So, there's this girl...yea I know, it's always interesting when I start out that way. The trick is preparing yourself for how it's going to begin. Sweet and a little tarty? Or distastefully vulgar? But taking into consideration who's writing this, you probably already have a pretty good idea that it will be a vaudevillian mess with a boastful swagger and just a touch of insecurity. Or not. I mean really, that's a bit much, even for me.
Regardless, I've digressed. So yes, there is this girl with curly brown hair and those couture sweats that doesn't scream sexy in your face, but hints at the tastiness beneath them. She's got just the right amount of bounce, the perfect amount of jiggle, and I, with a disregard for all appropriateness, stared like dog - out of breath, jaw dropped, and one dirty thought away from a semi.
My friend Max and I have dubbed her bubbles. More precisely, my bubbles. And yes, for those of you eagerly anticipating it, I'll say it without further ado, I want to pop my bubbles so badly. Oh bubbles, you're so wonderfully sweaty.
Bubbles and I crossed paths one morning when I had left my glasses at the gym. I was in a hurry to hop in the shower and she had found them abandoned on the counter. As I rushed out to retrieve them, I literally almost ran into her. We caught eyes and she mentioned the glasses. Of course I wasn't wearing them, so we might not have caught eyes at all...anyways, I instinctively checked her out - gave her the ol' up and down. She giggled, and I slowed to a walk and said a simple, "thanks." So this is what James Bond must feel like. And without fail, my life reminded me that I am no where near that level of debonaire, as I crashed into one of the various tables set up outside the gym. In fact, my life saw to it that I never forget, and none better than a shot to the groin. In this case, my bundle of joy collided with the corner of a steel chair. I suppose if this ever happened to James Bond, he'd say, "So this is what Miguel feels like."
There was little in the way of interaction between the both of us for weeks after that. But in the early hours of Monday, Wednesday, Friday, I was content to admire the scenery - I was content to watch my bubbles float on by. And so it went, week after week, it kept me going to the gym so early in the morning, even after a grueling session the night before.
And then it happened. No, not that - it's me writing this, remember? I had just finished a set of pull ups and I was admittedly a little dizzy due to the lack of sleep and general exhaustion. Bubbles walked passed me, and in a lapse of judgement, filtering, and personal censorship, I thought out loud and said, "She's so hot!" Upon realizing this, my eyes widened and I ironically mouthed "fuck" in silence. She stopped and turned around. And for a split second I hesitated as she paused and gave me a quizzical look. Then, with about as much gumption as a newborn lamb, I whimpered, "...in here. I wanna take my clothes off..." *sigh...At this point, i would have much rather taken another nut shot.
No, the embarrassment doesn't end there. Weeks went by, and I fell back into the routine of lift, stare, drool, repeat. It was good, I was happy and bubbles knew no better. At the end of my workouts I try to squeeze in some abdominal work. My favorite is the crunch machine. Which I'm proud to say I can comfortably do with 170 pounds of resistance. These are great to make your six pack pop out, but do nothing in terms of trimming fat off. So I end up with strong abs under a layer of fat. If I were a steak, I'd be a sirloin. Fuck at least I'm tasty.
Anyways, I walked away from the machine in order to grab one of those sani-wipes as the one I had, had dried out. Just then bubbles unknowingly snuck in. And I wasn't about to kick her off the machine. But I left my water bottle and shirt (I had a tank-top on underneath) by the machine. So I walked over and said excuse me as I grabbed my stuff. And she stopped for a second, and the conversation went like this:
After looking at the weight, and then looking at me she said, "Oh, were you using this?"
me: "Yea, it's ok, I'm tired anyways."
And then I could have sworn she checked me out, only because I've been getting pretty good at recognizing it when my boobs get checked out. Hell, as Max says, I'm all tits and I know it.
She smiled, blushed, and giggled - "You go ahead, I'll come back later."
me: "Are you sure? You can go if you want."
her: "No, no. It's fine, I'll come back." and at that she made that hand gesture that just so happens to let her fingertips graze my chest.
