Come To The Dark Side

I did it. I went digital. Three weeks ago, I got a Sony A330 and have since shot two weddings. Pictures to come, with permission of the brides. I'm busy learning Photoshop and Bridge. Be happy for me.

The Amazing Swim

I've been recovering from bronchitis/sinus infection Hell for the past couple of weeks, and rather typically, becoming impatient and frustrated with my body when I don't recover quickly enough. I went swimming on Sunday, did fine, went again on Monday and ached all the way through it and had difficulty breathing, went Tuesday and was miserable - I struggled to breathe, couldn't find any energy and just thoroughly felt defeated. I started to berate myself on the way home because I could only do a lethargic 25 lengths. Of course, I snowballed this self-abuse into me giving up on it entirely and getting tired of things too quickly. I said to a friend to tonight that if I were as mean to anyone else as I am to myself, I probably wouldn't speak to me.

Yesterday, an act of God intervened. I went to the Y and the pool was closed because of thunder and lightening. I didn't want to hang around downtown for it to re-open, so I just headed home and decided to go over to Miss B.'s for dinner and wine spritzers with her and her young though incredibly smart and charming new man-friend.

A night of good food, wine, Scrabble and good old Nashville guitar playing did me the world of good, even though I exceeded my calorie goals (OH NO!) and got a little tipsy and home too late.

Today I braved the pool after my divinely intentioned Day of Rest and knew immediately on dipping myself into the water that I was back! I sailed through the water effortlessly and just rejoiced in the feel of it around my skin and revelled in my ability to glide through it. Today, I managed to swim more than half my lengths front-crawl, and finished 1600 metres in under half an hour. I was actually out of breath when I got out of the pool and felt like I had an incredible workout. I was proud of my body and what it can do.

When I left the Y, I actually felt high on the endorphins. I truly enjoyed my workout. I am glad I have got to the point where it is fun, challenging and a high point in my day, not a chore or just a way to burn calories. I'm actually doing this for my mental as well as physical well-being. Not being able to work out properly until today has left me stressed and frustrated and I am grateful to finally feel like myself again.

More of the Same

Hello dear readers. It seems I haven't written in close to a month, but I just re-read my last blog and I am happy to announce I've continued according to the plan laid out then. I'm still swimming, still eating well, and still going to bed early.

Despite swimming regularly and eating well, I've been plagued with not feeling well for the past month. I had a weird stint of vertigo that lasted about three weeks, followed by a cold that turned into bronchitis and a sinus infection, so it has been difficult to maintain the good habits. I had to take three days off work (for which I did not get paid) and I've had to take a week off from swimming. I'm finally beginning to feel somewhat better, so I plan to swim this afternoon, and I know it will be difficult because I haven't done it for a week. I was getting pretty good there - I even got up to a mile! There's not much else going on really. I'm just eating well, exercising, and am pleased to say I'm losing weight. I'm currently wearing a pair of jeans that haven't fit since last September. I don't feel deprived in the least. I just finished eating a breakfast consisting of coffee with real cream and a whole wheat bagel with cream cheese and smoked salmon and capers. I've cut down my portions significantly (I think that comes from not eating for three weeks - I never picked the appetite back up) and I'm trying to eat a lot of fish, fruit, whole grains and vegetables (oh and some chocolate thrown in for good measure).

I've also cut down on drinking. I figure it doesn't do me much good to swill down caloric depressants every night when I'm trying to battle that sort of thing. Also, the swimming makes me feel good and I find I don't really want to drink. This has cut down significantly on the calories I'm ingesting daily, and from what I can see, my efforts are working.

The Mind and Body Connection

I had a little bit of an epiphany today. For the past few months, I've been trying to fix my mind and my heart, and all efforts have, in truth, failed, but I noticed that recently I've begun to do something else, and it wasn't initially a planned thing. I think I was feeling rotten, so I started to take steps to fix it, and that meant fixing what is going on physically first, and if I feel good in body, the theory goes, maybe the mind and eventually the heart will follow.

I stopped smoking. Actually, joining the Y happened first, but the smoking stopped about 2 days later. I knew exercise would do it, but I thought the actual quitting process would happen much more slowly; however, after the first full day swimming and a night out on which I smoked a ridiculous amount of Camel Crushes, enough to make myself sick really, I quit, suddenly, and without any of the usual crutches. I quit smoking the first time in 2002 after smoking for seven years and that time, I needed the patch. I quit again last year (after starting again, obviously) and I needed the patch again, but this time, I was able to go the full cold turkey. I don't know why that makes me prouder, or more in control, but it does. I finally killed the nicotine craving all by myself. Go me!

The swimming: I adore the swimming. I think I have more of an addiction to the way it makes me feel rather than the actual process of doing it, although I love that too. A friend asked if I found swimming laps boring, I suppose because you can't listen to music or watch TV, but I enjoy not having those distractions and I enjoy consciously working on improving my stroke and my time and monitoring how my body reacts to the challenges I set for it. I enjoy reaping the rewards of the effort becoming easier, or at least smoother, and being able to do a little bit more, or do the same a little bit better, each day.

After getting out of the pool, I feel strangely calm. After not having the opportunity to swim yesterday or today, I feel uptight, both physically and mentally. My mood is distracted and anxious and I can't wait to get back in the pool tomorrow. I mentioned earlier that I started exercising to reduce my anxiety level, and it has, but I already feel stronger, and I can already see improvements in my body (or my figure, as my grandma would say). It's amazing what can happen in two weeks.

Like bad habits, it seems good habits also have a domino effect, or come together because the mutual benefits are greater than the singular. I have mentioned previously my rotten eating habits the past few months. My stomach has been constantly upset and intolerant of anything weird, so I ate a lot of stodge: chicken, bread, butter, some salad. That's about it. Well, now I've cut out the butter and the white bread, started eating more fish, taking my lunch to work, and actually planning ahead for meals, like, you know, an adult or something. Today, two ladies in the cafeteria said to each other within purposeful earshot of me, "Can we bash her over the head and steal her lunch?" I haven't cooked inside in about two months. The little Weber porch grill has cooked everything, and that makes for healthier eating too. I find when I cook for myself, I generally lose weight. There are some great things about being single, and one is the act of controlling exactly what you eat and when, and not having to compromise with someone else so often over food choices.

Sleep: Oh dear readers, I do not sleep. I've had trouble with this since college and when there are stressors in my life, the problem manifests itself severely. For the past several months, I've been averaging about four hours' sleep a night, if I'm lucky, but I took steps to take care of this problem also. The doctor said I have all the symptoms of chronic insomnia, and prescribed more exercise and sleepy pills. I don't really have to take the pills all that often - just knowing they are there and I won't have to lie awake all night helps most of the time, and the swimming really wears me out, but even if I'm dead to the world tired, my mind keeps ticking and won't let me sleep. This week's goal has been Project Early Night. I've been in bed before ten every night, comfy and reading. I don't set a limit on how long I can read - just no phone, no computer, and no other distractions.

This is my plan for now. I take one day at a time, and try to make improvements one little step at a time. I'm hoping the physical improvements and the benefit of endorphins will work their magic on me. I also haven't forgotten about the healing benefits of creativity and am about to text Miss. L. to ask if she wants to work on our photo project this weekend. We are still brainstorming and it has been on hiatus because she went on vacation, but the plan is still very much in the works.

