clickmom

flying

I flew to hipster U. and back twice this week.  Naturally, I cried silently to myself on the way to the airport for the first flight convinced tht Evan, who was accompanying me, and I would die in a fiery plane crash.  Once at the airport I composed a text message to Matt telling him that if his brother and I died en route to see him in his play that he and Josh should know that being their mother was my life time dream and that I was proud of them every single day.

Ev and I got to hipster U intact and Matt never said a word about the text.  I figured my last words to Matt being in a text was a very 21st century way to go.  In the 20th century we could pry the last word bearing mini cassettes out of our answering machines, now we can take a screen capture of our mobile phones and printout multiple copies. 

Matt was great in his play.  He played a  suit wearing serious grim character.  I think he could be easily typecast that way.  He looked so handsome with his hair cut short.  It's been a long time since I've gotten to see his whole face and I like it that way.  Nothing was more torturous to me as a parent needing to connect to my kid than the first time Matt grew his hair out really long and let it hang straight down his face without pushing it to the side.  I recall telling him over and over that I had to see at least one eye before I could talk to him.

The second time I flew out to hipster U. was to bring Matt home.  And now he's here!  Hurray!  I got to hipster U. yesterday but Matt was terribly busy. I told him I'd keep myself occupied, so I searched the web for some formal gardens to photograph and found something that sounded worthwhile.  The day before I left the forecast was cooperating too.  It was supposed to overcast, which is my preferred formal garden photographing type of light.  I got off the plane and it was downpouring.  I sat in the rental car planning how I'd wait until the rain stopped and then photograph the soggy gardens until the nice soft light of just finished raining clouds.  I started my hour long journey to the gardens and before long the skies dried and there was thick gray cloud layer over everything.  Then the clouds parted and there were big bouncy clouds, which could still work as long as I was patient and waited for the shade to roll through before I pressed the shutter button.  By the time I got to the gardens the sky was cloudless.  I hadn't brought my UV filter either dammit.  Immediately I realized that the formal garden part of this garden was tiny.  Damn.  Then I lifted my camera to my face to shoot and realized that I had left my super wide angle lens on my camera the last time I went out shooting. Triple damn. I also left my flash at home.  Damn to the fourth degree.  

Not having a kid who currently needed me anyway, I did walk the garden loop while shooting a few photos despite the unwanted sunshine, lack of filter, and wrong lens.  It's tough to hold a camera steady while kicking yourself, so I have low expectations for the few photos I did manage to take.  Today, however, I am going to another place to shoot.  It is not a formal garden, but a farm.  My current photo teacher has generously offered to meet the class there since the art center cancelled classes because of some event they are having.  I plan on getting there early to do some solo shooting in a lower light. I'm still feeling my way around what I am shooting, since I feel the need to define what I am shooting before I go out and shoot it thinking that next fall I will need to write an artist statement about my work when I reapply to Y@le and maybe two other esteemed institutions just for back up.  (But really, I only want to go to Y@le)  

 

cloudy

My very first boyfriend married his partner this weekend.  I hope Joey and Roberto have a long and happy life together.  I'm wondering if my ability to befriend gay guys is me needing to befriend gay guys or if gay guys just happen to like me.  One of my openly (open to me at least)  gay college friends used to beg me to spend the night in bed with him.  I always suspected he just wanted the football players down the hall to notice me doing the walk of shame the next morning.  Now I'm wondering.  Maybe I'm a gay dude stuck in a chubby middle aged chick's body.   

Never mind, if I was a gay guy I'd do stuff like decorate, shop, coordinate my outfits, use hair products.  I'm not a gay guy. I'm not even a metrosexual guy.  I'm a hipster.  Just like Matt.

Maybe I'm just so smoking hot everyone falls helpless to my hotness.

Somewhere in this blog is the story of how once I thought I had joined the friendliest gym on the planet but then I realized I had joined the gay/lesbian gym and the friendly ladies in the locker room were really just sizing me up.

Head in the clouds?  Yes, that is me.

MILF?

Yoda made a pass at me last night.

Kind of "Dammit!" because Yoda and his techniques are unique to him.  Yoda made it all up and I can't go somewhere else to get the same kind of training.

In some ways it was validating because my creep-meter had been going off for a while now and I wasn't trusting my instincts (always a big mistake, my instincts never fail me).  Also, holy freaking crap, this man who sees me in the most embarrassing poses ever still thinks I'm that kind of hot??

I kept it mostly inside last night.  I did mention to the husband that Yoda had been extra -what ever he is- though.  I finally couldn't hold it in any more this morning (needed to sort out if I could possibly continue to train with him despite) and I told lil sis (distracted) and also the editor (working)  and peanut (who had company over and couldn't talk) and finally (in a moment of transference where I felt a dudes opinion would be a good thing and I wished I was seeing my old stepford chiro) I told my new new town chiro.

