clickmom

In search of my chance

 So here is a (not at all) fun fact. Apparently I am very sensitive to altitude and altitude sickness. I have been in Santa Fe for 36 hours. I’ve had a headache for 34 hours my feet are swollen my face is swollen and now I’m getting nosebleeds. Altitude sickness sucks and I will probably not find myself living in Santa Fe ever. 

I’m participating in a portfolio review. So far I’ve seen three reviewers and it’s been all good. My fears of being written off or put down have been for nothing. I do have 6 reviews to go though. But, since the heart racing and trembling part of altitude sickness only lasted for about 20 hours I’m feeling better equipped to go in there, present myself and not give a damn if someone doesn’t have positive things to say and embrace the helpful advice. Most of the photographers seem very nice. Though everyone is getting tired after the first day and now people are being more real with each other. It will be interesting to see how my reviews at the end of the day go because I suspect the reviewers will be even more frazzled than the photographers. 

In the mean time, im just doing my best here. Fingers crossed that I meet the right person who is interested in promoting my work. You never know. 

even prettier

Today was one of those days when something came out of my mouth completely spontaneous and it was so shocking that it stopped me dead in my tracks and caused my brain to sputter to the extent that I have no idea what the response to my uncharacteristically bold statement was.

It all started innocently enough, I was in the pharmacy and still feeling quite good over yesterday's love fest with Chris and Christian from the office supply store so I began a lively chat with the cashier and the guy sporting a shoulder surgery sling in line behind me. (I really wanted to know if he was there picking up opioids) Eventually, I turned to leave, with a big smile on my face only to see that before I could make it to the exit there was a woman standing behind a card table set up with a table cloth and some gift bags. I looked to see what she was doing and she asked "Would you like a beauty bag?" To which I answered "Will it make me even prettier?"

Note: I had not showered, my greasy hair was pulled tightly back, with bumps, I had been driving with the window open, I was wearing sweatpants and I still had my hiking boots on from sweet pea's morning hike. Sexy.

There is a slight chance the teenager on my heels choked on her own saliva upon hearing my response, but maybe my imagination just saw the flying saliva in the air there for comedic relief because in my head I was thinking EVEN PRETTIER? Where  did this confidence and sassy attitude come from? I was so dumbfounded over the words which so casually flew from my mouth that I didn't hear a word the lady behind the card table said but when she held the pink plastic bag in front of my face I did accept the beauty bag which turned out to be pharmacy type items, and now I have a nice assortment of travel sized stuff like lotions and conditioner to take with me to the portfolio review. And a lip gloss, which I did try just to confirm that YES I still detest the feeling of goop on my lips. 

Even prettier! I amuse myself.

all about

Right now if you put me next to a non dairy (fell off the wagon last Sunday and paid for it with PAIN for 4 days) chocolate fountain with an unmeltable straw I would completely suck that fountain dry. I was going to say probably but you know this is not a probably situation. For sure I'd even manage to snarf down all of the gluten free dipping offerings, like strawberries and marshmallows and I hope pineapple, because sometimes chocolate alone is not enough! 

Today at the dog park I found out that a woman I have known for years grows and sells pot. Trying not to let that revelation color my opinion on her. I mean, is she gutsy and cooler than I thought or stupid, OH MY GOD you could go to jail!! You see what I mean? I hope she doesn't get caught and I hope that this state legalizes it.

I've been carrying a bottle of dog shampoo around in my camera bag because sweet pea keeps rolling in things and the hose in the dog park is still on and I have been known to soap up/rinse her head,back and neck before allowing her into my vehicle. I was just heading for the hose when the dentist called to tell me that I was late for the appointment I thought was at 1:30 which was actually for 10:30 so I zipped over the dentist. I've been sporting a temporary fake tooth since last December and am finally getting it finalized in porcelain. The husband came to get stinking sweet pea from my car and ended falling in the dentist parking lot. He skinned a knee and an elbow. Idiot thought he could lift 55 pound sweet pea out of my back seat. WTF? Please dear universe and goddess of growing old with grace and dignity let me accept any future limitations which I may have and know when to ask for help. I can't believe he got away with only a skinned knee and elbow. Taking care of him really tests me. Every minute of every day. I yearn to scream.