Do You Belong in a Stall?

Really, because some people have only slightly better manners than animals who do.

To the person at work who talks on her cell phone in the bathroom stall:

I want to pee in peace!!!! I DO NOT want whoever is on the other end of YOUR conversation hearing me pee. Perhaps I'm old fashioned, or some sort of crazy privacy freak, but I hold the belief that being in a public restroom should entitle one to at least some modicum of privacy. Get off the damn phone. Go somewhere else. I'm sure your husband/boyfriend/child/friend doesn't want to hear you peeing either.

That's it. That's my rant for today.

Three Things

Has it really been a week since I posted? I've been thinking about writing on this blog all week, but I suppose thinking it doesn't really get the baby bathed does it?

It's been a rough week and I won't pretend otherwise for the sake of keeping my chin up on this blog. I think I reached something akin to my nadir during the past few days. Suddenly everything seemed totally shit. My life seemed pointless and irreparable and I didn't know what to do. The months of not sleeping, of rehashing my former relationship in my head, of fighting and fighting to try and find a decent job, of struggling with money and broken cars and unforeseen expenses, finally got to me and I felt more down than I have in years. I cried every day last week, sometimes about these big things and sometimes because I spilt cat food on the floor or couldn't find anything to wear. I felt rotten. I had panic attacks, dizzy spells, the fits of crying, extreme exhaustion, swings between extreme emotion and extreme apathy, and on top of that, my skin broke out like you wouldn't believe.

Fortunately, I have good friends, friends who took me out and cheered me up last Friday and Saturday. The combination of $5 martinis at the gay bar, game night, and an amazing U2 cover show did show me that perhaps life might occasionally be worth sticking around for, even if those moments seem fleeting.

My weekend was terrible. I napped a lot, picked fights with my parents and anyone else who would listen, thought about getting things done, but didn't, complained about the heat, moped, and dreaded going back to work.

Today though, today seemed better. I set myself three manageable goals: Join the Y, make a doctor's appointment, and buy good, healthy groceries. I did all three. I didn't get home until almost 8pm, and I'm tired, but I feel good that I got something done.

Downtown Blue Ridge, GA

Roosters hanging out downtown, next to the city hall

I wish my garden looked like this!

When I first moved to this country, I thought it was hilarious that chemists or pharmacies were called drugstores. I knew they weren't selling illegal drugs, but that's what it sounded like to me. It's funny because this must have been a mail order sign, or a very typical one for the times, because there is one just like it in Franklin, TN.

Endless Photo Opportunity in My Neck of the Woods

I was jealous of the people on the boat! I wanted to be out on the lake!

The "beach" at Rayon City

Ye Olde Discount Tobacco Shoppe.

Rayon City is right next to Old Hickory Village. It looks like it may have been a cute and viable village at one time. It, like Old Hickory, was built for the DuPont plant workers. The Dupont plant is still here, and still fully functional, but the area has gone downhill, or so I hear, in the past few years. Still, there are glimpses of what the past looked like.

Spring Sunset On Old Hickory Lake

This was a while ago, but it was a lovely spring night on Old Hickory Lake, probably one of the first nights nice enough to take a boat out, and people were taking advantage of it. I nipped out to get something from the store, took my camera with me, and it looked so gorgeous, I had to stop and snap a few shots.

99 Red Balloons

Remember that song? Do you think 99 red balloons could lift my mood tonight? I'd certainly give them a shot. Perhaps a shot would help, no wait, that's a depressant. Prozac?

There's no air in my house, and it's ninety degrees outside at nine at night. There's no air in my car, and that's the least of its problems right now. I'm wondering if the failure of my general mood to lift for the past few days has anything to do with being boiled to death at home and frozen to bits at work? I could do with some consistency, folks.

I'm pretty down in the dumps. I went to a party on Sunday night, grilled for everyone there, tried to stay up and be social, but fell asleep at around eleven.

So, since writing the above, I talked to my friend Miss K. She was the 99 balloons I needed. We're both going through trying to find a way into our chosen career Hell, so it was good to talk to someone who understands how hard it is, and how hard it is to drag yourself into work every day to a job you don't care about. She is looking for a library job and I am looking for a teaching job, so we are not many worlds apart. She too has a Master's in her field, so she's kind of in the same boat as me.

It has occurred to me that I need to post some pictures, just to keep this whole thing a little bit interesting, so I will do that right now!

Crazy is Relative

Tonight, Miss L. and I brainstormed a photo project. I won't go into details, but it is quite an undertaking, involving 78 images that require planning, staging, models and props, and possibly a lot of post-processing. She is really good at that. I suck, and lack the proper resources anyway. I didn't intend to hang out with her all day, but she got out of work early and I had to pick up some pics from her, so we started hanging out, drinking beer and got into planning a project, something I'd been thinking about for a while, but I needed someone else on board with me and she seems game.

Miss B. came over later, agreed to be one of our models, and helped us brainstorm the images. We talked until about midnight and I drove the relatively short distance home. Perhaps I'm getting old, or more sensible, but driving home on a Saturday night is like taking your life into your hands. I stopped at a light to turn onto Briley Parkway, and whilst there, nearly got hit by not one, but two cars. One truck did a noisy and seemingly last minute u-turn right behind me and another car swerved to miss me and went barrelling through a red light. What the hell? It was like that all the way home. I was minding my own business, driving between the lines and below the speed limit, and all around me, the crazies were out to get me. Where were the cops? Oh, they were probably busy racial-profiling on Charlotte Pike or pulling over people for driving while being Mexican. I was just relieved to get back through my front door in one piece. I had been drinking beer, but not a lot, and over a long period of time, and I felt stone cold sober on the way home. If I hadn't, I'm sure the many near-death experiences I encountered would have sobered me right up.

Things I Have to Have in My Car

My car these days is like a baby. I've always been somewhat bemused by people who have a kid, a tiny little human, and then feel compelled to buy an enormous vehicle to cart around the miniature creature; however, they always say the same thing, that you have to cart around so much stuff when you have a baby. There are pushchairs and carseats and bags and toys and, I don't know because I don't have a kid, but I'm sure the list goes on.

Well, my car is a baby. I have to cart around so much stuff in it these days just to keep it on the road. Here's a list:

A gallon of water
An adjustable wrench
WD 40
Spare bulbs
A GPS
A towel

The gallon of water serves to fill up my leaking water tank caused, apparently, by a faulty water pump (hopefully this will get fixed this weekend). The adjustable wrench helps to get the pressurized cap off the water tank because the pressure creates a vacuum when all the water leaks out.

The WD 40 is for the car's post-flood problems. It now gets finicky when it rains, and I can't drive it through puddles. After it rains, I have to spray all the electricals in the the engine with WD 40 so my car won't sputter out and stall. We've had so much rain lately that this has become a common occurrence and I am learning to be prepared.

Spare bulbs: my tail-light bulbs blow out all the time. I keep spare ones on hand at all times.

The GPS: I have no working speedometer, so my GPS serves as a way to tell me how fast I'm going. Actually, driving a manual car makes it easier to guesstimate what speed you're going, but it makes me feel better when I'm followed by a cop if I actually have some idea.

The towel: I have no air conditioning. I keep the windows cracked, especially when I'm at work all day. Sometimes it rains and I don't know, so keeping a towel handy means I don't have to ride home with a wet bottom.

