Boney Butt

I took Oliver to the vet yesterday to get him a check-up and establish a local vet for him. It was good visit. She told me he's very sprightly for a dog of ten years old and that what looks like cloudiness in his eyes is not cataracts, but aging. It is not effecting his vision she told me.

I have been concerned about his weight. He has never been much of an eater and since being home he's dropped about three or four pounds and his little hip bones can be felt at his back end. We haven't been able to figure out if it's because of the all-day Greco-Roman wrestling matches that he and Bootsie are having, or if Bootsie's getting his food because he leaves it or what. But the other day, Mom managed to get him very interested in his food.

In fact, it appears she discovered the secret. She stands next to his dish and whispers nicely about how lovely the kibble looks, then she would stroke his back as he approached the dish, continuing to talk to him as he began to eat - and finished his meal in one effort!

Later, when Mom was telling Dad about my weird dog and his weird eating requirements, I joked, "I think I heard her say 'Here comes the airplane' at one point!"

I have decided that Dreamweaver is a big poop and I need to walk away from the poop for a bit. I found a very affordable portfolio hosting site thanks to fellow shooter, John White. I find that the more I look at my own work, the more I dislike it. I suppose that happens - You get to a point where you don't know what's good anymore. I think most shooters have experienced that.

My friend Rachel is coming to visit in two days! (Spirit fingerrrrrrrs!)

I'll Work on the Computer Today Wait, I Have to Run an Errand

I'm very distracted today. I still feel miserable and I think that's part of the issue. I'm at the razor phase; first, it was the pain where the sinuses and throat meet phase, then came the runny nose, then came the brick head, then came the runny nose with the brick head. Now I'm in the coughing mode where you cough and nothing happens except the sensation that moths with wings made of razor blades are flying around in your throat.

I think I am stalling revisiting Dreamweaver lessons. I am dreading the likelihood that I will quickly get frustrated and cry in my milk (again) feeling stupid and defeated. I didn't accomplish too much yesterday except to buy some generic long-sleeve shirts online after accepting the fact that I really just needed to go ahead and buy them already. Oh, actually, that's not true. I also got a hair cut which I like. I'd photograph it but the rest of me doesn't look so nice. I also went to Trader Joe's for some mandarins and chocolate covered pretzels. I also went through a list of area colleges and universities and found the names and contact info of most of their directors of their marketing and communications departments. So, that was redeaming.

Today, I decided I need to go up the street to buy some cough meds, but that was after I found my sweaters in the garage where my belongings have taken over, and after I followed Oliver around for a poop sample. I'll get to that in a bit.My Mom has invited her friends over to watch the original Little Women. I'm sure it' great but...snooooooore.....so I thought I would hook-up my DVD player in my room and Dad and I could watch something upstairs since we've been somewhat evicted from the studio, where the movie watching will be happening with Mom and her friends.

So, I pulled some of the DVD player parts out but then I had to go take some of the medication I just bought and then I thought I'd blog. And check email. And Facebook.

Oliver has a vet appointment today. He's perfectly fine but I need to establish him with a vet here and he also needs his nails clipped. The poor thing sounds like he's wearing tap shoes. His are so thick it's like trying to cut a log with tweezers. Plus, I know I don't do it with confidence and that's never good for the one being clipped.

I'm gonna go do something else now. Likely something that doesn't really need to be done, but in my ill state will seem important and relevant at the moment.

The leaves, they are a-changin'.

Runaway and Poop

I am sick with a nasty cold. It leaves me wondering if I will be getting sick more often than I did while living in FL. I was rarely sick when I lived there.

I have been sleeping in the third floor guest room, next to my parents' room. My bedroom is actually on the second floor, but since I don't love sleeping in the twin that's in there, I mosey up to the third floor to sleep. Oliver sleeps on the floor next to me.