Then I told the husband that Yoda was trying to convince me to kiss him and his reaction was quite the disappointment.  The husband's reaction ran somewhere along the lines of "Yeah, so what?"  While I told the husband because he isn't a hot head who might grab a rifle and shoot Yoda in cold blood I would have appreciated at least maybe threat to kick Yoda's ass with his size 15 orthopedic - I have second degree burns on the bottom of my feet- post surgery booties or any other reaction as highly improbably as it might sound,  but at least demonstrating a teeny tiny tid bit of manly-don't mess with my woman-possessiveness or even some very flattering jealousy.  I got bupkus.

In the end I'm taking the new chiro's advice and putting my foot down with Yoda, demanding a solely professional relationship and leaving him if he makes me uncomfortable.  

year of the candle

I was putting Josh to bed tonight and he sang out "Year of the candle."  I asked what he meant and he said "You know the song!"  

Oh, that song.

click

I saw (and heard) David Sedaris speak last night.  Hilarious in a "I can't believe he just said that" kind of way.  I got three of his books.  He did a big long segment on going to an English taxidermy shop in search of an owl (which is illegal in the states and also France) and all I could think between laughing and snorting out loud was how much I very desperately wanted to hang out with David Sedaris.  Can you imagine me and David hunting down stuffed endangered species?  Or as he called them "flying predators of the night."  Me and David would have been a heavenly pairing.  Also, when he finally found the owl there were two in the shop and you know I would have gone home with the other owl.

Before I spent 90 minutes trying not to pee in my pants from David Sedaris induced hysterical laughing I took myself to the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens.  I also took my camera.  I AM BACK.  It was a dry winter, photographically, but my head is getting back into the right place and the right place feels great.  I never say victory until I download the shots and really take a careful look, but if the postage sized (old camera) screen on the back of my camera is any indication, it was a successful afternoon of shooting.

A faux photographer from the paper asked me if I could photoshop her kid into a group picture for her.  I said I hadn't done it before but would look at some on line tutorials and give it the old college try.  Guess what I know how to do now!  I'm hoping the faux photographer is so happy to see her kid in the group picture that she doesn't notice I amputated his right hand.  It's barely noticeable.  For Real.  Group pictures are all about the face anyway.

I'm spending way too much time playing Words With Friends.  It's so 21st century.  

missing the roids

When I opened the front door at 8:45 this morning for my new new town friend I didn't realize it was odd to be eating a fudgicle until I registered my friend's curious stare.  I said "PMS, absolutely neccessary."  She asked what it was and I said it was a fat free dairy free fudgicle and she said "I have PMS too."  I pointed "Want one?"  She nodded and I knew I had made a friend for life.  I can't believe what great people I am meeting here.   This might seem odd coming from me, but I would have trouble forming a deep bond with the kind of person who doesn't really eat.  There are plenty of those around here.  I'm thinking of photographing them once it warms up again and they take off their layers of clothes.  I want to see their furry malnourished arm fuzz.  Around here they probably get their winter coats of arm fuzz lasered off though.  I'll have to settle for their bones.  Okay.  Settled.

My work space is so freaking close to being finished.  I'm hoping to put the finishing touches on it this weekend so that I can start printing in it next week. 

I went to a photo class today.  It is supposed to be advanced, but there was a guy there who only shoots on automatic and does not speak photo lingo.  Not sure if he is the only one that inexperienced or not.  I think I'll be fine there because the teacher pretty much just critques our stuff, and she did ask us what we wanted to leave the class having a better grasp on, and I think she is going to take that seriously.  I said I wanted to shoot more than just pretty pictures.  I want to shoot photos that also have a personal narrative.  I think that right now making yourself exposed and maybe even vulnerable is part of the whole artist package.  Art for art's sake isn't enough in a digital age where everyone thinks they can do what you do.  The teacher noticed my strong composition.  She wants me to challenge myself and not use the same formula for every shot.  We'll see how that goes.  I don't have a formula per se, it is just that I have a recognizeable consistent sense of balance.  (One reason why I hated it when they used to crop my photos in the paper)  I think, if we start picking my images apart that we'll see my "formula" is more than composition, I think there will be predictable color distribution and maybe even camera angles. (I'm thinking my photojournalism stuff)  Anyway, after this class I think I'll probably try to take some classes at a college.  Also, there is a group here that I haven't joined becuase it meets late in the day when I am tired, brain dead and undressed,  but I am going to have to leave my jammies in the bedroom and start going to those meetings.  They have some talented people in that group.  (At least they look impressive according to the photos posted on their web site)

I miss the steroids.  I felt really good while taking them,  I need to discuss this with a doctor.  I'd like to feel that good every day.

unlost

Once again I lost a post last night.  sigh.  I told you that bear bait limped after our walk again.  I told you a few moe things too but I'm having a soon to be senior moment here.  I want to tell you about the freak dieter I met who judged women she knows that stay skinny by eating only soup even though the woman in question is getting INJECTIONS of pregnancy hormone and eating only 500 calories a day to lose weight.  It was a little like the world turned upside down for a moment.  I couldn't tell which way was up and finally decided nothing was.  If I had choose one method I'd go with the soup.  There will be no shots for me.  I can't believe I even thought that one over.