Also, I went to my local office supply store, where I had been earlier in the week and was told by an employee that they could print me the XL postcards I wanted to take with me to the portfolio review next week. So, since the lady said they could even do it while I waited, I didn't rush back. Me and my preloaded thumb drive meandered in to the office supply store today, all tired and brain fuzzy because thanks to my special kind of head, I have been staying up late and waking up at 5AM for two days in a row. There was a line and I grabbed an office to chair to sit in while I waited in line. Another woman came in right on my tail and I told the guys behind the desk to take her first because I knew I was going to be there a while with my job and everyone was so freaking impressed by my generous gesture. I told them, Hey, we are all in this together and I have all the time in the world. Really, between you and me, I knew I had a big job and was going to be slightly fussier than most about the image quality, I'd be taking up some time there at the desk, I wasn't in the mood for anyone to give me the stink eye, and the woman looked to have a quick in and out kind of situation (which, she did)  and it was actually no big deal Besides, that office chair had completely embraced my big old tired buns and I was perfectly content. So, after the woman who was technically after me went I was greeted warmly by the staff. 

Tip of the day: when you're about to make the 20 year old office supply store employee print your image in three different densities on both the color printer and the dedicated black and white printer it pays to make him like you so much that he wishes that you were his cool friendly people loving mother- before you get demanding, in the sweetest way, of course. Also, smile a lot. Cliche, I know, but effective.

I totally befriended them. We showed each other our dog's pictures, I called his dog a cutie patootie, and by the end I was calling out, BYE Christian and Chris! See you guys tomorrow! as I strolled out the door. But, I'm getting ahead of myself. The girl from Monday lied to me! They could not make my XL postcards in one day. SO I went with regular size postcards, which can't be made in one day either, but I can pick them up tomorrow, which is comfortably 5 days before I leave for the portfolio review. After letting the lady who was technically after me go first I realized my cover as the chillest customer ever would be totally blown if I made a fuss, so I just let it all roll off my back. I was cool. Christian helped me make a business card, Chris advised me that it was fine to write "insta" instead of full out "instagram" and that anyone on instagram would totally know what I meant, and in the end, they were super sweet to me, and I was the nicest customer of the day right back and all of this, every single moment was all thanks to politics. This insane situation make me want to be so nice that no one can go nuts and open fire on me. Because really, at this point, aren't we all a little nuts? Everyone on both sides... coo coo for coco puffs.

The problem with being a morning person who hasn't been sleeping well is that there is no such thing as a second wind in the evening. I can actually say that barring a Venti beverage in the late afternoon I don't believe I can ever recall having a second wind in the evening. 

Too bad too because I missed an opening of an MFA grad who lives not too far away from me tonight. I was totally going to go, but was distracted by my pit stench (I may have done some nervous sweating around the postcard production) and brain deadness. I'm assuming her show will be up for a while and will try to get there once this portfolio review is behind me. 

I'm pretty freaking excited for the review. I'm really looking forward to it. It's been a while since I got to be all about me.

truthfully, it doesn't take much to bring the tears these days

So. I finished printing up two separate portfolios and 24 little books, which I still have to fold and make envelopes for. I'm pretty freaking proud over the portfolios. I think they look great and am practicing (in my head) speaking about them to the reviewers. One the one hand I have such high hopes for a fulfilling session with great feedback and encouragement and on the other hand I am fearful about meeting with people who are apathetic and uninterested, and as these words leave my finger tips I am realizing that I may be projecting my current life situation onto the review. OK. Problem solved. 

