My cousin Savannah, age 3.
A recent thunderstom leaves a saturated scene on the outskirts of Harrisonburg, Va.
Sunlight glints off piece of broken glass in the window of an abandoned home in Harrisonburg, Va.
Friday, July 08, 2005
Thursday, July 07, 2005
I Got Skills
Since this blog is mine, and it's about me, I thought I'd use this post to brag on myself a little bit. This is not something I like to do often, mind you, but what the heck. Okay, so my recent accomplishments include (in no particular order):
1. I successfully shot skeet.
2. I successfully shot my first photos picked up by the AP wire.
I also successfully spelled successfully, but we won't count that.
Anyway, "shooting skeet" (for you big-city folk) refers to brightly colored clay "pigeons" (disks) that, with the help of a flinging device, you fling into the air and shoot at with a shotgun. I'm pretty sure that "flinging device" isn't correct terminology, but I'm new to this too so you'll have to excuse me. So, I, having never fired a real gun before, hit these small clay disks flying at substantial speed through the air. Okay, actually I just hit one, but still... It wasn't just a small target, it was a small moving target.
As for accomplishment #2 on my list, let me explain. I took pictures took to go with a story about the local fish kills in the Shenandoah River. It's a pretty big issue around here, because all the fish are dying and it's hurting the fly fishing industry among others. So the story, accompanied by my pictures, made front page news here. One of the girls I work with submitted my photos to the AP unbeknownst to me, and then when I came to work yesterday she showed me how to look on the AP server to see if my stuff had been picked up. And it had. All five shots, so that was cool. I get paid for them too, $5 per photo. I know, it's not much, but hey! it's more than I've made all summer. AND my photos could appear in your newspaper, if your paper was so inclined.
1. I successfully shot skeet.
2. I successfully shot my first photos picked up by the AP wire.
I also successfully spelled successfully, but we won't count that.
Anyway, "shooting skeet" (for you big-city folk) refers to brightly colored clay "pigeons" (disks) that, with the help of a flinging device, you fling into the air and shoot at with a shotgun. I'm pretty sure that "flinging device" isn't correct terminology, but I'm new to this too so you'll have to excuse me. So, I, having never fired a real gun before, hit these small clay disks flying at substantial speed through the air. Okay, actually I just hit one, but still... It wasn't just a small target, it was a small moving target.
As for accomplishment #2 on my list, let me explain. I took pictures took to go with a story about the local fish kills in the Shenandoah River. It's a pretty big issue around here, because all the fish are dying and it's hurting the fly fishing industry among others. So the story, accompanied by my pictures, made front page news here. One of the girls I work with submitted my photos to the AP unbeknownst to me, and then when I came to work yesterday she showed me how to look on the AP server to see if my stuff had been picked up. And it had. All five shots, so that was cool. I get paid for them too, $5 per photo. I know, it's not much, but hey! it's more than I've made all summer. AND my photos could appear in your newspaper, if your paper was so inclined.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Happy 4th!!
A photo from my friend's wedding I attended this weekend in Boone, N.C. I didn't shoot the wedding, just went as a guest, so this is probably the only picture you'll see.
A bee sucking (or grabbing or whatever they do) pollen from a flower in Jonesborough, TN.
A yummy bowl of cherries.
A bee sucking (or grabbing or whatever they do) pollen from a flower in Jonesborough, TN.
A yummy bowl of cherries.
Saturday, July 02, 2005
Attack of the Napkin Nazi
I realize I've been unusually wordy these past few days, but I will indulge the photo-side of me again soon I promise. Just let me tell another story.
Today I drove back from VA to TN to attend a wedding this weekend. The only important part of this interesting tidbit is that it led me to stop at Dairy Queen for lunch. Dairy Queen for me is road-trip food. Hot Eats, Cool Treats you know what they say...
Anyway, so I went inside and ordered a burger, fries, and a Blizzard. You can't eat at Dairy Queen without a Blizzard, trust me. All of this was fine and normal until I sat down at a table and began eating. I made it perhaps 3 bites into my cheeseburger with one measly pickle when an elderly lady waiting for her food ambled over to an empty booth by way of my table. Mid-stride, she snatched my single extra napkin OFF THE TRAY IN FRONT OF ME!!
"I just need a napkin," she explained apologetically, and proceeded to sit down at a nearby booth.
WHAT!?! This is a seemingly nice old lady, no doubt someone's grandmother, swiping a clearly-going-to-be-used napkin at Dairy Queen from a stranger. Who does that?
It was so bizarre, I just stopped chewing and let her take it. Not that I had much choice, but I certainly didn't put up a fight. (From the needy-napkin look in her eye, she probably would've won.)
But she had to have seen me since she spoke directly to me. Granted, I am a rather thin individual and I don't take up much space, but I'm pretty sure I was planning on spilling enough ketchup on enough body parts to warrant a second napkin. I had two napkins, mind you, one on my lap and one on the table. Not an excessively wasteful stack, just two.
She was an older lady, but quite capable enough to walk the extra 5 feet (yes, 5 feet I tell you!) to the counter where containters full of napkins sat just waiting to give, give, give. Heck, she could have asked me to retrieve them for her. But stealing ONE? Unheard of.
Today I drove back from VA to TN to attend a wedding this weekend. The only important part of this interesting tidbit is that it led me to stop at Dairy Queen for lunch. Dairy Queen for me is road-trip food. Hot Eats, Cool Treats you know what they say...
Anyway, so I went inside and ordered a burger, fries, and a Blizzard. You can't eat at Dairy Queen without a Blizzard, trust me. All of this was fine and normal until I sat down at a table and began eating. I made it perhaps 3 bites into my cheeseburger with one measly pickle when an elderly lady waiting for her food ambled over to an empty booth by way of my table. Mid-stride, she snatched my single extra napkin OFF THE TRAY IN FRONT OF ME!!
