baby love

It was one of those perfect weekends...you know the kind where you didn't do a lot but then you did oh so very much. I took lots of pictures but they were all family.

these are my favorites:

Stevie's got nothing on me

I'm light-headed and drunk on a caffeine overdose - I've had the gamut this morning: soda, coffee and tea. I can't seem to stop drinking even though I feel as if my helium filled brain will float away leaving me abandoned in this black hulk of my office chair. Everything has this pink hazed look of soft focus and I can't seem to pull my thoughts into any coherent order.

I need to finish up some projects as I'm taking a day off for a change. But....words look like jumbles and papers seem to dance just beyond my fingertips. Is there a cure for this or do I have to ride this tide of jitters and a slightly numb tip of my nose?

Maybe they should clear the stage because I feel a chorus of "Born Free" breaking loose in my chest, elbowing and shoving to get to the surface. And then I blush....I'm a really suck-ass singer as anyone in my family will tell you. I bellow like a wounded moose and my dancing these days looks more like the death throes of some headless chicken. But, sometimes we need that spastic release of shame - the un-rhythmic dervish twirls and Fleetwood's off beat pound of our internal drum.

Only then will I hide back in my office....refusing to show my face and getting back to work. It's only moments away.

nothing much I thought

I thought I had something to say....but it turns out I didn't really. Thoughts seem to be this twisted jumble of wire and synapses misfiring and looping with no clear pattern or terminal destination. I sat outside at lunch today with a friend. We went to a park where there is a pond and on the pond live a family of mutant ducks. They are probably the ugliest ducks you've ever seen with fleshy, scarlet head coverings and dull brown feathers. But with them today, were a little flock of fuzzy, yellow and gray ducklings. cue "awwwwws"

As we sat in the cool, light breeze under the shade of the pinleaf oak, we watched the ducklings - one breaking off from the pack and paddling furiously to the opposite end of the pond. His little fluffy feather ruffling slightly in the breeze he was kicking up. His tiny legs were working and if ducks sweat, I could see it glistening on his beak. He was a superstar, a show-off, a daring adventurer - the Calvin of the pond. His mother calmly watched from the bank until he got further than he needed to go...and she reined him in.

He was happy to rejoin the pack - swimming along momma, happy and joyful. I could hear him talking the entire pass by our bench. I was great huh? huh mom? And yes, I thought how like a lesson this was....learning to break free of the pack and try new things. It seems to easy to see that in nature. I could have sat there another two or three hours. This is the beginning of my favorite time. Will the ducks winter over here or will they fly on once the ducklings get bigger? Will the poor loner duck with stunted wings make it through the winter? Will my loves be okay this year? Or the next.

I think about those things as I sit there thinking I'm thinking about nothing really. I think about a lot in my nothing.

worry and not worry

I sit and stare at my fingernails, well the broken stubs that were once fingernails that have now shattered into white crescents scattered across the weekend. As I stare, I try not to bite and even them off as I once would have when I was six. That was the year my aunt gave me an Alvin and the Chipmunks album when I stopped biting my nails. The urge still overtakes me as an adult, whenever I'm uncertain or nervous and I have been known to nibble a bit on my right thumbnail from time to time. It goes hand-in-hand with the lower lip biting.

But, these broken nails come honestly from sweat and work. Not the endless worry that I used to have. Over the past two years I've become braver and more at ease with myself - or is it that I just don't give a ... ah well, you know - I don't care as much anymore what people think. I'm comfortable in my skin for a change. Hell, I guess that's what it is because...well, that not caring thing again.

There are still worries...but they are better, more precious worries - like wanting the best for family and friends, doing a good job, things like that. Productive stuff. Most of the time....until the monsters visit at 3:00 a.m.

I told myself....I can made do with the cheaper one, it's no big deal. So, it's bigger, heavier...it's ok, really - you won't be able to tell a thing. Boy was I wrong.