But my stuff looks good, and this makes me want to dance in my chair!! Yeah baby.

There isn't a chance in heck that I am not going to show up to this review with more work than I need. I am already laughing at myself. I have scoped out my current hang bag, satchel, carry case situation and have this all strategically planned for a couple of things.

Cards and printouts for everyone! (And special little books for reviews or other people who seem to possibly want to further my career) There will be business cards, tiny little photos, and 5.5 x 8.5 postcards. Just about the only thing I haven't decided to bring are actual thumb drives loaded with photographs. 

Also, I am going to be true to myself and dress every day of the portfolio review in head to toe black. Bless my sweet little self, dressing in black will help me remain calm and be true to myself.  As a kid I never had black clothes and I remember the first time I saw a black shirt in the store. I wanted it like I never wanted a shirt before and asked my mom for it. She said Black clothes for kids? I don't think so... I was crushed. Somehow my little girl self knew it was my comfort color. Also, the goddess told me today that she started to wear nicer clothes (a slick black blazer shoe bought on sale) and wear make up and felt like the world was treating her better. So, inspired by the goddess, I will bring my nicer black clothes with me (hopefully they fit) and just try to put my most artistic and fancy feet (an issue when you have some size 12 feet) forward. Also, I got a hair cut a couple of weeks ago thinking that it would be good to have a hair style that is more styled than the long hair I was sporting which hadn't been cut since last May. It was a tad bit overdue.

The only thing I am dreading is the bathing suit issue. I hear the hot tub at the hotel is a must do event and there is some kind of hot tub restaurant that I'll probably go to gritting my teeth and pretending to be unaware of my extra lumpy body. I don't mind the big as much as I mind the lumpy. Really, trust me, I'm lumpy. But, I'll do the thing I advise others to do and fake comfortableness in my own skin and confidence and then I know in my heart folks will notice less, and in the end I will concentrate on everything other than my desire to blanket myself in anything larger than a bathing suit or hide. It'll be fine. As soon as it's over!! Hahaha.

Evan went back to university this afternoon. I miss him already. I was so ... so... something... when that original plan got changed and he ended up home for 2 extra years and then it turned out that I really liked having him around. He made me feel safe in a way because when he isn't here I feel like the only grown up in the house with a frighteningly ill person who I am terrified about being responsible for. The husband falls often these days and the first couple of times I heard him thunk on the ground after Evan left I turned to call for Evan as I ran towards the husband and it was not a good feeling when I called "EH...." and had to stop myself.

Speaking of kids growing up. Josh said today that he wishes he could vote in the next election, and I realized that in 2018 he will only be a few months away from 18. WHAT THE HELL??  It's like being woken up from a coma and finding out my family is all grown up. I might need pharmaceuticals to get through this. (Just kidding! Seriously, I would not!!!) My baby, my sweet gigantic bruiser baby, sweet sweet baby is going to be 18?? All I can do is cry because I can't believe it's true.  

A few days after Josh was born I let the husband drag me to a hibachi place for dinner, where I saw a friend leaving with her almost grown strapping tall 3 young manly men sons and it sent me into a 4 day crying jag. I was crying because I knew that one day my own kids would be not babies anymore and it would happen in a blink of an eye. Dammit. It happened. I think I need a grand child.

 

precious things

I'm ....printing!  The book.  I like printing things myself instead of farming them out for a machine or someone else to print, except I just realized I do have to make business cards and postcards. I can't do those myself. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day. In the mean time this printing frenzy completely reminds me of printing my handmade book for my thesis project and that brings back really good memories. While on the one hand I was sad to while away my precious summer days inside I was also experiencing a real thrill of accomplishment and pride in my work. That was a really good looking project. I'm still proud of it.

