For my birthday, my Mummy treated me to a spa day. She said she wanted to get her hair done in that Fancy Place I go to (it's really not so fancy, but they use fabulous products), and that for my birthday she wanted me to come too to get my hair done, or a massage, or whatever.
I had my hair highlighted once, and while I loved how it looked, I am terrible at keeping things like that up, so I thought that wasn't the best choice. I was in need of a haircut, though, so I hopped on that one. Mummy said she wanted me to pick something else too.
A massage, while nice, isn't practical since we have them covered in our health insurance - in retrospect it would have been a bad idea to get all relaxed up and then get the phone call that our Jetta had died. I don't get manicures because I bite my nails and pick at the skin around, and it's just never going to get better. Putting a little paint on there to highlight my red fingers is just isn't pretty.
And while I HATE feet and hate having mine touched, it is theoretically sandal season, so I went with a pedicure.
I've only ever had one pedicure prior to this one, and while it was okay, it wasn't life changing and I could never justify spending my own cash on getting one (it had been a gift). I had gone to another, reputable spa to get it, and so I assumed that that was it. Just ho-hum. They had paraffined me and scraped and massaged and painted, but it just was so so.
But my Birthday Pedicure was oh so fabulous. She soaked my feet, then rubbed them with an exfoliant, then she razored them (sounds scary, but is so not scary), and then, I shit you not, she Dremel-ed my feet. A real Dremel tool, that said Dremel on the side and everything, with a little foot-Dremel attachment. And then all the lotion and polish and stuff.
Two weeks later and my feet are JUST starting to get all dry again. I wonder how we can get pedicures included in our medical insurance?
Monday, July 30, 2007
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
VDC strikes again
Actually, VDC has been quite good these past few days. He's becoming more used to us, so he will actually chance it and wander into the hallway before hissing and spitting at us. This morning I arrived along with one of our employees, and while she was preparing the injection, I was shooing him out from under the bed.
The bed has a wooden frame, but it's a platform bed, so it's not very tall, as there is no boxed spring. I have moved this bed twice a day for the past week or so, but for some reason today when I pushed it (knees bent, both hands), I twisted in a weird way and totally wrenched my back. My lower back so of course now it hurts to stand and sit and stuff. VDC is ruining my life. And I don't even want to sit with the heating pad because it's so bloody hot outside anyway, and I feel like it would be dumb to be sitting inside, in the A/C, heating up my back.
I just finished reading Suite Francaise by Irene Nemirovsky, and I have to say that it was quite enjoyable. I really love her writing style, and I wish she had been able to finish it. If you are looking for something to read this summer that is not too fluffy, I would suggest this book. I was a bit worried because I had just read Night by Elie Wiesel, and wasn't sure I really wanted to read another book about WWII, since Night is pretty depressing. But Suite Francaise is about the German occupation of France, which I had never read anything about, and it was about how different people dealt with it, all through the social classes.
In other summer news, our pepper and tomato plants are slowly producing fruits. I took two orange cherry tomatoes off one this morning, and two super-hot peppers off another. I'm not sure why we got so many hot pepper plants - I don't even think we'll eat them. But the little tomatoes taste SOOOO good! Too bad we only get like two tomatoes every three weeks.
The bed has a wooden frame, but it's a platform bed, so it's not very tall, as there is no boxed spring. I have moved this bed twice a day for the past week or so, but for some reason today when I pushed it (knees bent, both hands), I twisted in a weird way and totally wrenched my back. My lower back so of course now it hurts to stand and sit and stuff. VDC is ruining my life. And I don't even want to sit with the heating pad because it's so bloody hot outside anyway, and I feel like it would be dumb to be sitting inside, in the A/C, heating up my back.