Despite its aging issues, I still love this car. Just had to mention that.

Post-Flooding in Metrocenter

This river usually has a bank - this was 5 days post-flood. It had risen up all the way to the building I currently "work" in.

You can see how high the water is, but you can't imagine how bad the smell is!

Stranded!

I'm stranded between work and home for the next few days and the thought is depressing the hell out of me. I do not want to be home, alone, bored. I'm sure there's plenty I could be doing with my time like cleaning out the sock drawer, or rearranging my CD's into alphabetical order. Or perhaps I could mow my grass or finish some laundry, or remember what the vacuum cleaner looks like.

My parents are borrowing my car. My mother is taking me to work and picking me up again, and at all other times, I am stranded here. I also have hurt my back somehow, so heavy housework and lawn-mowing is not in my immediate future. So tonight, life pretty much sucks. I was hoping to go out and distract myself from my life, if I can't actually divorce it right now, but that plan is pretty much shot. So, I'm in a funk.

What's the funk about, you ask, or maybe you didn't, but I'll tell you anyway. Radio Silence was interrupted by a transmission last week, and it has me funked out. AMWUDM sent a message asking if I was o.k. I replied. He answered "Yup." Two months of not speaking and "Yup." I think my former theory that he's gone completely off his rocker might actually be the most on target. I don't even get a real word? I'm not worthy of a REAL WORD? I guess not, I am just the good time girl after all. That's what he said when we broke up (he really does have a way with words), after months of professing love for me, that "we had a good time." I honestly could have smacked him across the face for that one. Perhaps I should have, maybe it would have knocked some sense into him. Was that supposed to make me feel better? "I broke your heart, but damn, we had a really great time doing it. See ya around kiddo!"

We did have a flood, and it's conceivable, possibly, that I could have drowned, but still, he doesn't care that he broke my heart into a million completely unrecognizable pieces, but he cares that I'm not drowned, or dead, or my house isn't washed away?

I have a nibbling doubt from that, one that creeps forward from the back of my head at inconvenient times, that maybe I am the Good Time Girl. Maybe I'm not the girl men marry or have kids with or hang out with at barbecues with their parents with. Maybe I'm just the Good Time. I drink, I swear, I have a good time. I like to talk about sex and politics and get feisty about both. Perhaps that's not what men want in the girls they marry or settle down with. I should be the demure virgin (whether real or just in demeanor), the Angel of the Household, as the Victorians would have it. It does no good to ponder though, because I'm just not that kind of girl and will never be.

I promise to interrupt my self-indulgent and whiny posts with picture postings soon. I'm working on the 150 or so photographs I uploaded a few days ago and I'm finding the sheer volume a little overwhelming, but I'm getting there, I promise. They are divided into albums, so that's a step in the right direction. Well, me and my very sore back are going to bed with a heavy dose of painkiller.

Oh, the Weekend!

Oh how I hate working. I really begrudge having to work for a living, well, not really, but I begrudge having to keep an 8-5 schedule in a job that I just see as a paycheck. I don't have anything in common with the people I work with - none of them are educated - actually I think the temps are more educated than the full-time people - all of them have millions of kids each - they seem to like their pointless jobs - and I just feel like an outcast, at best. They are really nice people, unlike the people I used to work with at my last crappy temp job, but this still just feels like a place-marker in my life. My life is crying out for me to divorce it. That's what one recently divorced friend told me: "Maybe you need to divorce your life." Maybe so indeed. I'm plotting and planning ways to do it.

On that note, I love weekends. I haven't done anything this weekend except drive around, grill out, and spend time with family. Yesterday I hung out with my mother and we went to Wal Mart to buy her mother's day present, which was a grill, a chimney, and some charcoal; we grilled out steaks on it last night after I put it together. Today I took her over a flat of flowers, because she said she wanted to plant something, and we went out for lunch at this place that I've been driving by for weeks and dying to try. It's a little Mexican restaurant and take-out on Gallatin Road named, quite simply, after its menu items. It's a run-down little place but the draw is its smell. They have a ginormous oil drum barbecue outside on which they are grilling whole chickens night and day and as you drive by, the smell seeps into your soul. Now, you know how I feel about grilled chicken these days, so I just had to try it. I persuaded my mother to step outside of her usual let's-get-take-out routine and actually come with me to this place. We shared a whole grilled chicken, with rice, beans, salad, and tortillas for $11, and it is one of the best meals I have ever had. Wow, it was truly delicious. I am definitely going back.

I have had an affinity lately for restaurants named after menu items: there's my new favourite - Tacos Y Mariscos Y Pollo Al Carbon and the similarly named House of Gyro, Salad, and Hamburger. I think this naming trend might be something to look out for on my constant search for good and unusual cheap eats in Nashville.

New Film, and Floods.

In case you haven't heard, and if you have been listening to national media, there's a good chance you haven't, Nashville flooded this weekend - the entire city and environs of Nashville. It's a 500 year record apparently, although I'm not entirely sure how they know that. I'll write more about that, but I have to make up hours at work tomorrow and get there ridiculously early, so I must sleep soon.

I picked up five rolls of 35mm film yesterday. I'm excited. I have seen some of the pictures and I am sure I will be posting more soon. I knew it was raining pretty hard, but when I drove to Wolf on Saturday, I realized it was a lot worse than I had thought. I didn't get to pick the film up until Tuesday, and as of today, Wednesday night, large parts of Nashville are still underwater.

But.... I am tired. More on all that soon.

Nashville: Signs of Light, Easter 2010, with a Zeiss Ikoflex

These photographs of mid-century signs were taken with my Zeiss Ikoflex, a camera of approximately the same vintage as the signs. The camera isn't in perfect condition either - it has some issues with the viewfinder, and sometimes the shutter sticks, so I think it's the perfect camera to use to take photographs of these decaying, but still strangely beautiful and compelling signs.

This photo epitomizes Dickerson Road, an area replete with seedy liquor stores, discount tobacco, porn stores, thrift, second-hand appliance stores, really good BBQ, crumbling motels and trailer parks. What is the "last chance"? It seems like there's a message here beyond the literal.

The Underbelly of Nashville

 Weiss Liquors in East Nashville. You can't see them, but underneath the sign sits a collection of possibly homeless men who were drinking beverages encased in paper bags from the discount tobacco next door. I tried to include them in one of my shots, but they became suspicious of me and shuffled away behind the building.

The picture above was taken across the street from the Nation of Islam, which was blasting its sermon on Easter Sunday through a loudspeaker. The effect was surreal. This cleaners is on Buchanan Street, which is particularly dangerous part of Nashville. I know because I have an unhealthy addiction to the Metro Crime Maps, and there are always shootings and rapings and pillagings in this area. However, it contains a lot of good photo-fodder.

Ah Dickerson Road, a bastion of old signage and general decrepitness.

Zeiss Pictures from Easter, continued.

This is an abandoned motel near Metrocenter. I would love to go back here and take more pictures.

I got yelled at for taking the picture below. I'm not sure what's so secret about the Bordeaux Motel, or if I want to know what's going on there that you can't take pictures of it from the street.

The World Keeps Turning...

Photography puns aside, my life feels out of focus. Everyone tells you that life goes on, that the world keeps turning, even if you stand still, and that is true. I feel like I have to go with the flow and the rotation of the Earth and all that, but it's making me a little dizzy.

