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If EL and I had made some babies, they would have probably look like that… mini-me! My mother drove up today from the coast to Henry-sit while I’m in D.C. the rest of the week. I’m not overly anxious about going, but it is a necessity of the new job. Well, it’s my same old job, just a new position. I’ve laterally transferred to a “Service Provider” focus… meaning: my accounts moving forward will be more AT&T stature and less Jimmy Joe Jim Bob’s Donut Shop stature (not that they were mom & pop before, but still… you seen one corporate enterprise, you’ve seen ‘em all). I am actually on the road much more than usual this month. I’ve taken the 10th off to spend with my brother on his birthday. I am supposed to do a week in Santa Clara for some tech assist at corporate and there is a weekend in the Texas hill country in there somewhere for photo ops and visiting my father. I love to travel if it’s for fun and relaxation. Travel for “da man” is not quite as fulfilling for me. I’ve been there and done that in another life. Not much else to report from me really… I tried to migrate my post processing to the new system, but CS1 hates Vista, so I was forced to upgrade prematurely (read: prior to native 64-bit support) to CS3. $700 later, I’m running CS3 on my Vista Ultimate system, but the only thing that takes the sting away is finally photo editing at 2560x1600 on the 30” Apple cinema LCD. I suppose, in light of recent investment, I should get off my ass and shoot more often. In other news, 300 came out on BluRay today and I have my copy. I’m a little disappointed at the graininess of it all, but I suppose you could blame it on “the look” of the movie rather than rushing the conversion. Eclair is going to get shaved again at her 7:00 aye emm beauty shop appointment. The summer heat and her winter hair just don’t jive. Earlier this evening, I’d made a mental note to swing back by the PC and blog about this, that, and the other thing. Now, a bottle of wine with mom, three beers, and several white russians later, I can’t recall what I wanted to tell you. Rest assured, many more things will slip through the cracks of my not-so-steel trap in the months to come, so I’m sure this particular set of novelties is par for course in average lost and found. I’ll be back from our nation’s capitol sometime Friday night. I’m not sure if I’ll have a chance in my travels to post, but you’ll be the first to know. Sweet dreams mes amis.

I don’t even know why I leave the house sometimes.

also @ Sheldon Lake… Jan. ‘04

“i dig my toes into the sand
the ocean looks like a thousand diamonds
strewn across a blue blanket
i lean against the wind
pretend that i am weightless
and in this moment i am happy...happy

i wish you were here
i wish you were here
i wish you were here
i wish you were here

i lay my head onto the sand
the sky resembles a backlit canopy
with holes punched in it
i’m counting ufos
i signal them with my lighter
and in this moment i am happy...happy

i wish you were here
i wish you were here
i wish you were here
wish you were here

the world’s a roller coaster
and i am not strapped in
maybe i should hold with care
but my hands are busy in the air saying:

i wish you were here
i wish you were

i wish you were here
i wish you were here
i wish you were here
wish you were here”
-Incubus

My stomach is upset. I’m wide awake at 3:27 and there isn’t enough time to take a sleeping aid and not be loopy for work in the morning when I force myself out of bed. I’m so tired of being sad all the time. I feel like throwing up.

updated: It’s 4:35 and I’m still awake. This sucks.

updated: I finally went to sleep at 5:50. Too bad it’s a work day.

click here for larger

This weekend has flown by and I feel like I didn’t even get to catch my breath. Ted’s wife, Jen, and I have a monthly “spa day” where we meet up for a massage, mani, and pedi at a new day spa every month. We alternate who picks the new location. Yesterday was the day for this month and it was her turn to pick, so we ended up at the new Urban Retreat in The Woodlands (I picked Tovas last month). I liked the amenities for men at this place much better than the last few spas we visited. Afterwards, I raced to change and meet up with friends for dinner and evening libations. It’s the most time I’ve spent in town (especially downtown) in a long time. I really dig La Carafe… really. I’m surprised I never stopped in before. Another new thing for me was the strawberry basil martini’s at Volcano… and the lichee nut. After waking this morning, I noticed there was a wee bit of sun fighting through the long stretch of rainy skies, so I grabbed the new lens and headed to Sheldon Lake for a trial run. I am not a sweaty guy… but I can’t remember the last time I was so drenched in my own perspiration. Hot mofo indeed today. I have a lot of practice to get under my belt before I’m creating professional quality images with the long glass. A lot of practice.

ps. I took this for Lisa. 

This is awesome. Period.