I just finished reading Suite Francaise by Irene Nemirovsky, and I have to say that it was quite enjoyable. I really love her writing style, and I wish she had been able to finish it. If you are looking for something to read this summer that is not too fluffy, I would suggest this book. I was a bit worried because I had just read Night by Elie Wiesel, and wasn't sure I really wanted to read another book about WWII, since Night is pretty depressing. But Suite Francaise is about the German occupation of France, which I had never read anything about, and it was about how different people dealt with it, all through the social classes.
In other summer news, our pepper and tomato plants are slowly producing fruits. I took two orange cherry tomatoes off one this morning, and two super-hot peppers off another. I'm not sure why we got so many hot pepper plants - I don't even think we'll eat them. But the little tomatoes taste SOOOO good! Too bad we only get like two tomatoes every three weeks.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Like a Kitty Cat Rodeo
We have come upon a case of a Very Difficult Cat. This cat hates us. When we enter the apartment he hides, and if we try to dig him out of hiding he hisses and spits and growls and yowls.
This is not new for us - we take care of loads of nasty cats. I don't know what causes their attitude problems, and I don't know if they behave this way when their parents are at home, but we have lots of cats that hate us. We just feed them, clean their litter, check their plants, ignore the kitty and get the heck out of there. Once I was even cornered by a cat. He chased me into the bathroom, wherein I slammed the door in his face and promptly scooted out the door to the master bedroom.
But the Very Difficult Cat, you see, he needs the insulin. The insulin for the food processing and the living. So we can't ignore Very Difficult Cat because if we did, he would probably die. Or at the very least go into some kind of coma. (SB suggested it might not be so bad to let him go into the coma - at least then we could touch him without losing part of our arm). When I met VDC for the first time, his owner gave him his shot very quickly, after sneaking up on him, but then he was just a normal lovable cat. He let me pet him and everything. But now, as soon as he hears us coming up the stairs he hides. And then we have to dig Very Difficult Kitty out of his hiding spot, while trying not to lose an eye (we have at least purchased some protective gloves, because that first day was hard on my arm....) and inject him with his insulin. This is a two-man job. On the weekend SB helped me, and it was quite an experience, which I will describe at a later date.
Every visit (twice a day) as we go up the stairs, I ask SB "Do you want to wrangle or shoot?" He generally would say wrangle, and then after donning the gloves and preparing the Blanket of Terror (we lay it over kitty as a gentle restraint, but when he sees it coming he tries to kill it), he says, "aaah, I think I wanna shoot." And then we have to switch, and VDC gets all worked up while waiting for us to kill him, aka give him life-prolonging insulin. Generally he will pee at us as a last line of defense. Awesome.
All of this makes me think of how we would be as parents. I think we make a pretty great team - poo makes me vomit, but SB seems okay with it. I don't mind being bitten or scratched, and SB has a winning smile. I picture us trying to change a diaper on a squirmy toddler. Me gagging, SB trying to grab the feet. I think we have good instincts, but may have to fine-tune our technique a little. Hopefully we could teach a kid not to hide behind the toilet when it's time for their Triaminic.
This is not new for us - we take care of loads of nasty cats. I don't know what causes their attitude problems, and I don't know if they behave this way when their parents are at home, but we have lots of cats that hate us. We just feed them, clean their litter, check their plants, ignore the kitty and get the heck out of there. Once I was even cornered by a cat. He chased me into the bathroom, wherein I slammed the door in his face and promptly scooted out the door to the master bedroom.
But the Very Difficult Cat, you see, he needs the insulin. The insulin for the food processing and the living. So we can't ignore Very Difficult Cat because if we did, he would probably die. Or at the very least go into some kind of coma. (SB suggested it might not be so bad to let him go into the coma - at least then we could touch him without losing part of our arm). When I met VDC for the first time, his owner gave him his shot very quickly, after sneaking up on him, but then he was just a normal lovable cat. He let me pet him and everything. But now, as soon as he hears us coming up the stairs he hides. And then we have to dig Very Difficult Kitty out of his hiding spot, while trying not to lose an eye (we have at least purchased some protective gloves, because that first day was hard on my arm....) and inject him with his insulin. This is a two-man job. On the weekend SB helped me, and it was quite an experience, which I will describe at a later date.