"I just need a napkin," she explained apologetically, and proceeded to sit down at a nearby booth.
WHAT!?! This is a seemingly nice old lady, no doubt someone's grandmother, swiping a clearly-going-to-be-used napkin at Dairy Queen from a stranger. Who does that?
It was so bizarre, I just stopped chewing and let her take it. Not that I had much choice, but I certainly didn't put up a fight. (From the needy-napkin look in her eye, she probably would've won.)
But she had to have seen me since she spoke directly to me. Granted, I am a rather thin individual and I don't take up much space, but I'm pretty sure I was planning on spilling enough ketchup on enough body parts to warrant a second napkin. I had two napkins, mind you, one on my lap and one on the table. Not an excessively wasteful stack, just two.
She was an older lady, but quite capable enough to walk the extra 5 feet (yes, 5 feet I tell you!) to the counter where containters full of napkins sat just waiting to give, give, give. Heck, she could have asked me to retrieve them for her. But stealing ONE? Unheard of.
Friday, July 01, 2005
Me, Applying for a Photo Processing Store Job
"Okay. I think I've finished it now." I hand the manager my completed job application.
"Alright. Well, while you're here, we might as well get you to fill out this other form," she says, quickly producing another page from thin air.
Me - blank stare. She passes me a math test. No joke. A Xeroxed math test.
I can't help it. I laugh out loud. Now its her turn for the blank stare.
"I'm sorry, I've just never gotten one of these before when applying for a job," I lamely explain.
I take a deep breath, and begin the test. Only it's not a true math test because I'm lacking a #2 pencil and a calculator, plus I'm standing up. I wonder if I'll need an eraser.
The first eight questions are addition and subtraction. 147+289=? 152-13=? You get the idea.
The next two questions are percentage questions. It's starting to get a little tougher, but luckily that 3rd-grade math comes trickling back to me. 20% of 120? 30% of 250?
Then I come to the question which under normal circumstances would have ruined me. Which direction is Staunton from Harrisonburg? North, south, east or west? Lucky for me, the place of business I'm standing in is in Staunton, and the place where I'm living in Harrisonburg, and I just drove on the interstate SOUTH to get here. Score!!
Number 12 is a little tricky. How many days are in a year? 365, of course, but just to be on the safe side I write underneath in small letters "or 366, if it's Leap Year." Can't be too sure. I don't want to slip up on a technicality.
The final two questions are the important parts, clearly designed to take my math aptitude to the next level. If Stan orders 3 prints of negative #7, 14 prints of negative #10, and 9 prints of negative #3, how many total prints should he be charged for? And the classic... If Betsy buys one item priced at $14.89 and one item priced at $7.99, not including sales tax, what is the amount of Betsy's total purchase?
My question is this: What kind of people is this test weeding out? I mean, yikes.
And hypothetically speaking, what if I got all the questions right except for the days in a year question? Would I still get hired? I can't imagine that there are many jobs where knowing that 365 days= 1 year is particularly pertinent to one's survival skills.
By the way, this is a completely true story. In math terms, that's 100%.
"Alright. Well, while you're here, we might as well get you to fill out this other form," she says, quickly producing another page from thin air.
Me - blank stare. She passes me a math test. No joke. A Xeroxed math test.
I can't help it. I laugh out loud. Now its her turn for the blank stare.
"I'm sorry, I've just never gotten one of these before when applying for a job," I lamely explain.
I take a deep breath, and begin the test. Only it's not a true math test because I'm lacking a #2 pencil and a calculator, plus I'm standing up. I wonder if I'll need an eraser.
The first eight questions are addition and subtraction. 147+289=? 152-13=? You get the idea.
The next two questions are percentage questions. It's starting to get a little tougher, but luckily that 3rd-grade math comes trickling back to me. 20% of 120? 30% of 250?
Then I come to the question which under normal circumstances would have ruined me. Which direction is Staunton from Harrisonburg? North, south, east or west? Lucky for me, the place of business I'm standing in is in Staunton, and the place where I'm living in Harrisonburg, and I just drove on the interstate SOUTH to get here. Score!!
Number 12 is a little tricky. How many days are in a year? 365, of course, but just to be on the safe side I write underneath in small letters "or 366, if it's Leap Year." Can't be too sure. I don't want to slip up on a technicality.
The final two questions are the important parts, clearly designed to take my math aptitude to the next level. If Stan orders 3 prints of negative #7, 14 prints of negative #10, and 9 prints of negative #3, how many total prints should he be charged for? And the classic... If Betsy buys one item priced at $14.89 and one item priced at $7.99, not including sales tax, what is the amount of Betsy's total purchase?
My question is this: What kind of people is this test weeding out? I mean, yikes.
And hypothetically speaking, what if I got all the questions right except for the days in a year question? Would I still get hired? I can't imagine that there are many jobs where knowing that 365 days= 1 year is particularly pertinent to one's survival skills.
By the way, this is a completely true story. In math terms, that's 100%.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Google Me
Although I've googled myself before, I've never quite taken the opportunity to find out everything there is to know about Emily Chastain. So here goes: (some of these are pretty funny)
1. I won third place for "Rhythm Army" in the preteen line division of the 2005 St. Charles Missouri results.
2. I wrote a fantastic testimonial about the superior yoga teacher training I received from the Salt Spring Centre of Yoga. That must mean I'm also now a yoga teacher. Click here to read it.
3. I am one of the "Beautiful People of Town Hall." Click here to find my picture.
4. I am the news editor at Genesis, a magazine at Elkhart Memorial High School which has apparently garnered some controversy after printing an article about Valentine's Day for lesbian couples and an opinion piece calling for the legalization of marijuana.