I haven't taken many pictures this week, and perhaps that's why I'm feeling a little ungrounded. I should get out on my lunchbreak tomorrow and snap some pics of the river near my workplace. Today I sat and contemplated the turtles sunning themselves and then dipping back into the water for a swim. I have to admit feeling a little jealous as I sunned myself in my business-casual attire on the riverbank, trying to extract joy and relaxation and sunshine from every moment before I had to go in and wither under the fluorescent lights.

I have a new job, in case I failed to mention. That's really how much I care beyond the obvious need for a paycheck. However, the people in this place are really nice and the job is at least marginally more interesting and doesn't call for me to consistently question my morals and the state of health-care in this country, like denying medications to elderly people on Medicare did at my last job.

This week has flown by. I always think on Mondays that it will drag on forever, but the days have gone conveniently by, and work hasn't seemed too much of an imposition on my actual life, although it has robbed me of much needed sleep a couple of times this week. I have been out a couple of times with the aforementioned guy with whom I went on a date the day after my birthday. I guess I'm getting to know him now, and I still find him interesting and fun to hang out with. I have zero expectations and I hope he has zero expectations of me, but the time has passed with great conversation, good laughs, good food, lots of beer and a movie or two. He is very smart, as I've said before, and also extremely sweet, but genuinely above-board about his life and his situation in it. He's not too happy with his life either, and like me, not really in the place he wants to be, so we have something in common there, and it's nice to talk about how to improve our relative situations. I don't know how I feel about any of it, but I went out with him on Monday, and I actually (gasp) called him to suggest Happy Hour imbibing yesterday, which turned into a much later night than I had bargained for. Oh well, I can sleep when I'm dead, right.

There's no word from the ex-boyfriend (The Aforementioned Man Who Unceremoniously Dumped Me, or AMWUDM) - a friend of mine called it "radio silence," and that's a pretty good way of describing it. He booted me from Facebook, which I suppose was expected, although I'm surprised it took him so long. Perhaps my posts were annoying him, although I suspect they were doing something else, but hey, I won't get into it.

I've been honest, to a fault I think, with this new guy (we'll call him New Guy I'm Hanging Out With or NGIHOW) and I came up with a drunken, yet appropriate analogy in which I compared my heart recently to the post WWII ravaged fields of France, which has now naturally progressed into the Cold War. I think honesty is the best policy. I haven't promised him I won't freak out at some point - there goes the Cold War analogy again - and I have said explicitly that I am simply not capable of a deep emotional connection with anyone right now. My heart has not been set right, and there are certain things that will have to happen before it will be. Right now, I am in a period of stasis. I don't actively feel any healing going on, and I don't think I will, but I am learning coping mechanisms and I am learning to just do, even if I don't feel - perhaps that will come later. That goes for relationships, getting out of bed in the morning, remembering to eat, laugh, and see the good surrounding me - I am going through the motions, but generally I still envy the turtles and their easy life and that convenient shell under which to hide.

Booze, Milkshakes and Hand-Cut Fries!

This was my first experiment with the Diana in 2008. I got up ridiculously early one morning, back when I was with my ex-boyfriend from a couple of years ago. He was pissing me off as usual, and I was finding it very difficult to sleep, so I decided to get the hell out of the house and take the Diana with me, do some grocery shopping, and take some pictures on the way. These are of Charlotte Pike in West Nashville. I think I made it to Publix by seven that morning, so these were probably taken around 6:30 in the morning. I've always had a "thing" for taking pictures of signs, as you can probably tell. I still was not too cognicent of the very real possiblity of light leaks, as you can see, but lately, steps have been taken to eliminate this annoyance. However, the pictures do have a dreamy Nashville of the Past quality that I'm still striving for lately. There are these little peeps into life in Nashville in the early 20th century and I love seeking them out and resurrecting them somewhat.

Ah, Bobbie's Dairy Dip, how I miss living within walking distance of you. How I miss your hand-cut fries and pineapple-banana milkshakes (Claire sheds a little tear).

My Response to Mr. N.

I love the points Mr. N. brought up, and even though he intended them as "an argument," they really validated what I was saying. I don't think film in itself is inherent to true camera knowledge, but rather, I believe that having manual control over your shutter speed/ISO/aperture gives you an insight into the way light works, whether you are working with light hitting a piece of film or a digital sensor. I love the way he has explained how working with the manual focus and a low aperture has forced him to become more creative in his portraits of tango dancing. I am sure that shooting inside and shooting moving and unpredictable subjects in low light forces choices that otherwise would just make it easier to shoot the more conventional way with a pop up flash and action stop. Here, as he said, you have to plan for mistakes and learn what works and what doesn't, and I'm a believer that only that absolute control can really give you that, just like only driving a manual car can give you insight into the way a car shifts gears.

He also said that as he shoots more, although he still manipulates in photoshop, (which I am learning too), that he finds he has to manipulate less and less. I totally agree with this - as you learn the control, you learn to get it right the first time, because you inherently know what will work and what is beyond the realm of real possibility, but you also learn, with this, what IS within the realm of possibility and you learn to make creative choices based on aperture and shutter speed, and you can picture the kind of photo you're going to get. This does guide your choices. You can say: I know I have a shallow depth of field, but I know I can capture this movement and I can capture one particular piece of it, so that might make a more interesting photograph than capturing the whole scene.

I am curious what happens if he employs a pop flash with this, or what happens if his camera has rear flash synch (yay, great modern invention). If you pop a flash manually, you don't have to worry too much about aperture and it gives you the freedom to be more creative visually. But the rear synch flash would make the motion make sense, even though you would sacrifice the weird unpredictable bulb/pop flash thing. So hey, Mr. N., I challenge you to the results.

I would like to say that I would love him to post some of his pictures on here to illustrate what he is learning.

I always find those kind of situations challenging, and as you can probably see from my current photo postings, I shy away from taking pictures of people, and I have a lot to learn. It's something I've never been good at and I would love to see how his pictures progress as he gets more comfortable with the method and with the people. I'm hoping he can teach me something.

And Mr N., I too have a 50mm lens with a 1.8 that I haven't busted out yet, but it is an amazing lens - I once heard that 50mm is the closest to how we actually remember the scenes in our lives, and that's why it was so popular, but that super-shallow aperture gives such a dreamy quality that can't be equaled. I'm currently in love with my 2.8 24mm lens, but I shall have to dig out the old 50mm and give it a try too, especially when I get a chance to take pictures of people.

Moving Again

Ok, folks, now I'm on this photo kick, I've decided to branch this off into another blog. Please go to www.clairelightanddark.blogspot.com. It's dedicated to photography and the power of art to channel, you know, emotions and stuff (not to get too gushy or anything).

Here are a couple more. The one in the middle is City House. Once again, I took that in colour, but it looks better in black and white. I so feel like I'm cheating when I can push a button and it's suddenly a gorgeous black and white picture, but seriously, this is the digital age, and I need to get over my dinosaur self.

Here are some pictures I took the other day on my lunch break at the old Yazoo Brewery in Marathon Village. These were taken with my trusty FE2 on 35mm film. I was just bored, needed to get out of the office, and playing around. I've spent a lot of time there in the past year, and the place has some wonderful and some bittersweet memories. The originals were colour print film, but playing around in Picasa produced much better results in black and white.