Every visit (twice a day) as we go up the stairs, I ask SB "Do you want to wrangle or shoot?" He generally would say wrangle, and then after donning the gloves and preparing the Blanket of Terror (we lay it over kitty as a gentle restraint, but when he sees it coming he tries to kill it), he says, "aaah, I think I wanna shoot." And then we have to switch, and VDC gets all worked up while waiting for us to kill him, aka give him life-prolonging insulin. Generally he will pee at us as a last line of defense. Awesome.
All of this makes me think of how we would be as parents. I think we make a pretty great team - poo makes me vomit, but SB seems okay with it. I don't mind being bitten or scratched, and SB has a winning smile. I picture us trying to change a diaper on a squirmy toddler. Me gagging, SB trying to grab the feet. I think we have good instincts, but may have to fine-tune our technique a little. Hopefully we could teach a kid not to hide behind the toilet when it's time for their Triaminic.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
For what may have been...
I'm not sure if this is true for everyone, but I have always had a few guys in my past who I have thought of with warmth, and always wondered "what would have happened if I'd ended up with him?" All great guys, all were great friends at the time, always had that little extra something between us, but the timing was never right, or whatever, and nothing ever happened. Or in some cases nothing much ever happened.
For me, there were probably less than a handful of guys who fit this criteria. Met them all in high school while I was in a relationship, we spents loads of time together in different capacities, and I have always wondered what would have happened.
Through the magic of The Internets, or more specifically, Facebook, these doors are slowly closing.
One boy seems to be a perpetual drifter - still just out there for the good times and not really that serious about much of anything. He still looks great, so that's a bonus, but I think I now require a little more character and go-getterism than I used to.
Another boy's looks have changed - not for the better. Now, I know no one is going to look like they did in high school, and I'm especially sensitive to The Weight Gain, as I have admittedly packed on more than a few since 1997. But this boy went in the opposite direction. He used to be cute, wasn't a big guy, but had great hair and a great smile. Now he looks like a heroine addict. Maybe he is.... And his hair is shaved off. Unless he's an actor with a part in Schindler's List, I think that daydream is done.
There are still a few who are not on Facebook, and although I would love to know what they're up to, I kinda hope they don't join. Because when I mentioned this decline in my long-lost possibilities, SB said, "well, I guess you're just going to have to learn that this is the best you're gonna get. You're stuck with me."
Yes, I guess that's what this means.
For me, there were probably less than a handful of guys who fit this criteria. Met them all in high school while I was in a relationship, we spents loads of time together in different capacities, and I have always wondered what would have happened.
Through the magic of The Internets, or more specifically, Facebook, these doors are slowly closing.
One boy seems to be a perpetual drifter - still just out there for the good times and not really that serious about much of anything. He still looks great, so that's a bonus, but I think I now require a little more character and go-getterism than I used to.
Another boy's looks have changed - not for the better. Now, I know no one is going to look like they did in high school, and I'm especially sensitive to The Weight Gain, as I have admittedly packed on more than a few since 1997. But this boy went in the opposite direction. He used to be cute, wasn't a big guy, but had great hair and a great smile. Now he looks like a heroine addict. Maybe he is.... And his hair is shaved off. Unless he's an actor with a part in Schindler's List, I think that daydream is done.
There are still a few who are not on Facebook, and although I would love to know what they're up to, I kinda hope they don't join. Because when I mentioned this decline in my long-lost possibilities, SB said, "well, I guess you're just going to have to learn that this is the best you're gonna get. You're stuck with me."
Yes, I guess that's what this means.
Thursday, July 19, 2007
One thing to smile about.
One super fun thing that happened last week that I forgot to mention - my Mummy brought SB and I some super yummy lobster! We had a fabulous feast on Thursday evening, and it was AWESOME.