You know it’s hard out here for a pimp (you ain’t knowin)
When he tryin to get this money for the rent (you ain’t knowin)
For the Cadillacs and gas money spent (you ain’t knowin)
Because a whole lot of bitches talkin shit (you ain’t knowin)

In my eyes I done seen some crazy thangs in the streets
Gotta couple hoes workin on the changes for me
But I gotta keep my game tight like Kobe on game night
Like takin from a ho don’t know no better, I know that ain’t right
Done seen people killed, done seen people deal
Done seen people live in poverty with no meals
It’s fucked up where I live, but that’s just how it is
It might be new to you, but it’s been like this for years
It’s blood sweat and tears when it come down to this shit
I’m tryin to get rich ‘fore I leave up out this bitch
I’m tryin to have thangs but it’s hard fo’ a pimp
But I’m prayin and I’m hopin to God I don’t slip, yeah

You know it’s hard out here for a pimp (you ain’t knowin)
When he tryin to get this money for the rent (you ain’t knowin)
For the Cadillacs and gas money spent (you ain’t knowin)
Will have a whole lot of bitches talkin shit (you ain’t knowin)

Man it seems like I’m duckin dodgin bullets everyday
Niggaz hatin on me cause I got, hoes on the tray
But I gotta stay paid, gotta stay above water
Couldn’t keep up with my hoes, that’s when shit got harder
North Memphis where I’m from, I’m 7th Street bound
Where niggaz all the time end up lost and never found
Man these girls think we prove thangs, leave a big head
They come hopin every night, they don’t end up bein dead
Wait I got a snow bunny, and a black girl too
You pay the right price and they’ll both do you
That’s the way the game goes, gotta keep it strictly pimpin
Gotta have my hustle tight, makin change off these women, yeah

Well, well, well… still not time on the pond with the lens. I got home and saw one of the usual suspects talking trash to the dogs from an overhead limb, so I ran in and grabbed the gear to snap a quick shot. Yes, I’m talking about “the obligatory squirrel test” shot. Right click here and “save target as...” to download a single 100% crop frame saved as a jpeg with zero sharpening. The grain is from shooting at a higher ISO and then saving in a lossful compression format, but I was in a hurry. Pretty sharp optics for shooting from across the yard up into a tree. I’d like to spend some more time with ISO100 creaminess and maybe play with the 1.4x and 2x TC’s a bit this weekend.... weather permitting, of course.

I watched Hustle and Flow last night on BluRay. Great flick. Every time I watch another BD, I feel like I can’t wait for some of my favorites to hit BluRay. I’ve been watching the list in anticipation. 

My long glass came today. After years of longing, it is finally in the proverbial “camera bag”. The new legs are much sturdier than my Explorer series and the Wimberly gimbal is a dream. After you balance each axis by using the mount position to shift the center of gravity, it is virtually on autopilot. You point the lens where you need it to be and the precision balanced head keeps it pointed there… even if no tension is applied to the tilt axis control screw. Fabulous. The glass is tack sharp… stunning… better than I imagined it would/could be. I can’t wait to try it out. I took a little shot with the camera phone after I got the head balanced and was fiddling with it in the backyard. More to follow…

Barrett proposed to Jennifer last night at a small gathering of friends over dinner. It was a fun evening… especially for her. I have been really busy this week with work (hence no update since Monday… good, bad, or indifferent). My lens did not arrive by close of business yesterday despite being in Houston somewhere and I don’t think UPS delivers on the weekend unless you prearranged a special rate. I need to run to Fry’s in a bit, but I’m just trying to wake up right now. I feel like my head is tethered.

This is going to be a long day.

I can’t sleep… or can I? I’ve not tried. I’m not tired and nothing seems to fill the time with any sort of satisfaction. I’m lonely with no one to talk to or hold, but isn’t that cliché? I just finished watching Permanent Midnight via channel surfing and I have to say, I felt an emotional sorrow for Jerry Stahl not unlike that I felt for not Bob Barnes, but America while watching Syriana. Oh, and I still find Elizabeth Hurley extremely attractive for whatever reason… but not in an Adriana Lima/Megan Fox sorta way if you can follow that at all. What was I saying? Ah yes… I’ve always been overtly emotional when it comes to being a man. I’m no lumberjack that finishes the day after an unexpected femur break due to a shift in treefall. I cry during movies, at weddings, during the national anthem when I see the American flag flying… you know, that sort of sappy shit. Not tonight however, I think I was too buzzed an annoyed to find something worth investing in on television. Not that I wanted to get into some sort of developmental trend re: movie styles and whatnot, but I am still, to this moment, fascinated with the cult following of horror films… and I use the word ”horror” extremely loosely. I caught a few minutes of The Devil’s Rejects tonight while trying to settle on something to kill the time and [insert eye roll here] umm… ooookay. I am restless. It’s late and I have all sorts of things to say, but no way of remembering them at this particular juncture. I took my new tat idea to the tattoo parlor this evening to consult the inkers and get feedback. It was beyond their technical prowess and I either need to a) change the layout or b) find higher tech artists. I’m opting for option 2. I found some of the coolest toys online tonight… green lasers that will light matches, burn wood, pop balloons, cut plastic and tape, and all sorts of other virtually useless but utterly cool geeky shit. Wicked Lasers come in a variety of flavors (red, green, blue, etc.) and power outputs up to 300mW. If I didn’t just buy a cars worth of camera shit, I would feel the need to appropriate one of these little gems. May the force be with you.

ps. the slang urban dictionary yields the following definition for “american flag”: when a chick sucks your dick, however, she only sucks the head and for quite some time. this leads to a red head, a white shaft, and blue balls… for example: ”Susan soon realized that giving an american flag to her boyfriend would result in a brutal blow to her face.”