5. I am the contact person to call when ordering the 18th edition of the bookContraceptive Technology from the website www.sexualetiquette101.com.
6. I am a staff writer for Purdue's newspaper, The Exponent.
7. I am one of 700,000 people connected with European royalty.
8. I enjoyed the recent field season in the high Andes of Chile, thanks to the Mineral Deposit Research Unit.
9. I am an 8th-grader in the Challenge Program at Millstadt Consolidated School, which prompted me to present my findings on a local one-room school house at the Millstadt Historical Society meeting.
10. I was an amateur competitor in the Atlanta Open, a ballroom dancing competition. Ha!! Unfortunately, I don't appear to have won anything. Big surprise.
I have NOT, according to Google, ever created this blog, although my name shows up as being in one of Lori's blogs. Go figure. How'd ya do that, Lori?
There are a few true things about me on Google, but I find the untrue ones to be much more fun. I encourage all of you to Google yourself, and find out who you might have been.
Here's a random photo (a for real one, not a googled one!) of my bro and me. I got my underwater camera film developed (finally) from the cruise a few weeks ago. This is us snorkling in the crystal clear waters off the coast of Cozumel.
1. I won third place for "Rhythm Army" in the preteen line division of the 2005 St. Charles Missouri results.
2. I wrote a fantastic testimonial about the superior yoga teacher training I received from the Salt Spring Centre of Yoga. That must mean I'm also now a yoga teacher. Click here to read it.
3. I am one of the "Beautiful People of Town Hall." Click here to find my picture.
4. I am the news editor at Genesis, a magazine at Elkhart Memorial High School which has apparently garnered some controversy after printing an article about Valentine's Day for lesbian couples and an opinion piece calling for the legalization of marijuana.
5. I am the contact person to call when ordering the 18th edition of the bookContraceptive Technology from the website www.sexualetiquette101.com.
6. I am a staff writer for Purdue's newspaper, The Exponent.
7. I am one of 700,000 people connected with European royalty.
8. I enjoyed the recent field season in the high Andes of Chile, thanks to the Mineral Deposit Research Unit.
9. I am an 8th-grader in the Challenge Program at Millstadt Consolidated School, which prompted me to present my findings on a local one-room school house at the Millstadt Historical Society meeting.
10. I was an amateur competitor in the Atlanta Open, a ballroom dancing competition. Ha!! Unfortunately, I don't appear to have won anything. Big surprise.
I have NOT, according to Google, ever created this blog, although my name shows up as being in one of Lori's blogs. Go figure. How'd ya do that, Lori?
There are a few true things about me on Google, but I find the untrue ones to be much more fun. I encourage all of you to Google yourself, and find out who you might have been.
Here's a random photo (a for real one, not a googled one!) of my bro and me. I got my underwater camera film developed (finally) from the cruise a few weeks ago. This is us snorkling in the crystal clear waters off the coast of Cozumel.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
At the Pool
I've been working on a photo essay for the paper called "Pool Daze." Here's a preview of a few of the images.
A silhouette goes sliding down the tube at the Westover pool in Harrisonburg, VA.
Maggie, 1, gives the camera a cute baby face while perched at the edge of the kiddie pool.
A pair of feet emerge from the end of a long tube slide at the Westover pool in Harrisonburg, VA. Please tell me how much you like this photo because I really do. :-)
A silhouette goes sliding down the tube at the Westover pool in Harrisonburg, VA.
Maggie, 1, gives the camera a cute baby face while perched at the edge of the kiddie pool.
A pair of feet emerge from the end of a long tube slide at the Westover pool in Harrisonburg, VA. Please tell me how much you like this photo because I really do. :-)
Internship Woes
Since I now have an internet connection to my computer WOO-HOO! here are (play-by-play) my first three days of the internship experience for your reading pleasure. It's a bit long, but hey, I haven't been posting too much lately. More to come...
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
My first day of the internship. I arrive as scheduled at 9:15 and ask the receptionist for Pete, my new boss. She calls him to let him know I'm here, and five minutes later, he saunters downstairs to retrieve me. He's younger than I expected, but not young enough to seem unqualified. I peg him around 45. We walk upstairs into the tiny newsroom, where everyone glances up expectantly as I enter. Everyone is a little more well-dressed than I anticipated, and I feel glad I didn't wear something casual. After a few introductions, we make our way to the back of the building: the photo dept. Photo gets its own (small) room, equipped with two Mac computers I'm pleased to see. I meet the staff. Mike is a considerably older man with a friendly nature and many tales of experience. He has been there for 30 years. Holly is young, 24, just two years out of college herself. Nikki is a little older, but not much, and has only been working there a few months. And that's the staff, two older guys and two younger girls, a strange split for a photo department. Pete and I go over a few basic questions such as job responsibilities and workflow. It is apparent that I won't be sitting around getting people's coffee, something I'm quite happy not to do. We take a tour of the building, including the press where they print the paper. I've never seen an actual press before, and the smell of newsprint is strangely appealing. We chit-chat until about noon when Pete takes me out to lunch at one of the local hangouts. (“Hell, we're not paying you so we might as well buy your lunch.”) I munch on a chicken cordon bleu sandwich while Pete flirts with the (young!) waitress and discusses a late evening spent drinking at the very place in which I sit. And while you might be thinking the drunken debauchery must have occurred many moons ago in his younger years, no. It was last night.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
I arrive at work around 12:00, where I make small talk with the other photographers until 12:30 when I leave with Holly to shoot the gubernatorial candidate of Virginia, Jerry Kilgore, as he makes a short “fly-by” campaign appearance at the local airport. (Anytime I use “shoot” in this narrative I mean “photograph,” just to clarify.) Kilgore is supposed to miraculously appear from the runway at 1:00. 1:30 rolls around and we're still waiting. He comes eventually, and we do our thing, bringing the photos back to the office around 3:00. Thus begins the long process of loading them into the computer, and putting them, properly toned, in the correct folders with accurate captions. There are so many steps I wonder how I'll ever remember them all, and thank God that Holly's very nice and willing to help me. We'll see how long her patience lasts. I leave at 4:30 with directions to find the baseball game that evening where I've been assigned: “You know, just feature-y stuff. Not actual baseball, but everything else going on.”
