



A gallery of this afternoon's shots.
Do you have a favorite? | 5 comments
Consider this:
digitalnap.org
The Day of Rest
Monday, February 25, 2002
01:49 a.m.
I'd venture to say that my Sundays' are fairly atypical. I have worked every Sunday, save for the occasional request off to, usually, spend my Sunday doing Something Else, for nearly five years. As a server, Sundays are prime time in my establishment and I, like you, am driven by the almighty dollar.
I ask you, do people spend Sundays in the park (with George?)? Do they wake up late and have their blonde children bring them piping hot coffee in bed, like in the commercials? Do they see matinee movies, and experince the singular phenomena that is DayBlindness (the excruciating, singe-your-retina light adjustment that can only occur after an afternoon at the cinema)? I seem to remember something like this from my youth, but it's hazy.
Rather, these are things that happened to me, on my Sunday:
I woke my friend Travis-Ann (as in "Go into the light, Carol Anne!" from Poltergeist. Because he screams like a wee girl.) from my couch just after 10 this morning per his instructions from the night previous. I'm sporting PJs and Travis-Anne begins eyeing me uncomfortably and raising his eyebrows in a come hither fashion. He was joking, of course, but wouldn't you know it?
Gay or straight, they really are all the same.
I noticed the floors of my circa-1950 home has hilly floors. Gently rolling hardwood floors that make living at my house kind of like living in Suess-land or something quite like it. To me, anyway.
I poured Marty Stewart a double-shot of Jack Daniels straight-up, with a Diet Coke back. I poured him four ounces of liquor, a true double, and he commented on my generous pour. He knocked back the whiskey and slurped down the soda and darted out after dropping two ones on the counter for me. I'd like to have thanked him for his own generosity. Upon his leaving everyone quietly and awkwardly agreed that it was him. Except for that one guy who insisted he was the lead singer from Air Supply.
I dropped an entire 6-pack of Bud Lite beer bottles. On my foot.
I read from the Manifesto of the Communist Party and imagined an earth with no owners.
I coveted my neighbor's boyfriend.
I removed a huge splinter from my middle finger with a steralized blinking Foster's pin.
Classy.
What'd you do? | 3 comments
My First Friday Five
Friday, February 22, 2002
10:59 a.m.
Hey everybody, it's time for the Friday Five.
1. Hey, baby, what's your sign?
I'm a Scorpio. When I tell people that I always get a big reaction. Many tend to back up a few steps.
Do you think it fits you pretty well?
The linked page reads, "They have a better chance of becoming geniuses than the natives of any other sign." Yeah, I'd say that is about right.
2. What's the worst birthday gift you've ever received?
I'm going to have to go with that time a few years ago when I got dumped. Or was it the other way around? Well, the break-up was a direct cause of no gift, not even a card.
3. What's the best birthday gift you've ever received?
A friend flew us to NYC to see Bjork in concert at Radio City Music Hall.
4. What's the best way you've celebrated your birthday thus far?
On my 12th birthday my mom allowed me a slumber party. I could rarely have friends over because we lived in a small apartment and to be honest, my mom was sort of strict so I'd stay at my friends' houses instead. But this night I had my three best friends over and we did it up right. Paula Abdul and pink hair-paint.
5. What are your plans for this weekend?
Help out with NIFF soiree in ritzy Belle Meade tonight followed by two days at that pit, Outback. In another word, work.
Whatchoo talkin' about, Willis? | 1 comment
glimpse
Wednesday, February 20, 2002
08:07 p.m.
Today was a magical kind of day. The temperature was just right and there was quite a lot of wind. Leaves danced in pairs, pieces of long forgotten paper took flight and inanimate objects came alive. A shopping cart in front of the grocery began moving, seemingly of its own volition, stopping short of any shiny cars or stray children.
There was a spirited energy in the air today, and so I got a little snap happy.

and one from the other day:

Say anything... | no comments
While you were away...
Wednesday, February 20, 2002
06:02 p.m.
Just now, while out taking photos, a young boy (under 10) tried to impress me by speeding past, far too closely, on his bicycle and squealing to a premature stop, thereby sending dust flying into my face.
His father then proceeded to reprimand him and forced his son to apologize to me.
I thought the boy's cheeks might suddenly erupt into flames he was so embarrased. The poor kid, I couldn't help but wink at him after he squeezed out an I'm sorry. His father probably could have spanked him on the spot and he would have been no less mortified.
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Is it ironic or a coincidence?
Wednesday, February 20, 2002
02:54 p.m.
Every day, as I leave my philosophy class and trudge back to my purple rollerskate of a car, I pass a sign on the front lawn of the Middle Tennessee Baptist Church that reads:
Jesus is the way.
Not a way.
What do you think? | no comments