pirates on public transport
Today I'm quite depressed to be at work. We're short-staffed, but even when we're not we don't have enough people to do as good a job as we'd like to do (see also: cheapass administration under-funding us), so this short-staffedness sucks extra hard. The only thing that cheered me up at all was listening to Leslie Halls' "Doorman's Daughter" cd. My favorite is Zombie Killers--the lyrics are hilarious. I love Leslie Hall so, so much.
Another famous person I love so much is Kathy Griffin; I've been recording her Life on the D-List show, as well as her comedy specials, and MAN that woman makes me laugh. I wish we were related or that I could be one of her assistants.
I picked up my processed photo cds (I never get prints anymore) Wednesday after work, and while the cross-processed photos are mainly disappointing, the redscale photos are a knockout! Or at least I think so. Here are a few I like especially:
I was not expecting such dramatic results, but according to some people in the Flickr redscale group, the huge contrasts are probably because most of the photos were taken in less than full sunshine. They told me I should purposely overexpose the film when shooting through the back of it, and I'll do that next time, provided I'm using a camera that allows for it (which the Ultra Slim and Wide doesn't). Anyway, I'm quite pleased with the results of this experiment and will try it again.
So, I need to complain for a moment. I bought some skin stuff a month or so ago that has been working really great, but even it cannot combat the hormonal skin outbreaks. My complaint is really the hormones: On Monday night when I was washing my face and getting ready for bed, I noted that my skin was absolutely clear other than one tiny blemish that was forming. Not a big deal; I was not bothered. Tuesday morning I woke up to at least 6 or 7 new blemishes THANKS A LOT, PROGESTERONE, YOU JERK. I guess I should get used to dealing with 4-7 days of horrible skin per month, because there appears to be no way around it. Possibly I should buy some festive masks.
Yesterday afternoon I had a conversation, via text, with Sharky of all people. It started with a gentle nagging message from me about whether he was on his way to S. Eugene HS (on the bus) to sign up for summer classes. He wrote back to say he was just catching the bus, and guess who is in Eugene today. I guessed Verne Troyer or Barack Obama, but it turned out to be Leslie and the LYs, and my brother was planning to attend their concert last night. He hadn't heard of Leslie until he saw the Shark wearing the Leslie t-shirt I got him at Christmas last year, but he was planning going to go and buy some other shirts--I haven't heard back yet so I don't know if he followed through on that. I should send him her website; she sells from there also. Anyway, the conversation moved on to what classes Sharky signed up for ('The Known World' and 'American Short Stories) and how the bus was boring yesterday but the other day when he was on it he saw a guy with a hook for a hand. And really I sort of can't believe he wants to text chat with me when he didn't even want to live chat with me two short weeks ago. I need to be careful not to break the spell.
This morning Francisco had to go to Yakima for a full physical as part of his upcoming police gig. He was mailed instructions that said not to eat or drink anything after 9:00 o'clock the night before, and he followed these instructions to the letter, even going so far as to not drink any water (it turned out water would have been okay). The physical went well--he called me from Denny's afterwards, where he was eating chicken fried steak to break his fast.
Oy, this was one of the longest workdays on record. I am going home now.
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