When I was little, I would only eat the "Little Legs" of the lobster - I liked to squish the meat out using my teeth. Then I graduated to eating those and claws, when they were properly cracked for me. I eventually was able to crack them myself. A few years ago I got over my phobia of eating the tail - the digestive tract runs along the top of the tail, and I was always terrified I would accidentally eat part of it and die. But now I am confident in my poop-peeling ability.
I still refuse to eat anything in the body/head of the lobster. SB tried to get me to dig into the meat on the side of the "ribs", but I kept getting these crunchy parts which really skeeved me. And don't get me started on the gross green stuff. Once I got all crazy and tried the red eggs, but quickly spit them out. So dry and gross they remind me of peas, which I HATE. Not that they taste like peas, but the texture is close.
I remembered the lobster feast this morning, and smiled. But I remembered it because I scratched my hands up breaking open the tail. And that memory was triggered by the fact that I spent the morning trying to give an insulin injection to a pissed off cat, who then scratched up my entire arm and hand, then shit in the closet.
I'm not loving my job so much this week.
When I was little, I would only eat the "Little Legs" of the lobster - I liked to squish the meat out using my teeth. Then I graduated to eating those and claws, when they were properly cracked for me. I eventually was able to crack them myself. A few years ago I got over my phobia of eating the tail - the digestive tract runs along the top of the tail, and I was always terrified I would accidentally eat part of it and die. But now I am confident in my poop-peeling ability.
I still refuse to eat anything in the body/head of the lobster. SB tried to get me to dig into the meat on the side of the "ribs", but I kept getting these crunchy parts which really skeeved me. And don't get me started on the gross green stuff. Once I got all crazy and tried the red eggs, but quickly spit them out. So dry and gross they remind me of peas, which I HATE. Not that they taste like peas, but the texture is close.
I remembered the lobster feast this morning, and smiled. But I remembered it because I scratched my hands up breaking open the tail. And that memory was triggered by the fact that I spent the morning trying to give an insulin injection to a pissed off cat, who then scratched up my entire arm and hand, then shit in the closet.
I'm not loving my job so much this week.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
and my head is still spinning...
well, what a week it has been, people. You can't even begin to imagine.
Last Wednesday, my Mummy arrived. Planned trip, that I had been quite looking forward to. I knew that I couldn't take time off, but that I could lighten my schedule a little. SB's parents had just left on Sunday, so we had two days to clean the house up a bit, and take care of the laundry and other stuff that had been dragging a bit while they were here.
We picked Mummy up Wednesday, brought her here to show her the new digs, and had a nice quiet evening in. Thursday she came with me while I walked my group, and we had another relaxing day.
Friday, we had booked a spa afternoon - she wanted to get her hair cut and colored, and wanted to get me a pedicure and haircut for my birthday. In the morning we did a few errands with SB, and on our way back home we got a call from one of our employees who we had sent to the mechanics for a check up of our Subaru. Huh, guess what? Subaru is dead. Some kind of fuel line problem that is expensive to fix, but that makes the car unsafe to drive. Huh. So, we go home, and SB meets her at the shop and gives her the Jetta, which has had a touchy transmission lately, but we hadn't been able to book it to be fixed, and SB has been driving it just fine.
Mummy and I leave for the spa - I asked SB if he would like to drive us so he can have the truck in case he needs it, but he says no. I leave him my cell phone, and ask him if he wants me to bring his in case he needs to reach me for something. He says no.
I have a great time with my hairdresser, talking about paint color choices, and other decorating stuff since she just moved as well. My pedicure is amazing, and the lady is halfway done applying polish when some other lady asks if I am me, then says I should call my boyfriend when I can. I immediately tense up, and the girl is still putting the applicator back in the bottle while I'm halfway out the door to find my Mummy and her phone.
Ya, so the Jetta died.