So happy to be past yesterday. I told a couple of people that sweet pea is three now. Three! I can't believe it because she still feels kind of new, and three years (even though we got her in January so we haven't had her for three entire years yet) seems like a big number and also that she isn't a puppy any more and I still think of her as a puppy. I am so over the top in love with this dog. I even surprise myself. By extension I am feeling quite loving to any other dog too. Luckily I have a 1 dog policy and won't become a crazy dog lady living in  house of squalor surrounded by ...  Alright. Imagination time is over. Maybe one day when I'm old and lonely I'll get two tiny little yappy non allergenic dogs, but doubtful. Probably only 1. Also, I can't believe I am allergic to dogs. If you recall, at some point I went to an ENT for my super power hearing which occasionally pops on and then I can hear things like EVERYTHING like sound bouncing off the glass of the windows (I have echolocation!) and the sham doctor insisted that to assess me he needed an allergy test and they told me I am allergic to dogs. I said Well, that's too bad because I will have one forever which I probably will, but I might have to switch over to a non allergenic breed in the future. It's OK because one of sweet pea's besties is a freaking rock star shitsu/poodle and I dream about adopting him. 

I told the tale of the day I got bit by a shark to my friend at the dog park today. She was more struck how I was 8 and swimming in the ocean by myself and that lil sis was 6 and had gone to another hotel down the beach to frolic in their pool while my mother slept than the fact that I actually got bit by the shark. Sometimes people are less impressed because my shark wasn't a great white that I had to beat off with my bare fists. Recall: the shark grabbed my leg, pulled me under, gave me a few shakes and released me. I had no idea what happened and actually never even registered a feeling of pain in my leg until the doctors started to shoot it up with a numbing agent. Also, my friend is married to and the mother of doctors and she was appalled that they let lil sis and my mom in the operating room while they stitched me up. The fact that my leg healed perfectly and never had an issue is kind of miraculous. I'm a lucky girl.

My friend found a treasure trove of oyster mushrooms today in the woods and I brought a bunch back with me to cook for myself and completely forgot. Tomorrow I'll have mushrooms for lunch. I hope they have some magical healing health powers. It feels like eating things I pluck from the woods should be so much better for me than anything I buy in the market. 

Tomorrow is supposed to have a high of only 72. One thing that makes me very happy once the weather cools down is being able to go straight from the dog park to run errands and leave sweet pea in the back seat without worrying about her heating up. The art store is close to the dog park and I think tomorrow I will see if they have any remade envelopes for my little books. Fingers crossed. I just want some nice clear see through ones to protect my precious books. I like precious things. There is a photographer who always makes his own small edition books. I think I'd like to be like him.

 

 

good bad day

So much today.

It's sweet pea's birthday, but since I'm the only one who really cares I didn't tell anyone else.

I called 911 this morning when I got to the dog park and a guy told me he'd been having chest pains, shortness of breath, and a racing heart since yesterday! He didn't want to go to the hospital and might call the doctor tomorrow if he didn't feel better tonight. I knew that if I didn't do anything I would live with deep guilt if anything happened to him. Also, I couldn't let him drive a car thinking he was having a heart attack. The ambulance came and they kept him in there for about half an hour before he came out and told me everything was fine. I kind of think he was lying to me, but I did the right thing and the rest is up to the guy. I thought he was going to be angry with me, but he said he was glad that someone cared. I think he is unhappy at home.  I can't be his nurse. I have my hands full already. I hope he is ok. 

And it's the 3 year anniversary of Bob dying. Just last week I made a chicken dish that I learned how to make when I let someone host a cooking demonstration in my house. Bob was living with us at the time and he totally came through for me helping me clean the place to perfection before hand. When I got the whiff of the chicken coming out of the oven I thought "I have to call Bob and tell him I made this recipe and it smells great!" and then I cried myself to sleep. There is still a little hole in my heart where my love for Bob used to be. I still think about calling him and then I realize over and over again. Dammit. He's gone forever. Life's not fair. I hate that.

