to bed earlier and waking later. My sleep is restless and I wake anxiously in the middle of the night, my pajamas and covers twisted and binding me.

I had a dream last night. I was in England. Kelly was with me. We were sharing a flat. When we opened our windows, the salty smell of the ocean blew in and we were invigorated by it. We sat on our balcony, eating bread and cheese, watching boats pass by on the water. Tree branches hung over us, green leaves gently waving in the breeze. We were talking about boys, Christopher and Brisket, laughing.

I woke up completely disappointed that dream was not my reality.

Ew

nataliedee.com

I've got the death cough. At least it's not whopping cough.

Why I hate winter: Reason #3078

It is effing cold here. I know I shouldn't complain, because it's only 23° here with the wind chill making it feel like 8°, and meanwhile in Chicago it's 0° with the wind chill making it feel like -20°. NEGATIVE TWENTY. I call bullshit. Humans were not made to live in conditions like that.

But yes. It's still cold here and when I walked out to my car this morning, I discovered that the locks on my car were frozen. Fine. So I broke out my handy dandy lock de-icer, which I have just for this purpose. The directions on my de-icer clearly sate: "Insert tip of red nozzle into key hole and press against lock." People, that is exactly what I did. And this is what happened:

The tip of the de-icer broke in my lock.

Yes.

The only good thing about this, is that I decided to start on the passenger-side door, since my driver's side door gets seriously wonky in cold weather. So I called a tow truck and the tow truck man was incredibly nice to me. He muscled open my frozen driver's side door and told me that I shouldn't lock my doors in the cold. "You have a Ford. They suck. Just let someone steal it instead. If they're out stealing cars in this weather, in Malvern of all places, they deserve to get your car."

Meanwhile, I still have the tip of the de-icer jammed in my passenger side lock. The tow truck man told me that I should wait until it gets "warmer" and then fish it out with some needle-nose pliers. "I could do it for you now, but then I'd have to charge you, like, a ridiculous amount. Just do it tomorrow, when you have more time." I would like to thank Mr. Tow Truck Man and DiAntonio's Towing for not charging me for winter suck and my car doors being retarded.

Seriously, fuck off, winter.

Conversation I imagine the cats having yesterday

Galahad: Where's the human female?

Dill: Oh, she does this sometimes.

Galahad: Does what?

Dill: Well, she'll go off and disappear, surfacing only for food, sleep and the occasional British comedy. It happens every couple of months. You always know when it's happening because she starts muttering about "finals" and "projects" and keeps forgetting to cuddle you. Don't worry. It will pass.

Kayla: Really? Because she's been gone, like, 18 hours.

Dill: No, don't worry. She always comes home, eventually.

Galahad: She just seems so...tense these past couple of days.

Dill: Yeah, it happens. But then, when it's over, she's suddenly home like ALL the time, and constantly wants to play with you and pet you. It's awesome.

Kayla: Oh, good. You know what?

Galahad: What?

Kayla: I was thinking we should do something for her.

Dill: Really? Like what?

Kayla: Well, I don't know. It's just that human female is so good about filling our food dish and constantly refilling the water bowl after Galahad spills it everywhere.

Galahad: I like water, OK?

Dill: She is really good for those things.

Galahad: It's wet! And it feels squishy and cool in your fur. And when you tip the bowl over, and makes a big clanging sound and a SPLASH! How do you not love that?

Kayla: She's also really good about leaving around little pieces of plastic for me to play with.

Dill: She's so good at the chin rub too, did you ever notice? Like, she knows exactly when to rub underneath your chin and along your jaw. Gets me everytime, that does.

Galahad: And once the water has splashed on the floor, you can ROLL in it, all orgasmic-like.

Kayla: ANYWAY. I was thinking that we should do something nice for her, is all.

Dill: But what can we do?

Galahad: Maybe we should give her a present.

Kayla: Oh a present! Perfect! It's Christmas and the season of giving, after all.

Dill: But what would human female like?

Kayla: Oh! You know what? Recently she's been all about that new piece of furniture in her room.