Okay.
It's fun, I guess, talking to people I've never met and can barely understand due to their small-town accent and loyal-ball-fan lingo. (How am I to know that CH stands for Clover Hill, a local baseball team? I plead “new girl,” a viable defense to many a misdemeanor around here.) I grudgingly concede to have my picture taken by a wiry man with large glasses in exchange for the extreme privilege of taking his. Hmmm, I wonder where that'll end up?
A photo I took from the ball game.
Friday, June 17, 2005
I knew I would have a moment of intern stupidly. What I didn't know is that it would come so soon.
I'm sitting in the photo office, by myself, because everyone else has either not come in yet or is gone off on assignment. One of the reporters rushes in.
“Uh... Where's Holly?”
“She's gone shooting something,” I offer helpfully.
“What about Mike?”
“He doesn't get here until 11:00.” Another helpful smile.
A pause.
“Well there's a big barn fire and you're going to have to go shoot it.”
Ahh! Panic! I try to control my facial muscles but my poker face has never been very good.
“Ummm... okay, where do I go?”
If I had been that reporter, common sense at this point would tell me to send the new photo intern out with another seasoned employee who knew the area and could get to the fire quickly. But no. I am sent with the new journalism intern, a girl who has been in Harrisonburg perhaps a week longer than I.
After a few wrong turns (she's driving), we spot a trail of smoke high enough to guide us to the fire. As we approach, I see the largest fire of my entire life. It's a gigantic barn, completely engulfed in flames. It's so big the firefighters stand back and watch it burn.
Then I feel a deep weight in my stomach as a small piece of recollection flitters up through my brain. The memory card to my camera is sitting back at the office in the computer, right where I left it. Now, for you non-digital-savvy people, this is the equivalent of forgetting every roll of film you've ever owned. That's never a good thing.
I explain the situation to the other intern, and she offers to drive me back to the office. No good. By the time we drive the round trip, the barn will have completely collapsed and plus, she still has a story to write. So I call Holly on her cell phone, begging her to please come bail me out. Which she does, 15 minutes later. Wooo-hoo! Crisis averted.
But the sickening part that sticks with me? I am standing maybe 50 feet from the greatest fire I've ever seen not on a television screen, grasping my camera, peering through the viewfinder, visualizing exactly how wonderful my pictures could be, but I have NO WAY TO SHOOT IT!!
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
My first day of the internship. I arrive as scheduled at 9:15 and ask the receptionist for Pete, my new boss. She calls him to let him know I'm here, and five minutes later, he saunters downstairs to retrieve me. He's younger than I expected, but not young enough to seem unqualified. I peg him around 45. We walk upstairs into the tiny newsroom, where everyone glances up expectantly as I enter. Everyone is a little more well-dressed than I anticipated, and I feel glad I didn't wear something casual. After a few introductions, we make our way to the back of the building: the photo dept. Photo gets its own (small) room, equipped with two Mac computers I'm pleased to see. I meet the staff. Mike is a considerably older man with a friendly nature and many tales of experience. He has been there for 30 years. Holly is young, 24, just two years out of college herself. Nikki is a little older, but not much, and has only been working there a few months. And that's the staff, two older guys and two younger girls, a strange split for a photo department. Pete and I go over a few basic questions such as job responsibilities and workflow. It is apparent that I won't be sitting around getting people's coffee, something I'm quite happy not to do. We take a tour of the building, including the press where they print the paper. I've never seen an actual press before, and the smell of newsprint is strangely appealing. We chit-chat until about noon when Pete takes me out to lunch at one of the local hangouts. (“Hell, we're not paying you so we might as well buy your lunch.”) I munch on a chicken cordon bleu sandwich while Pete flirts with the (young!) waitress and discusses a late evening spent drinking at the very place in which I sit. And while you might be thinking the drunken debauchery must have occurred many moons ago in his younger years, no. It was last night.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
I arrive at work around 12:00, where I make small talk with the other photographers until 12:30 when I leave with Holly to shoot the gubernatorial candidate of Virginia, Jerry Kilgore, as he makes a short “fly-by” campaign appearance at the local airport. (Anytime I use “shoot” in this narrative I mean “photograph,” just to clarify.) Kilgore is supposed to miraculously appear from the runway at 1:00. 1:30 rolls around and we're still waiting. He comes eventually, and we do our thing, bringing the photos back to the office around 3:00. Thus begins the long process of loading them into the computer, and putting them, properly toned, in the correct folders with accurate captions. There are so many steps I wonder how I'll ever remember them all, and thank God that Holly's very nice and willing to help me. We'll see how long her patience lasts. I leave at 4:30 with directions to find the baseball game that evening where I've been assigned: “You know, just feature-y stuff. Not actual baseball, but everything else going on.”
Okay.
It's fun, I guess, talking to people I've never met and can barely understand due to their small-town accent and loyal-ball-fan lingo. (How am I to know that CH stands for Clover Hill, a local baseball team? I plead “new girl,” a viable defense to many a misdemeanor around here.) I grudgingly concede to have my picture taken by a wiry man with large glasses in exchange for the extreme privilege of taking his. Hmmm, I wonder where that'll end up?
A photo I took from the ball game.
Friday, June 17, 2005
I knew I would have a moment of intern stupidly. What I didn't know is that it would come so soon.
I'm sitting in the photo office, by myself, because everyone else has either not come in yet or is gone off on assignment. One of the reporters rushes in.