Kept Promises

Lately, amidst all the turmoil, something strange has happened: I've made promises to myself, albeit little ones, and kept them.

Today, as promised, I went to the Flying Saucer to celebrate the Divorce Day of my friend, Miss B. I kept my promise and took my Diana equipped with a flash and a cheesy homemade paper towel diffuser. It looked kind of strange, and I did get some odd looks, but I took my interior shots. I'm not sure how I'm going to feel about the results. I had to open the shutter and pop the flash at the same time, and that takes some coordination and a very steady hand. I am sure I thought I was keeping the camera a lot steadier than I actually was. But, I took a roll as an experiment, so we'll see how it comes out. Everything handy became a makeshift tripod - Miss B.'s beer glass, my beer class, the back of a chair, the table, my chest - anything to get a steady surface. I would like to attach the flash to the camera properly, but for that I would have to order the adapter for a flash, and I think it only works with the special Diana flash, which is ridiculously overpriced, and I'm not sure I could justify spending sixty dollars on something I just want to experiment with. We'll see how these pics come out - if I like the results, I may stick with this cumbersome process, but if not, I might look into other options.

After the Saucer, we went to The Villager, a place I don't think I've been in at least a year and I realized the picture taking potential in there. It would be amazing for Diana flash shots. I found some blogs at work today on how to finagle a Diana to work with a regular flash. I'll have to check them out and see what I can rig up. I have to slow down a little on the film-taking though because this could seriously eat up all my money, either that or I have to cut down the booze and food budget - oh the sacrifices we make for art! (I'm just kidding really - I'm not picturing myself as a great starving artist or anything - I'm just a girl with a camera trying to drown some demons.)

My Dam Pictures!

I worked for an hour this morning. Apparently no one thought to tell me not to come into work, but that really doesn't surprise me. There was nothing to do and no one there. I sat there, waiting for someone to show up or something to happen, and it didn't, so I waited an hour and decided to leave. Fortunately, something told me to bring my camera equipment. Mr. W. called to tell me I had left my make-up at their house. I told him I was leaving and he said he would have breakfast ready. Have I mentioned I have phenomenal friends?

I persuaded him to come on yet another adventure with me. He's ex-army and kind of tough, so I figured having him along for the ride was a perfect opportunity to take pictures in all the nastiest areas of Nashville today. He was my photo-bodyguard.

We were driving towards Bordeaux when I suddenly noticed an old neon motel sign that had previously gone completely unnoticed, even after driving that road scores of times. I pulled into the driveway and we discovered a photographic goldmine - an abandoned motel with loads of junk and about the best neon sign in Nashville. Mr. W. borrowed my Nikon FE2, and after a little instruction in the ways of "analogue" camera technique, started shooting away, and quite successfully (I already mentioned how cool that camera is, didn't I?).

We snaked around Nashville in the gorgeous weather (when I post the pics, you'll see the gorgeous deep blue skies dotted with little independent puffy cotton-wool clouds) and made our way through scary neighbourhoods (Bordeaux, Buena Vista, Jefferson, Dickerson Rd.). We were only yelled at once, by an Indian woman who scowled at me and told me I couldn't take a picture of her crappy hotel sign. She doesn't have much choice about it if I take it from the street anyway, but I didn't want to get into the legal specifics with her. The great thing about shooting a TLR - no one thinks you are taking a picture because they don't see you raise it to your face. Sneaky.

On Buchanan Street (a street filled with photographic gems - I would love to go at night, but simply lack the bravery/stupidity to do so), I took a picture of an old laundry/dry-cleaners. Across the street, the Nation of Islam mosque blasted their sermon via loudspeakers for the surrounding blocks to hear. On Easter, the effect was quite surreal. On Dickerson Road, a bum carrying a brown-bagged 40, who stumbled across the street oblivious to the cars swerving to miss him, asked me to take a picture of him. I declined as I only had two shots left and still had to backtrack and shoot the Last Chance Liquor Store, but I should've.

After driving through Nashville's nether regions, Mr. W. and I went back to Wolf Camera to see Miss L. and get our rolls processed. She, as predicted, had already developed our film from Friday night. A few of mine came out great, especially one taken on the pier at Old Hickory Marina. However, we deduced I might have a shutter-sticking problem, because three pictures in row came out severely over-exposed on mine. Strangely enough, they were all pictures of Old Hickory Dam. Miss L. exclaimed, "your dam pictures didn't come out!" Dam pictures!

I got some prints of my latest rolls too, but I don't have a scanner here at the moment. I promise pics soon!

Unexpected Play Day!

Today I unexpectedly got out of work at 11:30. I need the money, but there was nothing I could do about it, so I decided to enjoy the day. I went over to my parents' house for a while, came back here and had a shower, and decided, as it was a perfect, gorgeous day, to head out to the country and take pictures. I picked up Mr. W. and we headed out to Ashland City, Charlotte, and came home through Dickson, where we ravenously ate BBQ. I managed to get a good roll of film (I think) and found a really cool old house to take many pictures of. I'm hoping they come out as fabulously as I envisioned, but I don't know how often that actually happens.

Driving around all afternoon with the top down on the car has made me super tired. I could go to bed and pass out, and as you may or may not know about me, I am a little bit of an insomniac and almost never feel truly tired. It's always a fight to get me to go to bed, but like a two year old with terrible two tantrums, apparently the secret is to make me play all day in the sun.

I plan to go into work tomorrow, but I'm not sure if there will be anything to do. I envision getting home early. If so, I might go to the Flying Saucer in the afternoon and take some interior shots there - the windows are really gorgeous and I think with a Diana and a pop flash, it should come out rather interesting and pretty. I'm curious to experiment with the Diana and a flash and see what I get, especially indoors during the day.

I'll keep you posted. Sorry I haven't posted any pictures yet, but I still don't have my scans back. As soon as I do, I will post anything that's semi-decent.

Photodate

Last night I had my photodate with Miss L. She brought her Mamiya TLR, so we were both shooting old school. This got some questions when we went down to the marina. People were fascinated with our old, strange looking cameras. The light wasn't as good last night as is was the night before, but it turned gorgeous right before it got dark, so I am hoping I captured some of that. Miss L. took my film to be developed, so I should have results tomorrow, at least of the negatives, and I am so excited about getting my scans Tuesday.

We went around the lake and the dam and the marina, and took some pictures of old stuff here in Old Hickory. I am about to have a shower and do it all over again with Mr. W., who has offered to humor me and come with me to take some pics. The light is gorgeous today, so I'm hoping to get some good shots, of what, I don't know. I guess we'll figure it out as we go. Wish me luck. I'm taking the Diana, the Zeiss, and my trusty Nikon FE2 (which by the way, is my first real camera - I'll tell you the story of that one day - and still my true favourite. I love that camera like it's family). Anyway, I wax nostalgic. Time to get off my arse and go and take pictures!

Healthy Geeky Addictions

I took the film I shot yesterday into Wolf for developing and most of it came out well. I may have a film-advancing issue with this camera though as three of the frames look as if they have been double-exposed and washed out. I'm not sure what happened, but something didn't work right. However, the camera has the ability to work correctly as the other frames came out perfectly. I talked to a guy as PSU here in Nashville today and he said to just work more film through it and see what happens because the camera has been sitting for a while and it could just be stiff and need some use to fix it. Fortunately, if it does have an issue, it looks like they might be able to recalibrate it for me. They are the only people in town who still deal in old cameras. Dury's used to, but they are almost completely digital and didn't have one single roll of 120 film. I think the guy told me when I bought some in 2008 that they were phasing it out. I guess it's just a sign of the times. Thank God for the Internets because I know I can find it there.