I woke around 3. Wide awake, I lay there annoyed for a bit. I heard my dad from the room next door, "Come here, Oliver" in a friendly voice. Oliver lay on the floor next to me, unmoving. Soon, dad appeared in the hallway, all dishevelled with sleep, "Where's Oliver?" he asked.

I had turned on the light on my nightstand by now, "He's right here, Dad" he looked down at Oliver, still on his bed with his head hanging off. "There were two dogs out here" Dad claimed, confused.

Then it was clear that what I had suspected was in fact the case; dad had been dreaming or something. He shuffles off to the bathroom and I hear, just as he reaches the door, "There's poop in the doorway!"

That's weird, I think, I didn't hear Oliver get up and pooping in doorways isn't really his forte. Plus, I had just used the bathroom and saw nothing.

Dad leaves the bathroom, passing through the doorway again, "Never mind. There's no poop here"

My Dad dreamt of poop.

This morning, I had my own poopy experience. Letting the dogs out, Oliver took off like a shot into the backyard. Bootise took off after him and her leash snapped where it had been frayed by her chewing on it. She took off like a shot; across the yard, then into the neighbor's yard, behind the barn then back again, into the other neighbor's yard and back around the house. She would check to see where I was and take off as I got closer. The little brat! I was screaming uselessly at the top of my lungs before giving up and just heading into the house with Oliver. It was then that she went to the side door and waited patiently to be let back in. I let her back in but not before telling her what a naughty punk she was and giving her a little whack on the haunches before putting her in her crate.

Reporting back to Mom this morning, she tried not to laugh while I ranted about the outdoor event's effect on my nerves. We also talked about dad's little moment in the middle of the night. "Well, when he came back to bed," Mom said, "he told me there wasn't any poop in the doorway but he did see two dogs dancing in the hallway."

Nightmareweaver is More Like It

This is the first day I have felt defeated since I arrived in MA.

I slept poorly last night thanks to severe allergy issues. Today, I am in a Claritin fog with pain behind my eyes and a drippy brick for a nose. After a hot shower which did little for my head, I started my day by watching some of the Dreamweaver instructional lesson I've been watching online. The lessons are in brief segments, but I spent hours watching the lesson last week and am no closer to actually being able to at least layout a page.

I stormed away from my computer, feeling completely defeated and despite my big brothers best efforts this afternoon, helping me via iChat, I still don't know what the fuck I'm doing.

I'm quite confident that it is the way I am attempting to learn. I am not an instruction manual type of learner. Words don't do it for me. You can imagine how super fun high school and college were for me. I need a human to go over it with me. I'm trying to think of how I can bribe my brother into some quality education time with his un-nerved sister.

I take solace in knowing that when I got a crash course in Final Cut Pro last week (from a human), that made perfect sense to me. So, I don't feel totally stupid. Still, it's hard in moments like these to not think, Is that it? Can I really only push a button on a camera?

I've been getting regular reports about the status of my previous work place. Many are annoyed that a person who is leaving now did not think to do so a month ago, just before boy outs were needed. Those who remain there feel it could have saved a job. Better news is that one of those who lost his job to the buy-out now has a new one! I am disappointed only because his and his wife's back-up plan was to move to New England. Now, they are headed to the mid-west.

It is getting chillier here, too. I wouldn't mind this if I felt better. But, I don't. However, I am still enjoying the idea that I will be here when the leaves begin to fall, when I can see pumpkins on porches and notice that they don't rot after two days outside, when the air smells of snow, and when we go to an actually Christmas tree farm to cut down the tree.

Joslin

Today, I am at the Joslin Diabetes center in Boston. A friend of mine, who also happens to be type 1 is in town from upstate New York for a visit to "the Mother ship" as we like to call the Center.

She's been feeling like her sugars are out of control and felt a visit with the all-knowing at Joslin would be good. It's smart.

I've been here before. After dropping her off at the front door, which is much more subtle that I recalled it being over ten years ago when I came here for the first time, I went to park the car.