“Uh... Where's Holly?”
“She's gone shooting something,” I offer helpfully.
“What about Mike?”
“He doesn't get here until 11:00.” Another helpful smile.
A pause.
“Well there's a big barn fire and you're going to have to go shoot it.”
Ahh! Panic! I try to control my facial muscles but my poker face has never been very good.
“Ummm... okay, where do I go?”
If I had been that reporter, common sense at this point would tell me to send the new photo intern out with another seasoned employee who knew the area and could get to the fire quickly. But no. I am sent with the new journalism intern, a girl who has been in Harrisonburg perhaps a week longer than I.
After a few wrong turns (she's driving), we spot a trail of smoke high enough to guide us to the fire. As we approach, I see the largest fire of my entire life. It's a gigantic barn, completely engulfed in flames. It's so big the firefighters stand back and watch it burn.
Then I feel a deep weight in my stomach as a small piece of recollection flitters up through my brain. The memory card to my camera is sitting back at the office in the computer, right where I left it. Now, for you non-digital-savvy people, this is the equivalent of forgetting every roll of film you've ever owned. That's never a good thing.
I explain the situation to the other intern, and she offers to drive me back to the office. No good. By the time we drive the round trip, the barn will have completely collapsed and plus, she still has a story to write. So I call Holly on her cell phone, begging her to please come bail me out. Which she does, 15 minutes later. Wooo-hoo! Crisis averted.
But the sickening part that sticks with me? I am standing maybe 50 feet from the greatest fire I've ever seen not on a television screen, grasping my camera, peering through the viewfinder, visualizing exactly how wonderful my pictures could be, but I have NO WAY TO SHOOT IT!!
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Okay, just a short post until my computer gets back up and running with Internet access. It's not fun borrowing people's computers all the time. I started my internship last Wednesday, and so far, its been going well. I'll post more info on that last. Anyway, this guy was at an assignment I had to shoot on an old restaurant celebrating its 50th anniversary. The conversation we had went something like this.
Me: Would it be ok if I took a picture of you?
Him: Oh, I'll just break your camera.
Me: My camera's withstood worse battles, trust me. Can I ask how old are you?
Him: You wouldn't believe me if I told you.
Me: Try me.
Him: 87
Me: You're right. You look too good to be 87.
Him: That's what they tell me.
What a great old man. And what a great old face.
Me: Would it be ok if I took a picture of you?
Him: Oh, I'll just break your camera.
Me: My camera's withstood worse battles, trust me. Can I ask how old are you?
Him: You wouldn't believe me if I told you.
Me: Try me.
Him: 87
Me: You're right. You look too good to be 87.
Him: That's what they tell me.
What a great old man. And what a great old face.
Monday, June 13, 2005
Back Again...
I'm back, safe and sound, from this weekend's family reunion. I had a few pleasant surprises awaiting me, including my two new lenses (yay!) and the news that my skin biopsy was not cancerous (another yay!). Just some weird skin thing that confused my dermatologist.
The reunion this weekend was nice. My mom's side of the family is a bit more exciting than my dad's - not to mention much, much, much LARGER. About 30 relatives came, and we stayed in two cabins at a campground in Ohio called Top O' the Caves. While the sleeping accomodations left a little to be desired (tiny double beds with campfire scented sheets), the rest of the cabin was pretty nice. It's always so interesting to me to see how different all of the families can be coming from the same set of parents (my grandma and grandpa). My grandparents are Mennonites, a religion with values and a lifestyle vaguely akin to the Amish, but not nearly as strict. They raised seven children on a farm in Pennsylvania, and taught them all the importance of God and hard work. Now, within the seven kids and their families, we unite with everything from Mennonites to Baptists to non-denominational worshippers everywhere from Ohio to Pennsylvania to Tennessee. So it's fun when we all get together to watch the interactions. And not always just fun, but funny as well. For example, the other major group sharing the campground with us this was a huge Harley motorcycle gang. Mennonites and bikers, now that's a interesting combination.
The area around the park/campground was just beautiful. We hiked nearly all day Saturday, and I saw at least 3 waterfalls and probably almost as many caves. I'll have those pictures to share with you soon, hopefully. Don't be misled though: the waterfall pictures on this post are from the previous trip I took last week. (Yes, yes, confusing I know, but I'm done with all this vacationing now I promise.) I'm sore, not only from the hiking, but from the air hockey as well. Add up the total number of times I've played in my life and it still doesn't quite equal the number of games I played this weekend. To give you an idea, I used nearly an entire roll of quarters (at 50 cents a game) and I only paid for half. If only my skill had increased at the rate my quarters decreased...
Now, for the last installment of the cruise trip photos:
This is a view from the stairs of an old historical manor built in 1856 in Biloxi, Mississippi. It was given as a wedding present to this girl by her husband... a nice gift I suppose, but I wouldn't want it. The only stairs up to the second floor were outside of the house!
We passed this South Carolina waterfall on our way back to Tennessee. I was driving, so with driver's privilege I stopped the car and shot some photos. One of the only perks of driving with my family...
The same waterfall, but a slightly different shot. I had no tripod with me, so it was quite a challenge to hand-hold the camera for the long exposures I needed.
The reunion this weekend was nice. My mom's side of the family is a bit more exciting than my dad's - not to mention much, much, much LARGER. About 30 relatives came, and we stayed in two cabins at a campground in Ohio called Top O' the Caves. While the sleeping accomodations left a little to be desired (tiny double beds with campfire scented sheets), the rest of the cabin was pretty nice. It's always so interesting to me to see how different all of the families can be coming from the same set of parents (my grandma and grandpa). My grandparents are Mennonites, a religion with values and a lifestyle vaguely akin to the Amish, but not nearly as strict. They raised seven children on a farm in Pennsylvania, and taught them all the importance of God and hard work. Now, within the seven kids and their families, we unite with everything from Mennonites to Baptists to non-denominational worshippers everywhere from Ohio to Pennsylvania to Tennessee. So it's fun when we all get together to watch the interactions. And not always just fun, but funny as well. For example, the other major group sharing the campground with us this was a huge Harley motorcycle gang. Mennonites and bikers, now that's a interesting combination.