I knew there was one roll I took in Ireland that was completely ruined and I found out which one that was today. I think I dropped the Diana and the back came off, so everything was bleached out. There wasn't a single image on the roll. I'm glad to have found it because now I don't have to keep processing them and wondering if they are completely unsalvageable. 

My friend and I are going out on a photodate on Friday and I am so excited. I think we are just going to do it old-school and drive around and see what we find. I'm tempted to go out in the next couple of hours and take some pictures here in Old Hickory. There are definitely enough weird and quirky things to photograph in this neighbourhood. This photography thing is turning into a full-fledged addiction, but at least it's a healthier one than most. I'm just happy to feel creative again!

I am so excited for next week when I can pick up my CDs and post some of what I have been talking about here. I am hoping the prints look as good as the negatives do because sometimes negatives can be misleading. However, I think I have enough to post a few fairly decent pictures. There is one Diana image I am especially curious about. It is an accidental (happy) double exposure of Ballybunion Beach. There is a huge silhouette on the frame of the castle and inside that silhouette sits a landscape view of the castle and cliffs. It's totally accidental and I have absolutely no idea how it happened, but I am hoping the actual image is as promising as the negative. I promise, next week, if it is, I'll post it.

Instant Gratification

Two good things happened today. Here's the first:

I decided to look in my attic for various photo accessories I thought I had remembered putting up there, and my search was more than fruitful. I had completely forgotten I had another Zeiss. This one is a mid-fifties folding 35mm rangefinder, so I am spending tonight googling and figuring out what it can do. It seems I have a vintage camera for every situation. This one allows you to slip a flash right on top, and it will apparently work with a modern strobe flash, so it might be better for indoor situations. There are many complicated knobs and levers and I haven't quite figured out what they all do yet, but I plan to as I go along.  I think my dad's friend gave me this camera, and I honestly have never used it, but God bless the Internets, because you can find instructions for anything.

The second good thing that happened: I took a few rolls of film into my friend at Wolf Camera. I took these rolls of 120 a year and a half ago in Ireland, on the vacation on which my Grandad died. I have some pictures from the day he died. My friend and I just had to get out of the house, so we went down to the coast and tried to find the windmills we could see from the top of the hill. Our search was successful and we took many pictures of them.

I took some pictures with a digital camera, but I also shot some with my Diana. I wasn't entirely sure what I was doing, so I didn't have much confidence in the pictures I took. I thought there would be too many light leaks, double exposures (although those can sometimes produce happy accidents), and missed frames to make the film worth processing. But I gathered up my courage and finally took some of the film in for processing. My friend eased my mind by saying she would just run it through to see if there were viable images on the film before I committed to having them scanned to CD or printed. It turned out that each of the rolls had viable looking pictures. Some even merit a lot of promise, so I sent them for scanning. I can't scan film myself, at least not with the kind of results a lab can produce, so I have to wait about a week for the CDs to come back. Damn waiting in a world where I am used to instant gratification. I love shooting film, and I still haven't made the leap fully into digital, but I deplore the waiting. Give it to me NOW!

I shot a roll of film today with the Zeiss TLR. I used my light meter, so I am more confident about my expected results. As I have said in past blogs, over the past few years, I have experienced a creative lull, and with that, a diminished confidence in both my creative ability and technical control. Today, I took things slowly, metered, made sure everything was in the right place, and only then cocked the shutter. I like this approach and the limited number of exposures on 120 films lends itself well to such a contrived approach. I may drop the film off tomorrow because I'm so curious how it came out. I have to drive all the way downtown to get it processed, but my excitement may get the best of me anyway. I felt in control of the camera today for the first time in years. All that know-how came back, and my "eye" began to see things in that special photographer's way.

It's been three weeks. No contact. No explanation. I'm trying to find the best ways to deal with it I know how. Crying, not eating, smoking, and going out to bars with friends hasn't helped. I hope something more constructive will help. I am still feeling completely gouged out and empty on the inside, completely devoid of the answers I need, but I am hoping that time will provide them. In the meantime, I hope for better things in other facets of my life, and I hope that the creative urge will continue to burn. It's been such a long time since I have felt it and I wanted it to come back so desperately. I am sorry it has taken me getting my heart broken to give it the push it needed.

Vintage TLR

I own this camera. My dad bought it for me at an antique store in downtown San Antonio, right across the street from The Alamo about ten years ago. Today, at work, our computer system went down, so I spent most of the day researching how to use this camera because it has been so long since I have even attempted. I've figured out what most of the levers and dials do, and I may have figured out its history, although the information on the Internet is either unreliable or in German, or both. It was made somewhere between 1939 and 1951. Some posts say it is the 1930s model, others say it is the 1950s. To me, it looks more like 1940s or '50s. Even so, it's a sixty-year old camera that appears to be in good working order. 

I've figured out how to attach a flash - I even have a flash that will work just fine - and I think I am going to take some indoor smokey bar pictures using a flash and an open shutter speed, just for kicks. It will take a lot of experimentation to get that sort of thing right, but I've been wanting to perfect it for years. I also have a tripod (and a tripod shoe - somewhere) and a cable release, so if I can find all of this stuff, I might be up for some night shots later on this week. I found my lovely, expensive light meter yesterday, so I shouldn't have any problems with exposure, even though this camera doesn't have a built-in light meter. It does have a rather cute chart on the side telling what the exposures should be from "May to August from 9 - 15 o'clock" in the Northern Hemisphere. It gives examples of exposure combinations for persons, landscapes and streets. For "streets," the camera makers even go to the trouble of specifying "narrow" or "ample squares." With my mostly expired 160 speed film, I will be sure to look for ample squares.

So tomorrow, I am going to buy some batteries and take some test shots, and see how they come out. I have a friend at Wolf Camera who can process 120 film for me, so I shouldn't have too long of a wait to see how they come out. I'm not expecting anything phenomenal for the first few rolls I take, as I am ridiculously rusty and clumsy-fingered, and I'm dealing with equipment not entirely familiar to me. I haven't really given this little camera a real chance in all the years I have had it, but I have seen some amazing links online to pictures taken with them. Even using modern film, the photographs have a dreamy, mid-century look to them, while still retaining a sharpness not possible with a plastic camera. 

Tomorrow, at some point, I have to venture into my attic to see what I can fish out. I know there are a couple of other old cameras upstairs that might be worth investigating. I have some ideas where I want to start content-wise, so I'll just head in the right direction and start shooting. I hear the weather is supposed to cooperate for the next couple of days. 

Well folks, it is 8:15 at night, and I am exhausted. I tried to go to bed early last night, as I was about to pass out tired, but I stayed up past the window of opportunity and then couldn't sleep. It's the equivalent of my Friday night and I will probably spend it in bed, possibly watching something on Netflix.