Died, like wouldn't run and had to be towed. SB had to bike over the mountain to get to the employee and the car so that we could use our Roadside assistance to tow it. So we have to start worrying about a game plan to get the Jetta fixed, and also be sure that our employee had a car. (Ultimately, we've decided to have the business buy the Jetta, and will use it as a doggy mobile. SB won't have a car for now. I think he's hating that already and it's been two days)
Saturday was my birthday, and Mummy and I spent the morning shopping at a street sale which was fun, except that my phone kept ringing every five seconds with either problems from our weekend employee or a client who I had "made myself available" for, and by "made myself available" I guess he thought that meant answer thirty phone calls in a day to get his travel status for his trip back to the city. We went home and had some downtime, and I thought I might have time for a little nap before dinner, but then the weekend girl called because she couldn't get into an apartment. I rushed over to see what the problem was and was able to get in in 2.7 seconds.
We arrived at dinner at 6:10 and were told it would be a three hour wait for our table of 8. I know that large parties are annoying for restaurants on a busy night. I know it's hard to estimate how long it will take. But people, if you don't take reservations, you need a better system than telling everyone "It'll be three hours" and hoping they walk out. I was almost in tears. This is my favorite restaurant, and my friends were on their way for 7 (in Emma-speak, though, that's 7:30-8), and it's my birthday and nothing is going right. Luckily, our favorite hostess was working, but just in the back, and she saw me and said she would look into it. We were seated at around 8:15 (**yes, I know, it's still 2 hours, but the rest of our party didn't arrive until about 8, so that's cool)
I don't even remember what we did on sunday right now. I think it was probably pretty fun. Or at least nothing broke that day.
Monday, started well, Mummy's last full day in town, so I tried to get all my work done in the morning so we could hang out later on. We picked up a rental car, since our employee was using our truck, and all the other cars are dead or dying. SB gets the Jetta to our mechanic so he can start repairing it. Get an email that my weekend girl is quitting.
We finished up Mummy's visit with a fun trip to the old Port for a nice dinner and caught a few Buskers.
So to recap:
1. Two cars died on Friday the 13th.
2. My birthday was almost a bust.
3. We lose another employee, albeit she has given us four weeks' notice, so hopefully we can make it work.
4. Poor Mummy barely had any fun her whole vacation.
5. Poor SB barely had any fun on his whole vacation - he's been "off" for two weeks - one of which his parents were here and he worked on the condo with his dad, some projects he had been planning. The second of which....he still wasn't done all the condo projects. And then two cars died. and then when he finally went back to work, he had to take the metro.
Ya, I think that's it. I think I should play the lotto this week, because good luck better be coming soon....
Last Wednesday, my Mummy arrived. Planned trip, that I had been quite looking forward to. I knew that I couldn't take time off, but that I could lighten my schedule a little. SB's parents had just left on Sunday, so we had two days to clean the house up a bit, and take care of the laundry and other stuff that had been dragging a bit while they were here.
We picked Mummy up Wednesday, brought her here to show her the new digs, and had a nice quiet evening in. Thursday she came with me while I walked my group, and we had another relaxing day.
Friday, we had booked a spa afternoon - she wanted to get her hair cut and colored, and wanted to get me a pedicure and haircut for my birthday. In the morning we did a few errands with SB, and on our way back home we got a call from one of our employees who we had sent to the mechanics for a check up of our Subaru. Huh, guess what? Subaru is dead. Some kind of fuel line problem that is expensive to fix, but that makes the car unsafe to drive. Huh. So, we go home, and SB meets her at the shop and gives her the Jetta, which has had a touchy transmission lately, but we hadn't been able to book it to be fixed, and SB has been driving it just fine.
Mummy and I leave for the spa - I asked SB if he would like to drive us so he can have the truck in case he needs it, but he says no. I leave him my cell phone, and ask him if he wants me to bring his in case he needs to reach me for something. He says no.