The area around the park/campground was just beautiful. We hiked nearly all day Saturday, and I saw at least 3 waterfalls and probably almost as many caves. I'll have those pictures to share with you soon, hopefully. Don't be misled though: the waterfall pictures on this post are from the previous trip I took last week. (Yes, yes, confusing I know, but I'm done with all this vacationing now I promise.) I'm sore, not only from the hiking, but from the air hockey as well. Add up the total number of times I've played in my life and it still doesn't quite equal the number of games I played this weekend. To give you an idea, I used nearly an entire roll of quarters (at 50 cents a game) and I only paid for half. If only my skill had increased at the rate my quarters decreased...
Now, for the last installment of the cruise trip photos:
This is a view from the stairs of an old historical manor built in 1856 in Biloxi, Mississippi. It was given as a wedding present to this girl by her husband... a nice gift I suppose, but I wouldn't want it. The only stairs up to the second floor were outside of the house!
We passed this South Carolina waterfall on our way back to Tennessee. I was driving, so with driver's privilege I stopped the car and shot some photos. One of the only perks of driving with my family...
The same waterfall, but a slightly different shot. I had no tripod with me, so it was quite a challenge to hand-hold the camera for the long exposures I needed.
Friday, June 10, 2005
A Few More... Then I'm Off Again
Well I have just a few more photos to share with you before I have to finish packing. We leave (again) tomorrow for a family reunion in Ohio with my mom's side of the family.
Anyway, this is a photo of Cozumel's coastline.
A stack of Mexican blankets and hats outside a vendor's shop in Cozumel.
My great-uncle, a WWII veteran, is buried in the Biloxi National Cemetery in Mississippi. When we visited my grandparents on the way to board the cruise ship in Mobile. we also got to spend a few days on the Gulf Coast. Uncle Ed died about 10 years ago of lung cancer, and this was the first time I'd ever actually seen his grave. I'll have more pictures from Mississippi when I get back next week.
Hope everyone has a great weekend!
Anyway, this is a photo of Cozumel's coastline.
A stack of Mexican blankets and hats outside a vendor's shop in Cozumel.
My great-uncle, a WWII veteran, is buried in the Biloxi National Cemetery in Mississippi. When we visited my grandparents on the way to board the cruise ship in Mobile. we also got to spend a few days on the Gulf Coast. Uncle Ed died about 10 years ago of lung cancer, and this was the first time I'd ever actually seen his grave. I'll have more pictures from Mississippi when I get back next week.
Hope everyone has a great weekend!
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Photos in Progress
Alright, well I set up a Flikr account to post my pics that way. So I'll be giving you a little photo scrapbook of my trip over the next few days if you can bear with me as I get my act together. I spotted these motorcycles leaning against the sides of old buildings through the metal gate I passed in Cozumel. You can click on the photos for an enlarged view.
ISO 200 f/22 at 1/45
This was a doorway I walked past while ambling through the streets of Cozumel. I'm a fan of the colors and the texture. That was one of the best things about Mexico, for me. All of the color.
ISO 100 f/16 at 1/45
This pair of dancers put on quite a show at the restaurant in Cozumel where we ate lunch. This guy is the same dude who dragged me out to "dance" with him. Those quote marks around "dance" are purposeful, mind you. (See previous post.)
ISO 800 f/13 at 1/45
I like the photo, I think, but I would like it a lot better if the wooden handrail didn't cut through the center. It is just me or does it bother anyone else?
ISO800 f/8 at 1/45
ISO 200 f/22 at 1/45
This was a doorway I walked past while ambling through the streets of Cozumel. I'm a fan of the colors and the texture. That was one of the best things about Mexico, for me. All of the color.
ISO 100 f/16 at 1/45
This pair of dancers put on quite a show at the restaurant in Cozumel where we ate lunch. This guy is the same dude who dragged me out to "dance" with him. Those quote marks around "dance" are purposeful, mind you. (See previous post.)
ISO 800 f/13 at 1/45
I like the photo, I think, but I would like it a lot better if the wooden handrail didn't cut through the center. It is just me or does it bother anyone else?
ISO800 f/8 at 1/45
Recovery
Well I'm back from vacation. Now it's all about recovering from it. Ideally, vacations are a stress-free, relaxation-filled enjoyable time where you get to do nothing but what you want. Realistically, vacations are not always what they're cracked up to be. There was nothing wrong with my vacation, per se, but not everything was right either. As my mom said earlier this evening, we have just forgotten how to have fun as a family. I agree. We can't seem to get past the silly petty stuff that doesn't matter and just appreciate each other's company. I think it stems a bit from the fact that my dad's a little uptight, and if he can't control the situation he can't enjoy it. And if dad doesn't enjoy it, nobody enjoys it.
Anyway, it certainly had its good parts and high points, fun moments and intriguing sights, pleasurable conversations and playful banter. I am thankful to have a family, period, with whom I can take a vacation. Here are a few observations and conclusions I came to after returning home:
1. I can't dance any better in Mexico than I can in the U.S.
At the restaurant we ate lunch at in Cozumel, there were two Mexican dancers shakin' down some pretty wicked moves on the dance floor. Of course, to foster Mexican-American relations and get bigger tips, they dragged a few diners out to participate. So suddenly I found myself literally yanked from my seat by a tall, sweaty mariachi man and being pulled around the dance floor. I emphasize the word pulled here. There were no graceful moves on my part, just a little foot-shuffle in a desperate attempt to keep up. I wish to God someone had made me dance as a little kid and things would be considerably less painful in my adult life. Ah once again I am forced to blame my parents for this.