Last night, KC and I stayed up late talking. We went online and she showed me pictures of her beautiful boys, ages 3 and 2. I mentioned to her that there is a ice cream joint nearby that I'd like to go to if she had any interest. We talked about food and how guilty she felt whenever she ate anything at all. I don't' feel guilty per say, but I am conscious of what others around me might be thinking.

I hate how people see me taking insulin after, or just before I start into a dessert, and they make some comment about me "cheating". It is rare that this happens, really. My friends and family don't say much. They trust that I'm not killing myself. But others don't seem to realize that their pancreas is producing more insulin too, it's just that we diabetics have to do so manually. Lots of ice cream and hot fudge isn't good for anyone.

So, we chatted on about this and that and both joked about having "diabetic brain". I swear that I have a harder time getting my thoughts out and that it is a direct result of my condition. She agreed that she's experienced too, "But, really, I think we're both just thinking about getting ice cream." That was true, and we left for Meletharbs.

I planned on wandering around a bit, maybe going to the local Galleria Mall, until I heard from her that her appointments were done, but curiosity got the better of me and I decided to come inside and have a look around. It did look familiar of course. When I'd last come, with exception to a brief visit a few years ago for second opinion with some issue, the place seemed much bigger. It's funny because I wasn't a kid. I was 21. But still, it seems smaller now.

I recall that one or two floors are for treatment and the others are for research. Approaching the building from the outside, I could see people in the upper floors in small offices and I wondered, are they trying to find a cure? Or checking their email. I don't think about a cure. I've accepted that in my case this condition is for good and I'm OK with that. Every once in a blue moon I cry in my chocolate milk at the whole situation, but for the most part, it's part of me now; this lack of function in one organ. I've never really thought about what it would be like to not be diabetic. I suppose that's good, like there are other things I obsess about more.

I'm excited for KC. I'm excited to hear what she will learn and how it will help her.

Eating Worms

I left Oliver in my bedroom this morning, behind a baby gate, so I could go to the library to get some work done. Mom said that when she came down the other morning when I wasn't there and Oliver was in the same scenario, he looked at her through the baby gate bars like he were a miserable orphan who hadn't been fed in days. Before I left, I asked Dad if he barks when I'm not there (Oliver, not my Dad). He said yes, but assured me it was no biggie. I told him to give him a stern "Ollllliver, Nooooo barking." That usually works.

I sent an email to Dad from the library, letting him know he should drop me an email if they need me for something. He replied...

We're fine, but Oliver would like to have equal access to IM and email. He would just like to point out that he is lonely and is thinking about eating worms in the backyard,

So there.

Dad

Change of Address

"You are a member of Region 1".
That's what it said on the National Press Photographers Association, or NPPA, website when I changed my address. It's a bit strange filling in my job as a "freelance photojournalist" considering I haven't figured out my camera gear situation yet. Though I am getting closer. It's also a bit surreal to see that I am a member of a new Region when I haven't a job just yet. I'll get closer to that too, though.

Debby's Gone

Despite the rain, Debby and I had a fun and busy visit. We ventured over the SOWA Open market and wandered that for a bit. It was small but he were still glad we made a stop there. We went from there to Newbury Street where we wandered around for a bit, stopped in Tealuxe for lunch and looked around at the other chichi places way out of our budget. We actually used her iPhone to find the nearest target which we scurried off to in hopes of actually buying something.

Lots of fun, for sure. We are hoping to meet again not too long from now, and in a different location. Perhaps someplace we've never been before?

Right now I am in the local library, taking a break from an online course about Dreamweaver. I discovered my videos from The Post disappeared from their site (it turns out they only host 100 videos. Makes sense.) and I'm hoping for some guidance on how to put them on my site. I don't know the first thing about doing so, so I'm crossing my fingers.

Debby Day Two!

Rainy in the Cape.

Debby doing some Boston research.