Galahad: Do you mean the bed? That's not new. It smells distinctly like Conshohocken.

Kayla: How in the world do you even know what Conshohocken smells like?

Galahad: Oh, I know things.

Dill: Whatever. It's new to her. She loves it too, she keeps, like, rolling across it. And yelling, "Starfish!" and then spreading her limbs out and rejoicing when none of her appendages fall off the edge.

Kayla: Humans are so cute sometimes.

Dill: She bought all those new blankets and down comforters and things for it, too.

Galahad: Oh, I know. They're all so soft and cozy for napping.

Dill: So the present should involve the bed, yes? We're agreed?

Galahad and Kayla: Agreed.

Galahad: OH I KNOW.

Kayla: What?

Galahad: Let's give her the gift of food.

Dill: Brilliant!

Kayla: Really? I was thinking of something more shiny...

Galahad: No listen, this is perfect — we all love food, right? So let's give her some of our food.

Dill: But how will we get it up the stairs?

Galahad: We'll have to carry it up in our bodies. We'll eat the food first. And then upchuck once we get upstairs.

Kayla: Sounds...tricky. And a little yucky.

Dill: But she'll know it means we really care.

Kayla: I guess you're right. Hey! Let's make it extra special. Let's make it so she can't figure out which one of us gave her the present. Secret Santa!

Galahad: Oh, she loves a mystery!

Dill: It will be a crazy caper!

Kayla: Crazy Cat Caper! Ok, so immediately she'll suspect Galahad, because he's the resident horker.

Galahad: Hey, when you're good at something, do it early and often.

Kayla: BUT, if we leave too much, she'll start to suspect Dill.

Dill: Ooh, good idea.

Kalya: And just to throw a total wrench into it, as well as throwing up on the bed, we'll also throw up on the floor and...hmmm...I've got it! We'll throw up on the floor and on the sweater that she haphazardly threw towards the hamper, but landed on the floor and I like to nap on. So she'll have evidence towards all three of us!

Dill: This is the best plan ever! Let's go!

Galahad: I can't wait to see her face when she comes in at 3 a.m. after a long night of design and writing and sees that she has to wash all of her brand new sheets and blankets and has to sleep on the couch!

FIN

Shut up, EightK

Let's go ahead and delete that last and pointlessly bitchy post, shall we?

I'm still in a grouchy mood, but now that I'm home and I have a Jameson's on the rocks safely by my side (HELLO), I'm able to gain some perspective. And namely, that my piddly grievances are small potatoes and I should just shut the hell up already.

So, deep breath. Tomorrow will be a nicer day.

Gah!

I hate it when my ability to write coherently fails me.

Less than 24 hours until I leave for the UK. Anyone want to fix my paper for me? Because it's broken right now. I hate myself.

Some things

QK is now 30 years old, and hot damn.

I made this cake, as well as this one, again. Both turned out excellent, and coupled with the carrot cake that Becky made, means QK got one cake for each decade of her life.

I really, really wanted to be all kinds of crazy and drinky on Saturday night, but the start of a nasty cold/sinus infection prevented me from helping QK down that magnum of champagne the way I really wanted to. Instead, it left me grumpy and sitting on the couch.

And really, this cold/sinus thing can go fuck off already. I ended up calling out of work yesterday (Renee: shut up) mostly due to that (shut up) and the lack of sleep I received (shut up) and today I sound like a gross fog horn blowing my nose every five seconds and my lips are all chapped and weird and ew ew ew. Aside from all that, I feel generally OK though, but the whole ordeal makes me feel annoyed and decidedly unsexy. Still, Renee cooked me dinner of chicken and dumplings last night and let me lay on her couch all snotty and pathetic to watch Heroes, which OMG.

Wales is a MONTH away, as the Economist was so kind to remind me. Because I'm not STRESSING THE FUCK OUT as is.

So an update: I have begun work on the paper. Passport is hung up on a tiny hiccup that should be resolved today. Credit card is ready to purchase tickets. I'm not in the best of shape, but things are progressing. However, this news has made me bummed, as Paul Cornell was one of the people I was looking most forward to meeting. Still, it's going to be a good time regardless, and there are plenty of other cool Who people around.