You really should learn something every day.

Have you ever heard the cliché, ”Shit or get off the pot.”?

So tonight, I ordered a Gitzo 5540LS series 5 carbon fiber tripod leg system, a Wimberly WH-200 series II gimbal mount head with an AP-602 lens plate, and a Canon 600mm f/4.0L IS USM super-telephoto lens. I’ve wanted one for as long as I’ve shot SLR’s. I have searched the used market for years on and off… and in recent months, quite intently. I’ve saved and planned for this eventuality, but never had the nerve to follow through. So, tonight, in one click of a mouse, the nearly ten grand worth of glass and carbon fiber that represent the highest quality in optical technology for a 35mm camera system available today will be daintily headed toward me this week in search of their new home. I feel sick at my stomach… and excited at the possibilities… all at the same time.

“kingdoms and queens they all bow down to you,
branches and ranch hands are bowin’ too
and i’ve taken off my straw hat for you, singing
here comes the sun again

the leaves on the trees they all call out your name,
chrome on the freight line shines the same
and the stars in their cars roll their tops down for you singing,
here comes the sun again

oh but if you’re gonna stay show some mercy today
blow a little breeze on my face

snow banks drift down the hillside for you,
slides inside sandy river before the day is through,
and before evenin’ falls i may find myself there too, singing
here comes the sun again” - m. ward

Today was basically me driving. A lot. I tried to sleep in and catch up on much needed rest, but there were little hungry mouths to feed and they weren’t shy about reminding me. The Plumeria Society of America hosted an annual show and sale at the Fort Bend County Fairgrounds today from 11:00 to 3:00. My dear friend, Beth, drove up from Corpus to scout the wares and see if there were any can’t-live-withouts at the show. Having not seen her in a far too long, I was excited to get to drive down to Rosenberg and join her for lunch. After lunch, she headed back to the coast and I went home to tend to The Peanut and gang before meeting Barrett and Jennifer’s birthday party at Café Adobe for an early dinner. I wasn’t too hungry after the late lunch, but a good time was had by all. After the singing and traditional birthday schtuff, we all walked over to Jillian’s (it’s like a Dave and Busters) for bowling and drinks (in no particular order). I typically hate these places, but with a little whiskey, I managed. There was a long wait for a lane, so we all visited some more at the bar. I wasn’t eager to stick my feet in the public rental shoes, so I drifted out while they hit the pins. I stopped by a new coffee shop/gallery named Full Throttle off Louetta on my way home to check out an acoustic singer/songwriter named Lanky. It’s a pretty hip place even if still getting its sea-legs.  Speaking of new artists, check out M. Ward… he opened for Norah Jones and is a talented cat. I have a whole lot of nothin’ planed for mañana and I can’t wait to get it all done. Time to make a warm spot in my big, cold bed. Bon nuit.

After a grueling day yesterday, I stopped for a mani/pedi and then I met Scott for happy hour at the Armadillo Palace off Kirby. It was only my second time there and ironically, the first time was also with him. We talked a lot of shop before Georgia and her friends showed up followed by Barrett and Andy. I have to say that they serve some of the best restaurant nachos I’ve had in a long time. Yum. I don’t know what my deal is recently, but I’ve been on this nacho kick. “It’s nacho cheese! It’s nacho cheese!” After a couple of hours, Scott claimed he needed to go home, so we all started to leave. I announced that I was stopping at Blanco’s Bar and Grill to see my old friends and coworkers because I knew they’d be hanging out there last night. Next thing I know, Barret, Andy, and had-to-go-home-Scott were all there with me. Joe, Dirk, John, and Andy (different Andy) as well as a gaggle of familiar faces from my old Blanco’s days were there sucking on barley pops. The place was packed, but it just kept getting busier and busier. By the time I left… much too late… it was more crowded than I’d ever seen it in all the years I’d been visiting from time to time. The only thing more amazing than the density of the crowd was that 70-ish percent of them were women and you had to really struggle to find one that was unattractive. What was this place? Where was my old, quiet, hidden gem of a icehouse? It had been invaded by second gen yuppies. Oh well, everything changes I suppose. Scott and I were the last to leave. Barrett lives close to midtown, so I stopped at his flat for some liver processing time before eventually driving home around 3:45 in the morning. Needless to say, I was hurting this morning. It wasn’t really a hang over as much as it was my body being pissed off at me for getting up and driving into the office on such little sleep. Recovery time exponentially increases with age. Indeed. Anyhoo, I was fortunate that one of my afternoon meetings canceled on me due to an unexpected delivery. One of the key participants apparently had a wife that leaked a baby, so I got to drive back to the home office and finish out the day working with bare wiggly toes in shorts instead of prim and proper business attire. Yay me. Now that the work day is over and the weekend is here, I need to catch up on R&R. I’ll let you know how that works out. 