On a less depressing note, I figured out how to make a little book to give out to the reviewers I will meet at the portfolio review at the end of the month. At first I made a very long book, but then I realized it was way too long and I saw a short and sweet book on someone's website and I realized that it would be way better to make a powerful statement with a smaller body of work. The new book has 7 images (about 1/3 of the other version) and you can unfold it to a little poster which is printed on the back of the little 7 images- so 8 images all together.  All stronger and better thought out. I'm psyched about it.

So now all I have to do to be ready to go to the review is print out this little book with extra paper from my thesis work,(yay! Free paper!)  cut and fold the books together , print out a second portfolio I was thinking about bringing to the review and buy/make some nice kind of wrapper for the book. Piece of cake as long as no one around here wants freshly prepared food. Or attention. wink wink.

wait this out

I haven't given sweet pea a typical 2-3 hour walk in almost a week due to the sliced paw pads she got last week. I don't think I can keep her down much longer and will go for a normal walk tomorrow. We were just getting back into the swing of things together after a summer of not so much walking due to fear of bugs, animals, and own personal back/hip/foot pain. I just wanna take my dog for super long walks. Really. Is that too much to ask? Obviously it might be asking for too much since and clearly the reason is because I LIKE IT and it isn't only for sweet pea but for my own sanity, and art and somehow that makes the universe throw road block after road block in my way. Fuck you universe, I will prevail. I will find a way and I will walk and I will make art. Go ahead and test me, you can push me down but I am getting back up. Nyah! 

And then again sweet pea rolled in some stinking animal shit today which I am pretending I don't notice (though I might rub a soapy wash cloth over her before letting her into my bedroom tonight) and I feel that this, this rolling in stinky shit and ignoring it, is so representative of every waking moment of my today as I live it life. 

That being said, there was a food truck festival today and I suggested we lunch there just so I could drag the duds (husband and Josh aka: a perfect day involves pajamas and my computer with ice cream) I live with out of the house, but Josh told me he had just eaten a late breakfast and by the time we got there for an early dinner just about all of the actual food trucks were sold out and only the dessert trucks had stuff so we went to a middle eastern place instead. It didn't really matter because the husband who will not sit in a wheel chair almost passed out taking 5 steps away from the car so it wasn't going to be a relaxing and fun adventure anyway. He also went down earlier in the day- I was sitting on the couch he was steps away from me and never uttered a distress sound or made any attempt at asking help. I was staring at my phone (it's 2017!) and heard the clatter of bones on the hard wood floor and there he was, down on the floor. Did you ever want to punch someone for not telling you they were about to get hurt? Really, I want to hurt the dude for not trying to not get hurt. Fucking dementia. I guess I really want to kick the ass of dementia. You have got to be in this situation to understand the frustration of trying to be respectful of someone's dignity and integrity when they are only half way home. I mean, I can say the right thing but he does not cooperate. I know he can't. It's a horrible place to be. 

I missed out on another photography related event this weekend. When I think about how I imaged my life would be after finishing school I feel so stupid because my life wasn't as exciting and carefree as what I had hoped for for even a minute. I didn't get one fucking tiny little eclipse of time to be all about my art and me. Fuck you life. The truth is I could have dragged myself in to the city today but these days I am so sad every minute of every day that the thought of being around people I might be required to talk to is overwhelming to the point of paralyzation. And those people were all there, the ones I would have loved to see and the ones I'd prefer to never see again, so I just didn't go. Also, I can't lie when people ask How are you? so I don't want to get into things. It's too tragic, even for me and I am pushing through it. And as someone who pays attention to this sort of shit I know for a fact that the only people who have any clue what I am feeling now are the small percentage of people who have been through very similar situations and with all of the health, family and financial complications that is a slim to none crowd. No one there could have any guess how this life feels right now. 

Also, I hate being the downer person of the group. Also, why can't I go through menopause like a normal old lady? When will my fertility end? (Yes, aunt flo arrived this morning.)

I'll just wait this out until I can go forward with some joy.