The new camera came out of the box today along with the new macro lens. The color is just blowing me away straight out of the camera with no tweaks. This is what I've been missing with my poor little rebel.

because I can

*sigh*

it's been a mixed bag of tricks this week....tuesday, I dropped my precious, I mean my camera. many sighs of relief were breathed when everything seemed to work normal and I took it on my beach trip. it even got me through the inspections and the 300 shots I took of the sunset wednesday night. thursday, though it decided to die....well, not so much die but not work in any sort of mode except automatic. *shudder* the apeture is stuck at f/1.8, shutter speed is stuck at 30" and exposure compensation is at -2. so, basically I can take pictures of anything really up close and bright light or it better be still. *sigh*

so, it forced my hand on upgrading my camera - where I had planned to do it later in the year, the new camera comes today. thank god for small favors where a few months ago I would have been without a camera.

the beach was gorgeous, if filled with jellyfish. the shrimp eaten while overlooking the starlit beach - beyond yummy and the malibu and pineapples didn't hurt either. those are the days I love my job. today, however, I have to deal with the nitpicker from hell.

and, thanks again to the two guys that pushed my rental out of the sand when I got it stuck. I need to make sure before I make a u-ey that the shoulder can take the weight of the car. but those damn boat reflections were calling me.

another

Again she looked in the mirror, “it never ends” and plucked another gray hair. “Soon I will be going bald.” The bathroom was in disarray, clothes scattered like buckshot and a pile of shoes where she kicked them in the corner. A fine red powder settled over the scene like Martian dust. A fast blush over the cheeks and a determined nod of the head.

The cat jumped up on the side of sink to take a sip of the water dripping from the faucet which she impatiently tried to tighten, again. The old apartment was losing it’s luster – aging like her, no longer the fun, cheap, kitchy place but just old. The window wheezed as it spat icy blasts of stale air. “Come on Fall….come on.”

Another day slowly klugged to life.

the key

So I was reading "O" this month. Shut up - I like the magazine. Anyway - there is always a column or essay from some famous this or that talking about their "aha" moment. That moment of clarity. This month, it was Dana Delaney. She was telling a story about going to a spa where she has gone quite a few times before and she got a steam session, again, as she has before. She stepped into the cabinet and the attendent left the room. Suddenly the room started closing in on her and she felt panic - as she reached for the handle, there wasn't one.



She was freaking out - panic became full blown as she tried to think how to get out of the cabinet. Her pulses raced and fear was beyond control. At that moment, the attendent walked back and Dana told her she felt uncomfortable. The attendent reached over and lifted the door. Turns out there was no latch because all the person in the cabinet had to do was push open the door.



Goes right back to my favorite lyric - So often times it happens that we live our lives in chains And we never even know we have the key.

yep yep

yep...tomorrow I will be at the beach. that is making today drag by in tiny little increments of boredom and mindnumbing sleepiness. so far, I've edited some shots, looked up the prices of a canon 40d versus the new 50d to come out soon, and paid bills. maybe I should get around to actual work soon? nah...it's lunch time.

ok...so, back from lunch and I still need motivation after the carb overload. I'll be kicking my own ass now.

if the moon is a balloon, and a mouse took my cookie, what else is a girl to do?

this weekend was taken with taking photographs and editing. that is all really....

with gas prices so high and sold out in many stations, you can't drive anywhere far. weather was either hot and humid, or muggy and rainy.

I hope it clears before Wednesday when I will sit on the beach at Pensacola. seems I've been in Florida a lot in the past month. which probably prompted the telephone call today from a friend of Christmas past. *sigh*

life is just different these days.

natural disasters

yesterday gas jumped 53 cents in the matter of a few hours while southern Texas hunkered down and waited. this morning, while I slept safety people feared for their lives and now, as I sit sipping coffee and watching the cooking channel, people wonder when they will have power again. what a difference a few hundred miles make.

I'm lucky to live where I do - far enough north not to be badly effected by hurricanes, close enough to hills not to get much of the tornado stuff, on the top of a hill so that flooding is not an issue...it's just mostly hot and humid. And of course, the largest perk - no snow. I always wonder why people persist to live in constant worry of natural disasters - earthquakes, hurricanes, volcanoes, tornadoes...blizzards. what is that thing that keeps us clinging to things that bring us danger? is it - we are afraid of change? is it, maybe - we like the place except for that occasional three weeks of no power and no water? or, do we in whatever situation crave the feeling of overcoming our environment?

life to me is dangerous and hazardous enough without adding to a bad situation. tornadoes of work chaos erupt without warning with no bunker to hide, earthquakes of relationships that shake our foundations and volcanoes of accidents can spew...give me shelter.

aftermath

I love that word...aftermath...sounds wicked and cruel and....like something major happened. Well, I guess ant bites are not in the category of "major" but my left foot and leg are dotted with these angry white welts (yeah, nice visual, right?). It feels like ants continue to crawl around on my leg. In the meantime, John Cafferty is talking about the darkside.

