i'll let you know when i get there

Snarky Social Commentary on an Actually Very Enjoyable Event Located in Los Angeles (the city of angels) California Called Design for Humanity Sponsored by Billabong Including Photos! When you grow up in the midwest, you learn from the television and magazines that red carpets are very very big deals and that only very important, glamorous people walk on them while complete strangers shout out their names and try to attract their attention.  Here is what really happens for much of the time on red carpets: girls eat sandwiches. The event is sponsored by Billabong.  It includes an art auction.  I was really excited to see what kind of art would be going for such ridiculous amounts of money.  Here is a picture of my favorite shot of the art gallery: So, it wasn't really the BEST art in the world.  but hey, it was going to a good cause.   ' and what, you might wonder, was that cause?  judging by the 2 minute em...

here are some trends i am noticing in the world of photography: artsy things artsy people take pictures of: 1. sunsets/rises 2.  the eyes of animals- close up 3.  food 4.  flowers ( dandelions, the unfolding of roses, extreme close-ups ) 5.  coffee cups/ latte designs 6.  birds in flight ( or just... birds ) 7.  skylines 8.  "the details"  "the little things" 9.  guitar necks 10.  mirror self-portraits with camera 11.  people holding hands 12.  babies 13.  big sweeping nature bits 14.  i can't think of a 14 but i wanted to end it on an even number i, no doubt, do the same thing  (evidence: sunset/birds in flight:  two for one!   http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindseying/7595229008/in/photostream the little things:  or, the "litter" things  http://www.flickr.com/photos/lindseying/7588642822/in/photostream ) and will continue. on one hand- clearly these things are recapture...

when i was in high school i used to make a questionnaire in my journal before every school year which included these kinds of serious ponderings: 1.  will in go up a bra size?  (almost certainly a no) 2.  will my high school god of idolatry finally move through the great cloud of blindness separating us and see me for the perfect match that i am?  (definitely a no) 3.  will i get asked to prom?  (maybe.  but i'll no doubt do my own hair and look like a complete mess) and every year or a few years later i would look back and answer. although it was a way of documenting how the cookie ended up crumbling,  the whole thing was really more to do with what my general concerns and questions and wishes and fears were at the time. on the verge of this budding relationship with my nikon (who i am thiiiiiiiiis close to naming) , i find myself overwhelmed with the same sort of excited/nervous questions.  So, here goes. Dear awesome a...

an interview with martin cane five days after he did cocaine for the first time and felt just fine: mc:  i just tried cocaine for the first time. interviewer:  cocaine confessional.  tell me more. mc:  umm not much to say.  it's nothing crazy like it's depicted in movies.  it made me feel more aware and that's it really. i:  why did you?  would you again? mc: i would.  but i would try it without drinking first.  and i did because i've been hanging out with sharon from class a lot and she does it.  so i tried it. ......................the next day.......................................................................................... i:  how do you feel today? mc: fine.  pretty normal actually.  have you done it before? i:  no. i won the DARE award in fifth grade.  i'm afraid they'd ask for the DARE bear back. ....................later on.......... mc:  by the way, i did it in the ...

Dear Missy Higgins, I am so excited to see your show at the Troubadour venue in L.A. on Thursday!   I am also knee deep infatuated with a camera I just purchased (nikon d5100).  I am not a professional photographer, I am just smitten over my new toy and never want to see the world in any other way except through that lens.  Infatuated.  As evidence, here is my most recent facebook update: "guys.  i cannot stop taking pictures and editing them and it's all i want to do in life i just want to quit everything else and say up all night until my contacts are dried to my eyeballs and then wake up and start all over again and this is what it feels like to be obsessed and this is what it feels like to be in love and this is what it feels like to identify a grail and pursue it with reckless abandon.  amen." do you know that feeling?  I bet you do. I have no intention of using any of my pictures for anything outside of my own personal collectio...

At my 8 or 9 year old birthday party, Eletha brought me a big stack of Ramona Quimby books.  Eletha was my grandma's cranky sister who was hard of hearing and later that night broke our toilet seat. The other details of the party have blurred, but I remember wishing sincerely that everyone would go home so that I could read my new books. that is how i feel about work today.

i bought the littles a FURminator today.  best $50 spent in a long time.  i combed about 5 of those huge furballs off them, and i'm not done yet.  holly golightly has claimed the little blue rodent.  she's spent the whole day whipping it around, carrying it in her teeth, and napping with it.  

i think i had a religious experience while watching the Monty Python's Spamalot. they make fun of everything in the best way (in smart and silly ways).  they were making fun of religious soul empowering music during one scene and they kept repeating the line "FIND YOUR GRAIL" in the kind of affecting way that church soul music can sometimes have. and they were mocking the religious part but something about the grail and the searching and the absolute need for that search and pull moved me. begin ramble:  then the rest of the play showed how various knights found their grail in various forms of identity- homosexuality, musical theater, a woman, patriotism... name it... and all i could think of was kierkegaard and the idea of finding your meaning somewhere and then leaping and the beauty of true devotion and at the time i thought it was all nuts because i was still so angry but there might be something there because i remember wondering as a freshman in college whe...