“Freedom is the right of all sentient beings.” - Optimus Prime

Long week that keeps dragging, it is. To prevent further undue stress, I’m typing this post in OpenOffice with plans to cut and paste in a few minutes when I virtually pass out from exhaustion. Doing my boss’s job while he’s on sabbatical isn’t as intense as I’d built it up to be… it’s doing his job on top of my job that has been challenging. My Exchange calendar looks like someone shot it with multicolored paintballs from a fully automatic rifle. My cell phone battery won’t make it through a single business day. I know I have my finger on the pulse of every little thing and I’m on top of it, but at night, when I try to wind down for some recharge, I feel like something slipped through the cracks. I went back to the gym yesterday. I’ve been trying to motivate a friend of mine to get in shape, so I thought setting a good fitness example would be as good an excuse as any for me to pay the sweat factory a visit. My back is in knots and I need a massage. Outside of juggling at the office, I haven’t done much. I went to see Transformers tonight and really enjoyed it. I shipped a package overseas this afternoon and was floored by the price gouging on international parcel delivery. I’m in the wrong business. I had plans to head to the coast this weekend for some sand between the toes, but remembered it was Barrett’s girlfriend’s birthday and I’d pseudo-RSVP’d previously. I’m looking forward to the weekend downtime. Trying to sleep through Yorkie kisses after late night libations with friends. I had a moment today. A few months ago, my friend and neighbor, Sam, invited me over for a backyard bar-b-que. His family was hosting some other folks as well… one being a coworker, his wife, and two children. The man I’d met before on a few occasions (all in a business environment), but the wife and kids were new to me. One of the two children, a small boy, was autistic, but other than that, they were a very normal, happy, loving family of near spot on the 1.9 kids per family average in Texas (or whatever it’s become since the last time that useless knowledge invaded my brain with Superglue). A few days back, this mother of two was apparently playing with the kids at the playground and scratched her leg on the slide. The scratch got infected and she went to the doctor. The doctor (unknowingly mis-)diagnosed the infection as some normal plain-Jane playground dirt infection and not the ravenous staff it would and sent her home. 24 hours later, yesterday, she was dead. I don’t know how the doctor misdiagnosed such a thing, nor do I know how her rapidly declining condition was met with helplessness at the hospital. I do know that the beautiful family unit I met a couple of months ago is no more… a father of two (one with special needs) with a full time career is now a widower single dad that has to figure it all out without his mate. So back to the moment… Today, when I heard the news that his wife died just yesterday, for just a brief moment, I was completely vacant. Nothing. Like… “and what? So, you want a cookie? Shit happens.” /sigh It didn’t last long and I soon felt his pain as if it were my own. I felt my own pain ebb back from the numb little pocket I put it in when I have to deal with RealLife™ like work or other humans. I know. I’ve survived that moment… even if barely. I’ve become acutely aware of our fragile mortality over the last year and some change. Without conscious effort, I pay close attention to all sorts of human conditions that were white noise in the ambiance before that day. Interesting vignette along a voyage of self discovery, if nothing but a moment. My brain skips tracks on vinyl when I grow weary. Annoying to read, but quite delightful to type… like blogging with ADD.... so as I was saying… look! Oooh, shiiiiiney.

“No, no, no, no! Come, let’s away to prison:
We two alone will sing like birds i’ the cage:
When thou dost ask me blessing, I’ll kneel down,
And ask of thee forgiveness: so we’ll live,
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
Talk of court news; and we’ll talk with them too,
Who loses and who wins; who’s in, who’s out;
And take upon’s the mystery of things,
As if we were God’s spies: and we’ll wear out,
In a wall’d prison, packs and sects of great ones,
That ebb and flow by the moon.” - King Lear

Niters.

I typed several paragraphs of poo here not even 5 minutes ago. I spoke of my evening and the day leading up to it… who I went out with for dinner and what transpired. How I ended up home instead of in jail, etc. It was all here. Then, in a swift click of a mouse button (the wrong fucking button), it all went away. Gone.

I’m tired and don’t have the patience to attempt to recreate that shit. Even if I could, I would know it wasn’t the original stream of thought… hence, I’m going to bed.

Sorry.

ps. happy 7-7-7