My lap top is pissing me off.  It won't recognize a card reader and I'm preety sure that is an apple issue with the updated software.  I gotta get on it.  I also have to get me butt in photographic gear.  I've been slacking off.  Bad me!

 

 

release yourselves butt cheeks!

Here is the stuff I don't say on facebook:  For some slipped disc pelvic shift related reason my tiny little butt cheeks are on total lock down.   My fat less butt halves are squeezed together so tight that I can barely stand to sit on them.  Also, I notice myself walking like my mom used to walk, so I assume she was tight butted her whole life.  Please release yourselves butt cheeks!  I tried to stretch them, I tried to massage them, but they refuse to relent.

Other than the whole butt cheek ordeal I am slowly making my way back to a normal upright life.  Today I managed to stay out of bed the whole day.  I hope I don't end up paying for it.  I walked bear bai this morning.  I did a bunch of standing around.  I tried not to sit in one place for too long.   My tush gets kind of numb when I'm sitting because of it's clenched state.  My sides finally stopped spasming and also my hips.  So, I'm getting there. I have two more days of steroids to go.  The steroids helped so much I'm afraid to go off them.  Not kidding.  AT least I'll be going back to the prescription pad holding doctor next week, so if I'm not okay off of them I can figure out plan B.

slipped disc

I threw my back out Sunday night.  And by "threw my back out" I mean slipped a disc so obviously that my right hip is jutting out way way over to the side.  Every muscle in my torso is cramping up.  I can barely go from standing to lying down and even more painful is getting up from lying down.  Sitting is ridicuous, but sometimes I have to sit between lying and standing just to redistribute my spine in such a way that it is possible for me to stand.  I've come pretty close to passing out because of the intensity of the pain.  I "walk" with a strange knees together gait, and I feel like I am so twisted that I could easily end up hobbling around in circles.

At first I was depressed.  Feeling paralyzed by pain, unable to sleep I lay here with the sinking feeling that this could happen to me again and again, even when I'm old.  It was almost too much for me.  I went to the chiroprator Monday and then again today.  Today he did something that totally helped me be a wee bit straighter and he also made an appointment for me with an orthopaedist so I could get my hands on some 'roids.

I tore into those 'roids the moment I sat down in the car to go home.  Bring on the mood swings, extra hair, weight gain, and coffee grind vomit!  I'm taking every single one of those pills.  It's been 4 1/2 hours since the first dose and I am pretty sure I feel a tid bit of relief already.  I'm keeping the doc with the prescription pad on speed dial.  I liked him a lot because he also grew up in the city and also because he went to the sister high school of my high school.  He was on the young side, and that is not a plus for an ageist like me, but in this case I'm willing to forgive.

One horrible aspect of this ordeal, outisde the pain has been the inability to put on my own undies and pants.  The first morning the husband went to work, so I had to ask Josh to help me out. Luckily he is still in therapy because of last year's bullying situation.  I know now by the painful grimace on Josh's baby face that he is too old to be near a towel clad me.  When did that happen?  

This morning I asked the husband to help me out in the undies department before he went to work.  I handed him my undies in the right position, and he ended up doing something weird with them.  I figured he just didn't like me showing him how to do it because he is that kind of a guy.  All morning I noticed my underwear in my butt crack and riding up my right butt cheek, but thought the undies had somehow gotten twisted on my twisted self.  When I went to the bathroom before going to the doctor this afternoon I noticed that my torso was through a leg hole and my leg was through the waist band of my undies.  Luckily today's undies are the stretchy kind.  Also lucky for me the doctor did not require me to undress.  My undies were also inside out.   I was worried all the way over to my appointment about having to describe how it was my husbands fault that I am wearing undies like a self dressing toddler and also needing to ask the nurse to hold up my undies for me to get dressed.  

I'm very excited right now because I am due for another dose of the roids.  Fingers crossed! 

asslessness

So about Yoda, my jedi master of personal training, who is currently doing an excellent job of whipping me back into shape.  Yoda is not American by birth and definitely not American in attitude.   Yoda is also a touchy feely kind of guy, but it's almost like a kid being touchy feely.  I've seem Yoda with other clients, he is the same way with all of us.  Men too.  I think it's innocent.  

The other day Yoda demonstrated one of his moves for me to do and then he sat down to watch me do the move.  I'm doing my best and all of a sudden Yoda starts to laugh.  I say "What?" and he laughs out "Your ass! It has no fat!  Oh my god, I just noticed.  Your ass has no fat!"  I thanked him for pointng out my asslessness and suggested he throw in some exercises to create an ass for me.  (Where is the JLo machine when you need it?) Yoda promised he would.  Then today I showed up with an almost thrown out back (@#$%&*!) so Yoda guided me through some stretching exercises instead of our usual grueling workout.  What does he spend the last ten minutes doing?  Describing the cushionlessness of my rear view and laughing at the cuteness of my tiny little gluteus minimus because I squeezed it while doing some move he was telling me to do.

This is going to be a trip.