Faffing dollars.

You guys. Have you seen what the market is doing today?

I mean, for fuck's sake. Maybe I shouldn't have discounted my grandmother so much 7 years ago when she was hording hundreds of dollars in coffee cans. Granted, I blamed that on her increasing dementia (she often thought it was 1937 and I was her sister) and paranoia (she kept telling me robbers were coming to take her money and tried to get me involved in elaborate schemes to hide the money from the thieves), but she may have instead been incredibly prophetic.

There's also this, which gives some black humor to the situation. And REALLY?!?!

For real, I think there's like $29 in my 401(k) right now.

Shut up, David Blaine.

Because once again, nobody cares.

Downsides

The Downside to Digital Photography: Losing photos through your own stupidity.

A few weeks ago I attended a Phoenixville Block Party and took lots of photos in the hopes that I would be able to sell them to Chester County Living Magazine -- I knew CCLM had planned on doing a story on the Friday Block Parties, and through a contact I hoped I would be able to pitch them my shots before they assigned a photographer to the job. Long story short, they scrapped the story altogether due to timing and space constrictions, but that's neither here nor there.

After the block party, I headed home to Malvern. As I was pulling onto my street, I remembered that the Malvern Fair was in it's final night. Since I had a lot of space left on my cards, I decided to head down there and take some shots just for fun. I didn't capture anything earth-shattering or important, just some towny shots of a carnival. I was experimenting with exposures and enjoying the effects of the lights. It was a lot of fun, and I was excited to see what the photos looked like on a full screen, as opposed to my wee camera viewscreen. Towards the end of the night, I ran into Mike and Mel and we got ice cream together and watched the fireworks -- which I also took photos of.

Because I was so focused on the job of the Phoenixville Block Party -- editing them, making sure they were uploaded in a timely fashion, and sending links to the appropriate people -- I set the media cards containing photos from the carnival aside.

And because I'm a retard, I forgot about those photos until two days ago.

And then I realized that I had reformatted all of my media cards, meaning the photos had all been deleted.

Thankfully, the photos were nothing important, but still. I am so disappointed, mostly with myself. Gah.

The Downside of Digital Photography: Technology Randomly Being a Beeotch

This afternoon I was taking some headshots for my Uncle Tamin and cousin Alex, both of whom are fledgling actors and getting work in local plays, commercials, and student films. This was a difficult job, seeing as my uncle, God love him, is particular about what he wants. As for Alex, bless, it's damn near impossible to get him to smile naturally, or at least in a way that doesn't look forced, cheesy, or like he just stepped out of a commercial for gum circa 1958. Exacerbating the situation, I only had a media card with the capacity for 16 shots. It was taking forever, but finally I got some genuine pictures and moved on to use my 35mm for a bit and take some shots of my uncle. But when I went to pick my digital camera up again, the card read as full -- even though I knew I still had six shots left. When I went to view to photos, it read as "No Image." WTF?

This has only ever happened to me once before, when I was taking photos of Gary's art for his portfolio. That time, I knew something was off before I even looked through the viewfinder. A bit of static electricity had come up from the carpet and shocked me when I touched the camera. It was such a strong, powerful shock and I knew it was bad news. It fried my media card and it had to be reformatted.

This time, I couldn't figure out what had happened. We were outdoors, so there was no chance for static electricity, and I had set the camera down for less than 10 minutes. It was so frustrating. We had to call Alex back, the poor kid had been playing and was sweaty and not in the mood for going through the whole, "Smile! No, not like that, smile normal" thing again.

All in all, good reasons to remember why 35mm is classic and can be quite hassle-free.

On Notice

To Mr. Viral Meningitis and Mr. Brain Infection,

Sirs, you are on notice. Your eviction is imminent. Please begin packing your bags. In the meantime LEAVE MY FRIEND ALONE, YOU BASTARDS.

Pissily,

8K


P.S. -- Any healing thoughts or prayers you can spare to this pretty girl would be appreciated.