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Your Terrific Support Of The Arts
Some day, I'm going to convince my dad that he will never actually rebuild this car and that it must be moved. Three cars in any back yard is both trashy and funny to me. I wish it were more like this today, blue and clear. Instead it's on the verge of snow just grey and nothing. And cold, too cold. I must go for a run but damnation, when it looks so grey, my body doesn't want it and my head doesn't either.
In other news, I went to Blackbird's holiday party. Carly rockstarred some candy canes out of thin air, a process that involves a lightbulb like this one.
Unrelated: this guy made a pinhole camera... out of his mouth. I wanna try it. I think that's rad.
Going to that party, I know I had to seem like the world's most ungracious guest. There were so many people there and my tongue quit working to talk and my brain quit working to do anything but panic. What is it about a cluster of people that makes someone so uncomfortable? Some people are only suited to live in a cave, and I'm such a person. I'm happy and well adjusted but I can't mingle or relax or think happy thoughts in social situations.
Anyway, to make candy canes you first boil a lot of sugar and syrup in a pot like this at a very high number of degrees. But I don't know what, because Carly's candy thermometer broke and I forgot to ask.
You pour the result out on a stone slab and you let it cool. You can dye some of it if you want your candy canes to have colors. Then you must pull the sugary mess like taffy. I didn't even take this picture, Cory took it, I believe, which would explain why it's actually in focus.
Then you fold the colored bits into the lump, roll it out, cut it into pieces, make the pieces into cane shapes if you want, and let them cool.
Oh, I forgot to say the part where you add peppermint or whatever flavor you want. That happens at some point.
I have a soft spot in my heart for roadrunners and tattoos thereof. I'd like to get some roadrunners. Someday. Also, Kachinas and Japanese prostitutes. Maybe when I'm older. Or maybe never. I love tattoos so much, it seems odd I don't have some. Sometimes I think I need a lobotomy.
Annie's prints came in the mail yesterday. Damn but that metallic paper looks so good on high key black and whites. There are plenty of situations where metallic doesn't cut it- this photo shoot wasn't one of them, however.
And speaking of pictures taken against my brick wall, here's one of Nik.
It's funny how the raw file isn't nearly so gloomy; I injected all that based on my own mental reflections. And they say photography is objective.
Nik's visiting from Seattle. Some people (read: Jaclyn) may remember him for dating Kendra for two weeks. He went on to get married and now he's going on to get divorced. I've been thinking about him the past few days, wondering about this divorce situation, wondering why people get married and how it only takes one person to fuck it up beyond all repair.
Anyway. We chilled yesterday, it was nice to talk again. He went with me to the camera store while I tried to determine what is wrong with my D80. We drank hot mochas and talked about the olden days when we both worked at Relay and were always getting into hijinks of one sort or another. It was good to get another friend back, and if I can find a cheap ticket I think I might go visit in Seattle- if only to see that NEATO public library they have.
In other news, I went to Blackbird's holiday party. Carly rockstarred some candy canes out of thin air, a process that involves a lightbulb like this one.
Unrelated: this guy made a pinhole camera... out of his mouth. I wanna try it. I think that's rad.
Going to that party, I know I had to seem like the world's most ungracious guest. There were so many people there and my tongue quit working to talk and my brain quit working to do anything but panic. What is it about a cluster of people that makes someone so uncomfortable? Some people are only suited to live in a cave, and I'm such a person. I'm happy and well adjusted but I can't mingle or relax or think happy thoughts in social situations.
Anyway, to make candy canes you first boil a lot of sugar and syrup in a pot like this at a very high number of degrees. But I don't know what, because Carly's candy thermometer broke and I forgot to ask.
You pour the result out on a stone slab and you let it cool. You can dye some of it if you want your candy canes to have colors. Then you must pull the sugary mess like taffy. I didn't even take this picture, Cory took it, I believe, which would explain why it's actually in focus.
Then you fold the colored bits into the lump, roll it out, cut it into pieces, make the pieces into cane shapes if you want, and let them cool.
Oh, I forgot to say the part where you add peppermint or whatever flavor you want. That happens at some point.
I have a soft spot in my heart for roadrunners and tattoos thereof. I'd like to get some roadrunners. Someday. Also, Kachinas and Japanese prostitutes. Maybe when I'm older. Or maybe never. I love tattoos so much, it seems odd I don't have some. Sometimes I think I need a lobotomy.
Annie's prints came in the mail yesterday. Damn but that metallic paper looks so good on high key black and whites. There are plenty of situations where metallic doesn't cut it- this photo shoot wasn't one of them, however.
And speaking of pictures taken against my brick wall, here's one of Nik.
It's funny how the raw file isn't nearly so gloomy; I injected all that based on my own mental reflections. And they say photography is objective.
Nik's visiting from Seattle. Some people (read: Jaclyn) may remember him for dating Kendra for two weeks. He went on to get married and now he's going on to get divorced. I've been thinking about him the past few days, wondering about this divorce situation, wondering why people get married and how it only takes one person to fuck it up beyond all repair.
Anyway. We chilled yesterday, it was nice to talk again. He went with me to the camera store while I tried to determine what is wrong with my D80. We drank hot mochas and talked about the olden days when we both worked at Relay and were always getting into hijinks of one sort or another. It was good to get another friend back, and if I can find a cheap ticket I think I might go visit in Seattle- if only to see that NEATO public library they have.