Eddie & the Cruisers - remember that movie? I freaking loved it. That's why I have this song on my i-Pod. Gotta love the kicky beat and saxophone, right? I loved the movie so much that I even went to see the lame sequel, "Eddie Lives." Ugh - that was right up there with the sequel to Saturday Night Fever. But, at least that one gave me one of the best cheesy lines ever - "Who do you think your dealing with? Some little groupie who jumps when you call, is that who you think I am? We met, we made it what do you think it was true love? And you say I used you but what about you using me? Everybody uses everybody, don't they?" Love the seriously, poorly delivered line Finola.

Did you ever listen to that group, Big Head Todd and the Monsters? They were great - wonder what happened to them. Some groups can make a living forever on a one hit wonder and some guys can just walk away and live another life. Say, like Bobby Sherman...he was huge back in the day and he's a paramedic now? How big of an adjustment is that?

damn fire ants

Ouch....*curses*....really, freaking ouch. I was not hungry today at lunch so I decided to grab the camera for a bit of luncheon bokeh. There is an old park near the office that was built by an ancestor of mine - I had no clue until I read the history of the park during a recent blues festival. Anyway...I randomize.

So, walking around under beautiful, fluffy and bright clouds and gazing at sweet pink tea roses, I stepped into the southern punishment of fire ants. Damn it - before I knew it they were crawling up my left foot and calf before I could register "what is that burning, stinging sensation?"

Holy moley crap - they still burn and I'm fighting the good fight not to scratch them. But, man does it make me grumpy and grouchy. *sigh*

these dreams

I'm beginning to wonder what the hell is wrong with me, well except for generic "age" thing - I seem to ache all the damn time these days. I hate to hear the sound of my respirations and my back seems to be hunched in that constant hunch from general displeasure. I would go to the doctor, except I don't really have a specific reason....besides, I ache.

Where I didn't used to dream - suddenly my brain has opened up and I'm plagued by remembering so many little dreams now. A floodgate of weirdness has opened up and poured out unto my technicolored blanket I had previously pulled tightly around me. Dreams swirl in and out - making no sense and then, suddenly I hear a voice in the back of my mind going, "Oh! that's what that was all about." A never ending Rockette line of kicks and punches to the brains' kidneys.

I carried my new tripod around this weekend like a bodybag - searching for new opportunities, but it was so humid that my hair stuck to the back of the neck like seaweed. The waiting line at the botanical gardens was long as photographers all seemed too lazy to venture much further afield. I made big plans to drive about an hour away - but, those plans were washed away in the thick southern humidity of the afternoon.

I napped - wrapped again in my pink coverlet with the box fan roaring it's white noise over my overly taxed brain. This time - I didn't dream....and awoke to the dark of the evening. Another weekend wasted away and trudging away until Monday. A day of receipts and calculations...of playing the game with the corporate world. What was that saying my dad had? Oh yeah - war is hell or some such crap. (I really mean, "you got to go along sometimes to get along.") I like that song Blue Monday instead.

But....I did start the day with strawberry preserves from the Loveless Cafe...it can't be all bad now can it?

Boobies are big in Nashville

Is it sad that two of the funniest things that happened on this weekend's road trip involved sex? Monday morning as we were making our way to Loveless Cafe we passed a hooker either gearing up for her day or winding down for her night - it was 8:00 a.m. so it was hard to tell, right? She was, as my daddy would say, "tore up from the floor up" in her tight jeans, boots and zip-up halter top. As we passed by, she approached one of the workman changing the light bulbs at the hotel we were leaving.

My sister yelled for me to slow down so she could see what was happening as the hooker reached into her top and showed the guy her boob (flipped him her tit we said). As I circled the block - they disappeared....she apparently is a fast but thorough negotiator. We were impressed by the Nashvegas hooker. Of course this was after being directed to Loveless Cafe by the desk clerk who had come straight to work from a "gig" in her stage make-up and clothes....yeah. It is a music city baby.

As we drove back to Birmingham - we passed the well named, "Boobie Bungalow". Don't cha just want to be the headliner there? I guess it's a better name than say, "Tits Tavern" or "Ta-Ta's Galore" or "Breasts Nest"? We snickered like six-year olds for an hour on that one.

happy roadtrips with friends

snippets:

"where are we?"
"that was reallllllllllllllll niiiiiccce"
"here's your Jack on the rocks"
"it got in my LUNGS"
"Where's Batman?"
"where are the new artists, like Clint Black? asshole"
"she flipped him the tit - I just saw a hooker"
"do I have to drive across the bridge?"
"I'm buying the strawberry jelly. It's jam but I won't tell Carol you said that sister."
"I could tell if he was circumcised or not. ewwww"
"He sang Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer. You stole my thunder!"
"boobie bungalow"