I was cleaning off an old memory card tonight and I stumbled upon a couple of photos I took en route to Hawaii. Specifically, this one, which I really like: There is something about photographs taken in the air that is necessarily surreal. I look at the photograph and it’s hard for me to remember my time on the plane that led to such a picture. If I squint and try to remember real hard,…
We’re at some swanky three-story outdoor mall in Honolulu. My camera bag feels like it weighs two tons, I’m sunburned and getting hungry, but I am having the best time ever. We hiked up Diamond Head today. Surveyed the coast. I approve. There is so much stuff to do. Not enough time. Or daylight. Okay, enough internet for now.
I still think they’re good-looking folks, but check them out in their youth: My disco-dancin’ pops. My hot mama.
Every time I visit my parents, I return with a car full of stuff. It’s just kind of the way we do things; they get tired of stuff or accumulate things they think I’d like to have, so they just pass along various crap to me. Same goes for my grandmother (she gives me lots of bras and pajamas that I usually end up passing along because they don’t fit). (They are all clutter-enablers.) My…
If you happen to be hanging out in or passing through Peabody Place Mall and you’ve got nothing better to do, you should go find where they’ve got photographs on display and vote for this one: I didn’t win the actual contest — called “Downtown Alive!” or something — (put on by Memphis Downtowner Magazine), but I’m still in the running for the People’s Choice Award, which would get me a gift certificate to a…
The fabulous Ms. Mary K, founder of Culture Grits, a Memphis culture webzine, was kind enough to let me submit some photos for publication. And here they are, in all their amateur glory. Check out the rest of the issue. I especially enjoyed the interview with Kelley Anderson, founder of the Southern Girls Rock ‘n’ Roll Camp. I had at least one women’s studies class at MTSU with Kelley, and she was always the most…
Ladies and germs, I present to you my first lolcat, starring my unnamed kitten (right) and her* sister, whom I may end up adopting as well. Ha haaaa. And here’s an alternate version with double-joke goodness. *Yes, that’s right. Apparently this orange kitty is a rare female. But I can’t tell from looking at her junk; I’m taking everyone else’s word for it, despite the conventional wisdom that orange tabbies are usually male.
My mom re-bandaged my foot today. I swear she infused the wrapping with extra mommy love, because my foot feels so much better than it did before. It’s nice and cushy and not all jangly like it was yesterday. It could be purely psychological. But I don’t think so. My mom is kind of awesome like that.
I just got back from a walk to Burke’s to return the book I got for my dad’s birthday, which — as I suspected — he already owned. That little transaction will help out with the budget situation this week, but it means that I have to keep hunting for something the man doesn’t already own. Which is fricking impossible; this makes at least the third or fourth time I’ve bought him something he already…
I can spend hours dicking around on Flickr. Hours. It fascinates me when people I’ve never even met select random photos of mine as favorites. Seriously — why would a photo of my dad and me when I was a baby mean anything to anyone but me and my family? Why would some random woman in Mexico be smitten with my elevator photogrpahy? It boggles the mind, this world community we’re meeting on the web.…
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