1.  i just learned how to photo edit the zits off people.  did you hear that friends?  as far as the future generations will know, you stopped having acne on JULY 14, 2012. 2.  oh mylanta, i may never sleep again.  finally got my editing program figured out and i love it with every fiber and pixel of my being.  i could edit photos all day, everyday.  i sit here and do it until it's 2 in the morning and my eyeballs are bugging out of my head and my contacts are dried onto my eyeballs and my body hurts from being contorted strangely for three hours and i've been whispering quietly to myself for the same amount of time and i get up to use the bathroom and have to run because apparently i've been holding it for three hours without realizing it because i am lost lost lost lost lost to the world of disappearing zits and color and shadows and highlights and bringing out some life in people and the otherwise dangerous and dreary world. 2.  holly got o...

OMGOMGOMGOMGOOMGOlittlebabyjesusGOMGMGOGOMGOG I first read "The Life You Save May Be Your Own" by the beloved southern goth writer flannery o'connor during undergrad christian bubble days.  Here is what I remember thinking: Why does the man agree to marry that girl?  Does he love her?  Is he trying to help her get away from her mom?  Why does he rescue her only to leave her at the restaurant?  What's with the random kid at the end?  Why is it so anticlimactic- him just driving away?   the above serves as proof that i've spent most of my life BASICALLY ILLITERATE.  forget all those book-it pins and free pizza hut pizzas.  forget the baby sitter's club and nancy drew and choose your own adventures and oz (the whole series, not just one) days.  forget that time the eighth grade english teacher commended me on my ability to analyze poetry.  forget fifty gazillion tattered poetry journals that started to amass some time in seventh ...

"OMG ggs was like a retreat.  I was confined to the house because of laundry and i loved it.  aunt kate and gg and i sat around allllll weekend eating food and farting and watching the dog whisperer tv shows.  it was great."  -Anne Frank

I noticed their expressions midweek.  The vacant look in their eyes.  They were looking like adults.  I heard their sighs and throat clearing.  The quiet rustling of papers.  They were sounding like adults.  About halfway through week two, I had turned summer school classroom into a box of work producing predictability.  It was a large sized cubicle and we were all segments of one, functioning, production oriented worker. Every day is the same.  Enter.  Pledge your allegiance to a country and a god.  Hear announcements.  Find your page.  Read.  Assess.  Label.  Answer.  Turn in.  Break.  Learn new vocabulary.  Practice new vocabulary.  Take a quiz on the reading and the vocabulary.  Go home.  Every day.  For three hours.  For four weeks. It doesn't matter that they can work in groups, or listen to ipods while they work on vocabulary, or that the stories are actuall...

The cats got out last night.  Who knows how long they were out there.  When I noticed the door open, Sherman was on the porch meowing in short, panicked gulps like a trusty tattletale boyscout.  He did not resist capture. I stepped outside further and heard a high pitched wail from somewhere up above.  I thought maybe Holly had climbed into some trapped space.  I was about to check in the basement door when I looked up and noticed her big saucer eyes staring wildly through the rails of the upstairs neighbor's porch.  She was meowing in this high pitch that registered somewhere between pure, wild excitement and sheer, utter panic.  "Here I am!  See me!  I'm up high!  Holy shit, I'm up high!"  When J attempted rescue, she hissed and resisted a bit.  Covered in cobwebs, I'm pretty sure she was both relieved to be home safely and so, so proud of herself.

"Teasdale had a sad life and often expressed her sadness through poetry." Imagine your entire life memorialized in two paragraphs for decades of future teenagers who probably won't even read it.  Imagine the sum total of your life experience summed up in the word "sad". All those moments.  All her thoughts and feelings and normal days and big joys and aches and little mundane things.  Reduced. Was her life sad from the beginning?  Was she the kind of child who wailed through the night and never had any friends?  Was her childhood horrible due to no fault of her own?  Or did the sadness set in with puberty, when hormones started her heart and brought feelings requited and failed and unrequited and generally awful?  Was it some horrible adult trauma or depression? How tragic does a life have to be to get the word "sad" as its only adjective?