I have a great time with my hairdresser, talking about paint color choices, and other decorating stuff since she just moved as well. My pedicure is amazing, and the lady is halfway done applying polish when some other lady asks if I am me, then says I should call my boyfriend when I can. I immediately tense up, and the girl is still putting the applicator back in the bottle while I'm halfway out the door to find my Mummy and her phone.
Ya, so the Jetta died.
Died, like wouldn't run and had to be towed. SB had to bike over the mountain to get to the employee and the car so that we could use our Roadside assistance to tow it. So we have to start worrying about a game plan to get the Jetta fixed, and also be sure that our employee had a car. (Ultimately, we've decided to have the business buy the Jetta, and will use it as a doggy mobile. SB won't have a car for now. I think he's hating that already and it's been two days)
Saturday was my birthday, and Mummy and I spent the morning shopping at a street sale which was fun, except that my phone kept ringing every five seconds with either problems from our weekend employee or a client who I had "made myself available" for, and by "made myself available" I guess he thought that meant answer thirty phone calls in a day to get his travel status for his trip back to the city. We went home and had some downtime, and I thought I might have time for a little nap before dinner, but then the weekend girl called because she couldn't get into an apartment. I rushed over to see what the problem was and was able to get in in 2.7 seconds.
We arrived at dinner at 6:10 and were told it would be a three hour wait for our table of 8. I know that large parties are annoying for restaurants on a busy night. I know it's hard to estimate how long it will take. But people, if you don't take reservations, you need a better system than telling everyone "It'll be three hours" and hoping they walk out. I was almost in tears. This is my favorite restaurant, and my friends were on their way for 7 (in Emma-speak, though, that's 7:30-8), and it's my birthday and nothing is going right. Luckily, our favorite hostess was working, but just in the back, and she saw me and said she would look into it. We were seated at around 8:15 (**yes, I know, it's still 2 hours, but the rest of our party didn't arrive until about 8, so that's cool)
I don't even remember what we did on sunday right now. I think it was probably pretty fun. Or at least nothing broke that day.
Monday, started well, Mummy's last full day in town, so I tried to get all my work done in the morning so we could hang out later on. We picked up a rental car, since our employee was using our truck, and all the other cars are dead or dying. SB gets the Jetta to our mechanic so he can start repairing it. Get an email that my weekend girl is quitting.
We finished up Mummy's visit with a fun trip to the old Port for a nice dinner and caught a few Buskers.
So to recap:
1. Two cars died on Friday the 13th.
2. My birthday was almost a bust.
3. We lose another employee, albeit she has given us four weeks' notice, so hopefully we can make it work.
4. Poor Mummy barely had any fun her whole vacation.
5. Poor SB barely had any fun on his whole vacation - he's been "off" for two weeks - one of which his parents were here and he worked on the condo with his dad, some projects he had been planning. The second of which....he still wasn't done all the condo projects. And then two cars died. and then when he finally went back to work, he had to take the metro.
Ya, I think that's it. I think I should play the lotto this week, because good luck better be coming soon....
Monday, July 09, 2007
Wherein I beg someone to buy be something
In the past I have begged for a Nikon D40x. It is a digital SLR camera. A pretty basic model, but the key here is that it is a)an SLR and b)digital.
In 2000, I bought myself a 35mm SLR for Christmas. It was the first time I ever spent a ridicuous amount of money on anything for myself, and I fell in love with that camera. I took photos of everything, and learned a lot about the technicalities of photography - how do use aperture and shutter speeds to get the look you want. Then I had a crash course in developing black and whites, and fell completely in love with the whole deal. I took my camera to Europe with me and shot about 20 rolls of film, hauled them back, paid for developing, and absolutely loved about 90% of the shots I took.