2. I have a Band-Aid tan.
No matter how see-through translucent waterproof Band-Aids are, they are not see-through by Mr. Sunshine. My skin browned evenly, save for the distinct white portion of my leg where I wore a Band-Aid all week to hide my ugly stitch (which came out today, by the way.)
3. My father will always comment on my driving skills no matter how many years I've been driving or no matter how asleep he appears to be.
It is the most frustrating thing to drive a car with my dad in it.
4. The rocking sensation you feel while on a cruise ship still lasts a good 36 hours after you hit dry land.
I swear if I get up suddenly from my chair or stand to wash my hands at the sink it feels like the house might pitch over at any given second.
5. Ping-pong is not the best sport to play aboard a sea-faring vessel.
Why they had ping-pong on the deck of a cruise ship is beyond me, but 15 games later I am reigning champion. Just let me gloat a minute before you tell me that beating my younger brother doesn't necessarily make me good. By the way, the Gulf of Mexico has officially eaten 4 ping-pong balls. (I can only imagine how hungry it got when the 6 year-olds played.)
6. The only gratifying thing about spending 12 hours in the car with all four members of my family is that now it's my parents who have to stop every hour for a bathroom break.
When I was young, my dad would hand my brother an empty Gatorade bottle on roadtrips because as soon as we'd pull away from a reststop he already had to pee again. Now, I can't help but realize how closely lemon-lime Gatorade resembles urine...
7. I will never enjoy an alcoholic beverage in the presence of my parents.
Oh, it's no big deal for them to have a glass of wine, but apparently 22 is still way under the legal drinking age of our household. I sure would have liked to sip a pink umbrella drink while roasting on the sun deck, but no... maybe next year.
Well, hope I was able to create some vague picture of my vacation. I'll provide a few more details tomorrow, but for tonight, I'm spent. I was going to post some pics as a teaser of more to come, but for some reason I couldn't get it to work. So I'll have to save those for tomorrow as well.
Do you remember any amusing vacation stories from your family? I'd love to hear 'em.
Anyway, it certainly had its good parts and high points, fun moments and intriguing sights, pleasurable conversations and playful banter. I am thankful to have a family, period, with whom I can take a vacation. Here are a few observations and conclusions I came to after returning home:
1. I can't dance any better in Mexico than I can in the U.S.
At the restaurant we ate lunch at in Cozumel, there were two Mexican dancers shakin' down some pretty wicked moves on the dance floor. Of course, to foster Mexican-American relations and get bigger tips, they dragged a few diners out to participate. So suddenly I found myself literally yanked from my seat by a tall, sweaty mariachi man and being pulled around the dance floor. I emphasize the word pulled here. There were no graceful moves on my part, just a little foot-shuffle in a desperate attempt to keep up. I wish to God someone had made me dance as a little kid and things would be considerably less painful in my adult life. Ah once again I am forced to blame my parents for this.
2. I have a Band-Aid tan.
No matter how see-through translucent waterproof Band-Aids are, they are not see-through by Mr. Sunshine. My skin browned evenly, save for the distinct white portion of my leg where I wore a Band-Aid all week to hide my ugly stitch (which came out today, by the way.)
3. My father will always comment on my driving skills no matter how many years I've been driving or no matter how asleep he appears to be.
It is the most frustrating thing to drive a car with my dad in it.
4. The rocking sensation you feel while on a cruise ship still lasts a good 36 hours after you hit dry land.
I swear if I get up suddenly from my chair or stand to wash my hands at the sink it feels like the house might pitch over at any given second.
5. Ping-pong is not the best sport to play aboard a sea-faring vessel.
Why they had ping-pong on the deck of a cruise ship is beyond me, but 15 games later I am reigning champion. Just let me gloat a minute before you tell me that beating my younger brother doesn't necessarily make me good. By the way, the Gulf of Mexico has officially eaten 4 ping-pong balls. (I can only imagine how hungry it got when the 6 year-olds played.)
6. The only gratifying thing about spending 12 hours in the car with all four members of my family is that now it's my parents who have to stop every hour for a bathroom break.
When I was young, my dad would hand my brother an empty Gatorade bottle on roadtrips because as soon as we'd pull away from a reststop he already had to pee again. Now, I can't help but realize how closely lemon-lime Gatorade resembles urine...
7. I will never enjoy an alcoholic beverage in the presence of my parents.
Oh, it's no big deal for them to have a glass of wine, but apparently 22 is still way under the legal drinking age of our household. I sure would have liked to sip a pink umbrella drink while roasting on the sun deck, but no... maybe next year.
Well, hope I was able to create some vague picture of my vacation. I'll provide a few more details tomorrow, but for tonight, I'm spent. I was going to post some pics as a teaser of more to come, but for some reason I couldn't get it to work. So I'll have to save those for tomorrow as well.
Do you remember any amusing vacation stories from your family? I'd love to hear 'em.
Monday, May 30, 2005
What Color Are You?
So I took this "color" test the other day to find out which HTML color I am...unfortunately that color was pale turquoise - not exactly a favorite. But the personality analysis was somewhat correct. Take the quiz yourself and see if you're pleased with the results.
Anyway, I leave tomorrow to go on this family vacation thing. We're going to visit grandparents and then leave on a short 3 day cruise to Cozumel. And by short I mean we spend 2 days on the boat and 1 on the beach. Short. And according to the weather forecast, there is a gigantic gulf storm directly over the two places we will be this next week. Lovely.
It'll be another week or more until I get another post up, but at least it should be complete with some nice pictures! (Hopefully rain free...)
Wish me luck.