Stay, With the Demons You Drown

I went out on Friday night. I finally got my car back (it has been out of commission for over a week while my dad waited for the part for the air-conditioning compressor) and I was so excited about being mobile on my own terms again. I went to the new Yazoo Brewery to meet some friends, and some new people I hadn't met before. The new place is nice, even though it doesn't quite have the same crumbling-factory cool factor, but I think it will settle into itself eventually. I ran into some friends of friends and things were going quite well, although I still didn't really feel myself again. After the one beer (and a tiny freebie), I started to feel hungry, which as you probably know these days, is somewhat of an event. We decided to go to Broadway Brewhouse. Back at Yazoo, this drunk hippyish guy decided to latch onto me and came to BBH with us. He was really getting on my nerves after a while, although before he was quite as hammered, he could at least hold an interesting conversation. He came and sat down at our table with us. There were only two friends there I actually knew, and before I got my food, I started to feel overwhelmed. The place started getting busier and busier and it felt like all my emotions were crashing down on me. Post food, when my other friend got there, I started to lose it. I started ranting about what had happened and how I was sick of people telling me what I should feel or that I shouldn't feel, or that I should get over it. He said, quite rightly, that I felt like my feelings were being invalidated, and that if I wasn't upset, he would worry more about me right now. Still, I knew I had to get out of there as quickly as possible. The waitress took forever with the check and I ended up losing it and sobbing on his shoulder before I could make my escape.

I felt awful at the time because I felt like I had failed in my attempt to go out, distract myself, and try to have fun. Last night, as a contrast, I decided, after work, to go to Trader Joe's and the nice wine store and stock up on, yes, you guessed it: wine, chicken and bread. I drank enough wine to kill a small horse and managed to eat something, and talked on the phone and tried once again, to make sense of everything. The same friend whose shoulder I cried on suggested that I find a way to distract myself that didn't involve drinking, smoking, or general wallowing. He was so nice about it, that the idea did in fact creep into my head and stay there. It must have hibernated overnight.

This morning, I woke up hungry and ate a meager but serviceable breakfast, and it felt like something inside me had changed, although I didn't quite know what yet. When I got to work this morning, I put my hot water in the microwave to get it boiling for tea as usual, took it out and spilled the boiling water all over my hand. I spent the first half of the day trying to type with a big wad of paper towels and ice wrapped around it. Still I worked, and the breakfast and tea made me feel better.

Sometime this afternoon, an epiphany of sorts hit me, and I'm not sure quite how or why my attitude changed. I have been productive in applying for jobs, but that hasn't distracted me quite effectively enough. I decided I need something that will both get me out of the house, but not require me to be around booze or people, take my time, and get my creative juices flowing. 

I have been bitching about being poor and lusting over the Nikon D60 and other digital SLRs. Well, right now, I can't afford one, but I do have many interesting and quirky medium format film cameras that I can use to work out my demons over the next couple of weeks. I haven't felt a need to be creative in a long time, and it seems that trauma and emotional upheaval causes that need to appear. Tomorrow I am taking a camera with me to work, and I would like to use the best part of the evening, just before it gets dark, to take some pictures and see where it goes. I think the plastic cameras might be the best medium anyway, because they take away control and make a photographer go with chance and emotion. I have been so frightened of taking pictures because I told myself for years I wasn't any good and then I told myself after years of not doing it, that I wouldn't be as good now as I was ten years ago. I think that's absolute rubbish. I just have to give myself a chance to dust off the cobwebs and get the creative juices flowing and that's what I plan to do. I am almost relieved to have this need inside to create and work at something that has given me so much pleasure, and was once a passion of mine. It seems like I haven't felt that way in a long time, and if this is a side-effect of everything I've been through in the past couple of months, then it's a very welcome one. When one door closes, another one opens. I must remember my own advice to a friend who was getting a divorce a few months ago: "The universe will provide."

Renewal

So, today I was stuck at home, apart from a short walk to the Piggly Wiggly, which was, I hate to admit, to buy a Vitamin Water and a pack of Camel Crush. The weather outside was beautiful, and I spent much of it sunning myself outside on my front porch, in between bouts of coordinating recommendation letters, CV, and cleaning and laundry.

I spent much of the day on the phone, to people who I talk to often, and to some people I don't. I had a long long talk today with an ex-boyfriend and once great love, who knows me well enough and has been through enough with me and since me to give me an excellent perspective on my current situation. It's good to hear from someone who has been in a relationship with you and loved you how you will recover and what you deserve in life. I can't quite articulate what makes that different from talking to just friends, but it's something about the shared intimacy and knowledge of how you are within that particular realm of relationships that no one else really has. He told me some things about myself that others haven't really picked up on and I am grateful for his bluntness (which has been at times a double-edged sword).

A very good friendship of mine has suffered a mutual neglect on behalf of both parties since her move up north, but today we talked like friends who haven't skipped a beat. It was good to hear a familiar, yet missed voice, especially one so feisty and sunny. I know she too is going through difficulties, so it was good to talk, rant, and catch up.

Tonight I was talking to my pseudo-sister, who doesn't read my blog, but that's not really her bag exactly. We talk all the time, and she is going through a heart-wrenching separation because her boyfriend has gone to South America to make money. She feels as though money is the mistress, and she has been abandoned for its siren call. I feel like crap, and I'm struggling to deal with what happened, so it is good to talk to others and hear what they are going through.

I haven't written the particulars of what happened after the breakup. I didn't really get an explanation apart from "we don't work as a couple," which to me seems like a lame cop-out excuse, almost like the famous post-it note breakup from Sex and the City. I guess he chose to deliver that verbal post-it note in person and that makes him feel better about himself - nothing like getting dumped in your own living room. It's a cop out because we did work, on many many levels, but I'm not going to get into that. He also apparently didn't take it lightly.

Flash forward. Three days later: I am devastated, driving home from my parents' house, where I had just collapsed in a crying fit on their kitchen floor; I'm smoking in the car, which I don't normally do,and remembering I had told my friend I would go out with her that night. Every bone in my body wanted not to, to just go home, get under the covers and make it all go away. But, I called her back, still crying and still a mess. She said, "oh honey, he's not worth it." "Yes, yes he is," I said. She then revealed to me that on the dating website she had recently joined, he had come up the day before as her top match. Two days. I drank a Guinness that night at an Irish bar, and it slowly sank into my body, my body that hadn't eaten for close to three days. It's taken a little longer for reality to start to sink in.

I don't want to date anyone. The thought makes me feel ill, but I have a friend who says that in times like this, you should do something that makes you feel uncomfortable every day. I had a profile on the aforementioned dating website, and going on there to see for my own eyes meant reactivating it, and once I did, I couldn't deactivate it for a week. Well today I got sick of seeing him come up as a match for me, especially since I've tried to hide him and it doesn't take, so I decided to try searching another site, just to see if it was the same set of dufusses (sp?) on there, and sure enough, up he comes again. I got angry because it said he was active during the last 30 days, which could mean after, or perhaps before we broke up.I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, but you know, I did that for a couple of months and I'm a little tired of that approach.

So those of you who know me know I have this weirdo mystical astrology loving, tarot card reading side. I was angry and emotional and decided to do a reading, just out of anger and a need for some clarity, whether imagined or real. Sometimes you just need a touchstone.

Here's what it said. We're going with traditional Celtic Cross reading, which if you're curious, you can find an explanation of the layout here.