The lovely display outside the Salem Witch Dungeon Museum. Remember to bring the kids!

My friend Debby, who lives in San Fransisco came to visit this week-end! I picked her up on Thursday night and we were off to Scott's End. On Friday, we did some shopping with my Mom and in the evening, hung out with Mom and Dad. She's a great photograher with a lot fo experience and it's inspiring to be around her. I've been feeling so out of touch with what I used to do for a living just three weeks ago.

This morning, we left Scott's End and headed home with the two dogs in the back seat. We headed from my hometown of Wakefield to Salem. Salem is a cool place but we weren't really sure where we were going despite our best researching efforts. We got some lunch at Capt's Restaurant, which my parents did the interiors for, and then we wandered around. We did find our way to The Witch Dungeon museum, where we sat through a brief reenactment of the Salem witch trials, then went through an underground tour where they had replicas of the dungeons where accused witches were kept.

Home at the end of the day and now we are hanging out, watching some SNL and looking forward to tomorrow's adventures.

Game of the Week

My friends at The Post have been really busy. Here's one of the fall projects.
CLICK HERE TO VIEW THE GAME OF THE WEEK.

It's a very cool section with great images of rival teams leading up to their Friday night face-offs. Watching the videos though, and especially the still image slideshows set to music, I have mixed feelings about it. I know rivalries are going to exists no matter how much or how little coverage a local paper gives the schools, but is it a good thing provide official documentation of the throw downs complete with a rap soundtrack and video sound bites of apposing players challenging one another? While not all music that has a rap beat can have a negative connotation, Palm Beach County has it's rough areas, and I can't help but wonder if the rap music which plays along with the slideshows simply play into the thug stereotype which some of these communities have.

I also would have edited out the image of the cheerleader sticking her tongue out. It walks the line of provocative. Also, the shooters, both still and video, need to be credited more prominently, as do the video editors.

That said, the video is great, the still images are exceptional as always, and the look and feel of the site is super cool slick.

I'm proud of my (former) peeps.

Bootise Crawls on Helen and Then Jumps Across Her

Friends

These two are funny together. They're having a good time, I think!

Rough-housing!

Cape Cod Some More

Fun and relaxation at Scott's End continues, though we have lost our wi-fi network, so the updating of this week-end may be delayed. Saturday night's dinner was Persian. Made by Ada, who lives in the home which stands back to back (though there are backyards between them) to my house, the meal was preceded by a lovely story about hospitality customs of a typical Persian home. Through-out the meal, some of us were asked to read a few Persian proverbs and sayings which Ada had found in her cookbook. Lit by the stars and the candle lit lanterns on the long table top, we enjoyed the meal on the brick porch in he back of the house.

Oliver continues to enjoy himself here, though he is ever hopeful that lizards will appear and never hesitates to have a little looks for them when he discovers little spaces in the house and bushes surrounding it. Now that my brother and sister-in-law have shown up with their sweet dog, the house is a regular Dr. Doolittle vacation getaway.

I'm still not sleeping terribly well. I woke the other morning, and not having a bedroom to clean-up in an effort to make it my own, I found my mind wandering to the how to make a living situation. I woke at three this morning with the same thoughts going through my head. I woke again when others in the house began to stir around seven. So, I appreciate, thoroughly, the big fat nap I've just woken up from.

Maureen, who is Ada's daughter, and soon to be married, and I went to Target with Mom yesterday. While living in West Palm Beach, I enjoyed meeting from time to time with some other board-game players - Monkey's Delight - we called it, and Maureen and I have decided that doing some game-playing meeting up would be fun.

I can't really wrap my brain around being here. I'm very content, but it is strange. I hadn't really thought it would happen this way, really. It's nice to hear people say, "Welcome back to Boston!" or for me to realize that I don't have to rush really, for quality with this person or that person because I have only three and a half days in the area left. I have unlimited days at the moment.

The job hunt is non-existent right now, and I am trying to be OK with that.