#AFEEEE |
Your dominant hues are green and blue. You're smart and you know it, and want to use your power to help people and relate to others. Even though you tend to battle with yourself, you solve other people's conflicts well. Your saturation level is low - You stay out of stressful situations and advise others to do the same. You may not be the go-to person when something really needs done, but you know never to blow things out of proportion. Your outlook on life is bright. You see good things in situations where others may not be able to, and it frustrates you to see them get down on everything. |
Anyway, I leave tomorrow to go on this family vacation thing. We're going to visit grandparents and then leave on a short 3 day cruise to Cozumel. And by short I mean we spend 2 days on the boat and 1 on the beach. Short. And according to the weather forecast, there is a gigantic gulf storm directly over the two places we will be this next week. Lovely.
It'll be another week or more until I get another post up, but at least it should be complete with some nice pictures! (Hopefully rain free...)
Wish me luck.
Friday, May 27, 2005
First Stitches (or stitch at least)
So I got my very first stitch yesterday. It's kind of a yucky story, so if you don't want details, don't keep reading.
I went to the dermatologist yesterday to get a spot on the back of my leg checked out, and the doctor told me he wasn't sure what the spot was, but that it needed to come off. That was not encouraging news for me because I'm just about the biggest weenie in the book when it comes to pain and things like that. So I got a painful shot which numbed my leg up pretty well, then he took a 4mm punch into my flesh. Can we say ewwwww? It was an extremely strange feeling to know that my leg was being cut into but not being able to actually feel it. (And thank goodness for that!) So I felt the doc putting the stitch in, and I could feel the string being pulled through my skin, but no pain. Anyway, my removed chunk of leg is being biopsied to find out what exactly it is. Skin cancer is a possibility, but I'm only 22 with no history of bad sun damage so that seems unlikely. Probably it's just an ingrown hair, but you never know. I should find out in a week or two.
This is a picture I took of a sliced kiwi. Nothing too fancy... I just put the slices on the lightbox I use for viewing slides in an attempt to get some nice even lighting. I like the colors, but I think the composition leaves a little to be desired. Any thoughts?
I went to the dermatologist yesterday to get a spot on the back of my leg checked out, and the doctor told me he wasn't sure what the spot was, but that it needed to come off. That was not encouraging news for me because I'm just about the biggest weenie in the book when it comes to pain and things like that. So I got a painful shot which numbed my leg up pretty well, then he took a 4mm punch into my flesh. Can we say ewwwww? It was an extremely strange feeling to know that my leg was being cut into but not being able to actually feel it. (And thank goodness for that!) So I felt the doc putting the stitch in, and I could feel the string being pulled through my skin, but no pain. Anyway, my removed chunk of leg is being biopsied to find out what exactly it is. Skin cancer is a possibility, but I'm only 22 with no history of bad sun damage so that seems unlikely. Probably it's just an ingrown hair, but you never know. I should find out in a week or two.
This is a picture I took of a sliced kiwi. Nothing too fancy... I just put the slices on the lightbox I use for viewing slides in an attempt to get some nice even lighting. I like the colors, but I think the composition leaves a little to be desired. Any thoughts?
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
And a photoblog is born...
I think I'd like to have my blog double as a photoblog (since I am a photographer). From now on, I plan to have one or two photos posted each week, just to keep me shooting and hopefully improving. Here's a photo of my friend Heather. It's a (very) low-light portrait I took at a bonfire she had at her house right before I left Abilene.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Lonelily
So I was listening to Damien Rice's song, Lonelily, and thinking about how strange it is the English language doesn't haven't an adverb for lonely. I guess he did the next best thing and invented one - lonelily. It still sounds strange, even in a song, but it fits. I'm lonelily sitting here now, for example, and I've been lonelily waiting for my new camera lenses to arrive for days now.
Funny story, that. Frustrating would probably be the more appropriate word, however. I ordered 2 brand spankin' new camera lenses from a camera place on the Internet LAST WEEK so that I could have them in time for our family trip next week. Waiting in greedy anticipation, I've been feverishly checking the mail everyday since last Wednesday until I finally got smart and decided to look on the tracking information included in my confirmation email. Apparently my box of camera stuff was sitting around in Johnson City for 2 days before the US Post Office generously returned it to the sender since the morons who processed my order copied my shipping address over incorrectly. AHHHHHH... now I have to wait for it to return to New York and then come BACK to Johnson City to what will hopefully be my correct address. Even more frustrating? The customer service representative had the nerve to tell me this was MY fault after I asked if I could still get it before next Monday. Which I can't, of course. Patience is a virtue, and one I'm quickly losing.
Funny story, that. Frustrating would probably be the more appropriate word, however. I ordered 2 brand spankin' new camera lenses from a camera place on the Internet LAST WEEK so that I could have them in time for our family trip next week. Waiting in greedy anticipation, I've been feverishly checking the mail everyday since last Wednesday until I finally got smart and decided to look on the tracking information included in my confirmation email. Apparently my box of camera stuff was sitting around in Johnson City for 2 days before the US Post Office generously returned it to the sender since the morons who processed my order copied my shipping address over incorrectly. AHHHHHH... now I have to wait for it to return to New York and then come BACK to Johnson City to what will hopefully be my correct address. Even more frustrating? The customer service representative had the nerve to tell me this was MY fault after I asked if I could still get it before next Monday. Which I can't, of course. Patience is a virtue, and one I'm quickly losing.
My first post ever
Well, I finally did it.
I gave in and began my very own blog. It's not that I think I have anything particularly important to say, but at least now I have a place to say it. I must admit, it's vaguely intimidating to realize anyone can read this...
I gave in and began my very own blog. It's not that I think I have anything particularly important to say, but at least now I have a place to say it. I must admit, it's vaguely intimidating to realize anyone can read this...
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