Then came the digital age. No more economy of shots, no more lugging around of film, no more waiting in line at the photo counter. Just pictures pictures pictures. My mom bought us our first, fabulous digital camera which took great photos, and had lots of fabulous options. Then it got stolen. Then we replaced it with something similar. And it was equally great and convenient and the pictures, they were there, on the computer. Ready for uploading and the photoshop, if either of us were photoshop savvy. For a point and shoot, both of these digitals have treated us very well, and given us some really great results.
But yesterday I broke out the old 35mm SLR. Even just looking through the lens, I can see the difference. I snapped out 11 whole photos before I started worrying that I was taking too many and put it away for another day. And I just know that when I finish the film, and find a photo developing place that's close, and wait in line, and deposit the film, and then drive back an hour later and pick up the photos and CD (because really, all I want is the CD so I can UPLOAD), I know that those are gonna be amazing photos.
But you know what would be even more amazing? If I had taken them with a Nikon D40x and was able to upload them 10 seconds after taking them. And was able to erase the bad ones from history immediately. And could take as many photos as I wanted and not have to pay to develop them if I didn't want. Ever.
please please please please please buy me a Nikon D40x. Or even a D40.
In 2000, I bought myself a 35mm SLR for Christmas. It was the first time I ever spent a ridicuous amount of money on anything for myself, and I fell in love with that camera. I took photos of everything, and learned a lot about the technicalities of photography - how do use aperture and shutter speeds to get the look you want. Then I had a crash course in developing black and whites, and fell completely in love with the whole deal. I took my camera to Europe with me and shot about 20 rolls of film, hauled them back, paid for developing, and absolutely loved about 90% of the shots I took.
Then came the digital age. No more economy of shots, no more lugging around of film, no more waiting in line at the photo counter. Just pictures pictures pictures. My mom bought us our first, fabulous digital camera which took great photos, and had lots of fabulous options. Then it got stolen. Then we replaced it with something similar. And it was equally great and convenient and the pictures, they were there, on the computer. Ready for uploading and the photoshop, if either of us were photoshop savvy. For a point and shoot, both of these digitals have treated us very well, and given us some really great results.
But yesterday I broke out the old 35mm SLR. Even just looking through the lens, I can see the difference. I snapped out 11 whole photos before I started worrying that I was taking too many and put it away for another day. And I just know that when I finish the film, and find a photo developing place that's close, and wait in line, and deposit the film, and then drive back an hour later and pick up the photos and CD (because really, all I want is the CD so I can UPLOAD), I know that those are gonna be amazing photos.
But you know what would be even more amazing? If I had taken them with a Nikon D40x and was able to upload them 10 seconds after taking them. And was able to erase the bad ones from history immediately. And could take as many photos as I wanted and not have to pay to develop them if I didn't want. Ever.
please please please please please buy me a Nikon D40x. Or even a D40.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
I saw The White Stripes last night!!!
They still amaze me!
They started their set super hardcore with Blue Orchid, then Icky Thump, then after that it was all a blur. I remember some Cold Cold Night, We're Gonna Be Friends, hints of I Think I Smell a Rat, Black Math (my favorite WS song EVER). Their encore was Hardest Button, I Just Don't Know What to Do With Myself, and Seven Nation.
I know last time I saw them I retracted my professed love of Jack White, and professed my undying love for Meg. But I take that back again. He's hot people. Just accept it. Of course last time he had a crusty mustache (the Crustache), so it took away some of the appeal. And while Meg is certainly quite an attractive little lady with amazing arms and boobs, sometimes while she's drumming her drums, her hair covers her face and she reminds me of the chick from The Ring.
I must also say that Jack White must be an extraordinary lover. At least, if his seduction of a crowd is any indication. He teases with a few bars of one song, then swings you into another one until you forget what he had worked you up to because what came next was so great. He did this a lot with I Think I Smell a Rat. They also did this extremely hot drum sequence at the end where Jack set aside his guitars, got behind Meg and pounded away (at the drums, you dirty people), but was kinda nuzzling her neck. Hot. They took extra long to come out for the encore, and I'm pretty sure it's because they were making out. Okay, probably not, but that's what I was imagining was going on.