My card: 4 of wands - marriage, party, celebration of things well done
Crossing: Wheel of Fortune - letting the world turn, achieving balance between love and hate
Subconscious: The Star - a time of healing and hope, things will start to go right
Conscious: The 2 of Cups - love, union - the Romeo and Juliet card
Recent Past: Queen of Wands - getting what you want, finding your true nature (I am a redheaded Aries, so this is my card)
Near Future: Ten of Pentacles - the good life, financial security and a sense of happy well-being
Present Situation: King of Pentacles - man involved with money, steady, fastidious, or acting that way
Surrounding: Magician - someone using power, good or evil, getting in tune with your own powers, can mean trickery and secrets
Hopes and Fears: Judgement - change and renewal, reaping the seeds of your actions, a resurrection of sorts
Outcome: The Tower - sudden and forced change, something will happen to force me out of stagnation, usually it will cause chaos and trauma, but it is usually for the best, the stripping down of old and outworn structures.

I do readings fairly often, and I regularly do them for other people, but I did this one is such a state of emotion and I was really passionate about it, that it came out as feeling somehow profound and right and I should pay attention, plus the cards I got seemed right and seemed to be telling me something. They are all very powerful, not messing around cards. The Tower card is seen as the most frightening card in the deck, but I am relieved to get it because I feel in such a state of stagnation, on such a mental merry-go-round, that I really need something to force some change in my life.

Now, when that happens, remind me I said that.

Well, goodnight, I must go to bed because I have to get up in five and a half hours, even though these days I am almost never tired enough.

Quotes from Persuasion

You can always trust Jane Austin to say it so succinctly. Here are some quotes from her last and darkest novel, Persuasion, from its sensible and quiet heroine, Ann Elliott:

"Once there were no two hearts so open, no feelings so in harmony, but now we are strangers, worse than strangers; it is perpetual estrangement."

"The one claim I shall make for my own sex is that we love longest, when all hope is gone"

"Time is a great healer, or so at least I am told."

Feeling Good

The job search is proving fruitful. I have two recommendation letters in hand, and promises of at least three more, so I am sitting in good shape. It feels good to have accomplished something today. And to those of you who said I burnt my bridges, I say, my bridges are in very good operational state, thank you very much, and the flow of traffic is steady. That's bitchy, but I just have to get it out there. The two recommendations I have so far are probably more glowing than I think I deserve, and I am grateful to my former professors for helping me out so quickly. Two of the jobs were just posted the other day and have a deadline of March 31st, so it doesn't give me much time to get it all together, considering getting recommendations is usually like herding cats, and went disastrously the last time I attempted it. However I have asked many more people than I need, so I should have the basics covered.

Still can't eat anything, but I think today that's because I am excited about the prospect of finding a new job. I should perhaps think about doing that soon before I make myself sick from too much tea drinking.

Better Day

Today was a little better. I'm getting there, although tonight I'm exhausted and ready to go to bed. Friends said I looked more like myself again, like the spark is coming back, and it is, bit by bit. Same story tonight though with the food - came home, ate chicken, now I feel sick. I'm sure that will change eventually and I will enjoy food again.

I'm sure I must have to go through this for a reason, that there is a meaning to finding such happiness and losing it inexplicably and suddenly. What that meaning is, right now, I don't have a clue, but I have to believe it leads to better things. I have to believe that. If I don't, I will just cry, and I don't want any more of that going on tonight.

Thank God for Pandora. I can't listen to anything on my itunes. I can't even look at itunes right now, so Pandora is the only thing that I don't have to think about, but will play (mostly) music that is just pure me, and that is what I need right now. I have to be thankful for the little things: Pandora, cat curled up on feet, two confirmed recommendation letters, and hopefully more to come, a job well done today, and more to do tomorrow, good friends and family who are working diligently to stitch me back up again.

Tomorrow is laundry and cleaning the hell out of the house. I think it will do me good. I can't go anywhere because I don't have a car, so I have to stay here and get things done, but at least I don't have to go to work.

On another note, maybe things are going right in the world because healthcare reform passed today. I'm glad. I hope it will save some lives, and soon. Working in healthcare has clued me in even more to the sad realization of the price arbitrarily put on people's health, well-being, and even lives. It really does sicken me and I hope to be out of it soon. I can go to bed happy about that.

Bad day

Apparently that's what I get when I get near a computer and still have the ability to type drunk. Today has been a pretty awful day. Nothing bad has happened, but I have been in a rotten, inconsolable mood all day. I've tried to dispel it with no success. I need something else to focus on, but I don't have anything. I lie - I can distract myself by applying for jobs there's actually a good chance I can get, and I think that will be my focus tomorrow. Today is just a wash. I basically came home, ate chicken, and cried. I was actually hungry - that's happened occasionally during the past two weeks - but I'm not eating habitually, so when I do, it makes me feel nauseous, and my stomach is not the most sane of creatures at the best of times. However, my skinnier jeans fit, quite well now, and I guess I'm on my way to the much skinnier 2006 jeans, which I have of course, kept. Peeking silver lining.

My car is still dead too, so I have a week or so of essentially being stranded at my house, which is good for the cat, but terrible for me. Well maybe not. I've tried to go out this week and distract myself. I went to Flying Saucer's trivia night, and I even ventured out for a Guinness on St. Patrick's, although that was a mistake because I just had a rotten time.

Tomorrow night's plan of action is to ask for recommendation letters for three jobs I'm applying for, fill out the applications, and sort out my CV so it looks as good as the resume I did last week. I'm quite proud of my resume now. On Tuesday, it looks like I will be stuck here, so I plan to clean the house, listen to music loudly, and sort out my head. I was supposed to have an appointment with the head of graduate studies, but I have to postpone because I have no way to get out there. I guess I just have to listen to my mother and place distractions in my head, even if it doesn't seem like they will actually distract me. At least they will fill the time and prevent my mind from racing around in circles.

Anyway, I'll quit moaning, take some IB Profen PM, knock myself out, and get up and go to work tomorrow. One foot in front of the other. I think about What About Bob: "baby steps to the car."

It's been a year since I've posted on this blog. Am I resurrecting something that's already dead? If so, perhaps that's a theme in my life. Perhaps I am an emotional Frankenstein's monster. You knew it was the monster and not Frankenstein himself, right?

Well that's what you get when you can drink a litre bottle of Gruner Vetleiner and still be conscious. I have to work tomorrow too.

This used to be my Myspace blog. Do you remember Myspace? I remember that it was what the Facebook is now. I wonder what the new Facebook will be. In truth, I'm really sick of it all right now, but I need an outlet to write something, as my friends either are, or soon will be, sick of dealing with me.

I just went through a break-up, and to use cricket terminology, it's knocked me for six. Considering the large amount of wine I have drank and the food I haven't eaten for the past two weeks, I don't want to get into it. I could, but anyone who cares is tired of hearing about it, perhaps even me. I just need to listen to more Snow Patrol, smoke more cigarettes I shouldn't, drink some more Guinness, and eat more chicken and bread, which are the only things that don't taste like cardboard right now. I'm writing this to try to make sense of the whole thing, but even in a drunken state, it doesn't seem like a worthy endevour.

I should just go to bed and go to sleep. I have to get up and work a pointless job tomorrow, so I should be responsible against the odds. Last week I took two days off for a stomach virus. I think I had one, but it could have just been heartache, as I still feel the same and I can't eat. My friends are trying to feed me and I am not interested.