I promptly came home and made sure my sister was able to get tickets for their show this week in Moncton. She cannot miss them.
If you want to see photos and some crappy video, and you are my friend, go check out my facebook page.
They started their set super hardcore with Blue Orchid, then Icky Thump, then after that it was all a blur. I remember some Cold Cold Night, We're Gonna Be Friends, hints of I Think I Smell a Rat, Black Math (my favorite WS song EVER). Their encore was Hardest Button, I Just Don't Know What to Do With Myself, and Seven Nation.
I know last time I saw them I retracted my professed love of Jack White, and professed my undying love for Meg. But I take that back again. He's hot people. Just accept it. Of course last time he had a crusty mustache (the Crustache), so it took away some of the appeal. And while Meg is certainly quite an attractive little lady with amazing arms and boobs, sometimes while she's drumming her drums, her hair covers her face and she reminds me of the chick from The Ring.
I must also say that Jack White must be an extraordinary lover. At least, if his seduction of a crowd is any indication. He teases with a few bars of one song, then swings you into another one until you forget what he had worked you up to because what came next was so great. He did this a lot with I Think I Smell a Rat. They also did this extremely hot drum sequence at the end where Jack set aside his guitars, got behind Meg and pounded away (at the drums, you dirty people), but was kinda nuzzling her neck. Hot. They took extra long to come out for the encore, and I'm pretty sure it's because they were making out. Okay, probably not, but that's what I was imagining was going on.
I promptly came home and made sure my sister was able to get tickets for their show this week in Moncton. She cannot miss them.
If you want to see photos and some crappy video, and you are my friend, go check out my facebook page.
Thursday, July 05, 2007
In desperate need of a day off
So, I'm tired. Almost burned out, I would say. And not that I've even probably been working THAT hard, but it's just like a ten times faster pace than I'm used to, for like ten times more days in a row than I'm used to. But I'm still tired.
The in-laws are visiting this week, and then my Mummy comes next week (yaY!). In a week it's my birthday, so I'm pretty excited Mummy will be here to meet my friends when we go for dinner. Tomorrow night is the White Stripes concert (WOOHOOOOOOO!!!), and next Tuesday we're seeing Tool (I bought SB tickets for his birthday).
Work was pretty busy there for a few weeks, but now we are back to full-staff, so it's a bit smoother. Except for one pesky client who is being REALLY annoying. They always surface at the most annoying times.
The condo is still coming together - SB is going to put up the chair rail in the dining room tomorrow, we have to finish painting the kitchen, and then we need to buy our furniture. We have picked out a dining set, but we are still completely unsure about which sofa style we want, what color is best, etc.
My first day off in two weeks will be on Saturday, so I'm pretty stoked about that.
Ooh, and I ordered books from Chapters on Friday and they arrived today - not bad considering there was a holiday in there. I love ecommerce.
The in-laws are visiting this week, and then my Mummy comes next week (yaY!). In a week it's my birthday, so I'm pretty excited Mummy will be here to meet my friends when we go for dinner. Tomorrow night is the White Stripes concert (WOOHOOOOOOO!!!), and next Tuesday we're seeing Tool (I bought SB tickets for his birthday).
Work was pretty busy there for a few weeks, but now we are back to full-staff, so it's a bit smoother. Except for one pesky client who is being REALLY annoying. They always surface at the most annoying times.
The condo is still coming together - SB is going to put up the chair rail in the dining room tomorrow, we have to finish painting the kitchen, and then we need to buy our furniture. We have picked out a dining set, but we are still completely unsure about which sofa style we want, what color is best, etc.
My first day off in two weeks will be on Saturday, so I'm pretty stoked about that.
Ooh, and I ordered books from Chapters on Friday and they arrived today - not bad considering there was a holiday in there. I love ecommerce.
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