At that, I finished up my sets with a much deserved smile. Well, kind of a smile, those crunches make me grimace like a mother fucker. I even managed to hold in a fart that really wanted to get out. For those of you who don't know, do not use that machine if you gotta go. Trust me...no sphincter should be trusted under such pressure.
I walked out of the gym that day and took a second to admire bubbles on that single leg kick back machine. Damn she's got a fine ass - I'm sorry, there's just no better way to say it. Hell, why do you think we call her bubbles? I almost went over and talked to her, but I was really tired - not to mention gassy. Probably not the best condition to approach bubbles. (That pun was not intended, but thoroughly enjoyed none-the-less.) So, I made my way to the locker rooms, undressed, and flexed a little in front of the mirrors - took note of the progress, some problem areas, and the definite need to trim. And after letting the water warm up, I got in and said, "Fuck you James Bond, she touched my boobies."
Monday, December 10, 2007
Monday, December 3, 2007
Please Pick Me!
hey guys and gals, all you english geniuses out there, help a brother out and read my essay and tell me what you think.
I could easily fill a page with details on how beautiful your campus truly is. Or I could just as easily write about the prestige, and success the University of Pennsylvania and its alumni receive and duly deserve. And in earlier drafts I did just that. I wrote compliment after compliment in my attempts to express the reasoning behind my desires. But while all these would be true and none-the-less worthy reasons for my intent to transfer and graduate from the University of Pennsylvania, my reasoning, much like myself, have changed over the course of my college career.
I graduated high school and shortly thereafter, pursued an admittedly lofty and impulsive dream of mine. My girlfriend and I left home and drove across country to California. And to answer the most likely questions, no I did not want to be a rock star, an actor, and at the time, not even a student, at least not a student in the traditional sense of the word. But I was always open to learning, and learn I did.
In those years following high school, I learned a lot about growing up. I experienced the pleasures and headaches of renting my own apartment. I debated differing political views and enjoyed speaking and often befriending those of other cultures. And after my girlfriend and I went our separate ways, I learned what it was like to lose a love I thought would last forever. Yet, what I thought was once a less than preferable turn of events became a catalyst that led me to re-evaluate my life.
Although I was happy with many aspects of my life, I knew that I had much more learning to do. And with the generosity of a loving family, I moved back home in order to pursue a more formal higher education. I was excited, albeit a little afraid – but I was focused and determined to succeed. And even though it had been several years since I last stepped into a classroom, I felt ahead of the curve, and my grades became clear indications of my committed resolve.
I had planned to earn a bachelor’s degree from the very beginning, and hope to continue for an MBA. The University of Pennsylvania has always been on the top of my list, at first, for the many reasons I stated in my introduction. But over the course of my tenure at my current junior college, the University of Pennsylvania has become the fuel that has kept me fervent and awake - unwilling to waver in my endeavors for education and a better life.
I am well aware of how exclusive transfer acceptance is among the top Universities, especially UPENN. While I would love to write that I am the best possible student, I simply can’t – not that my academic record is at fault, nor to any sort of detrimental shortcoming of mine - but such superlatives seldom really mean anything. However, I can tell you that if I were given the opportunity to study at the University of Pennsylvania I would be nothing short of happy, honored, and extremely capable. I know it will be difficult; I have no misconceptions about the academic rigors UPENN presents to their students. Yet, I welcome the challenge with a healthy amount of caution and the courage to move forward when difficulty arises. And academics aside, at the very least I know I could contribute an open mind, a little creativity, and if all else fails – a fairly good sense of humor.
I could easily fill a page with details on how beautiful your campus truly is. Or I could just as easily write about the prestige, and success the University of Pennsylvania and its alumni receive and duly deserve. And in earlier drafts I did just that. I wrote compliment after compliment in my attempts to express the reasoning behind my desires. But while all these would be true and none-the-less worthy reasons for my intent to transfer and graduate from the University of Pennsylvania, my reasoning, much like myself, have changed over the course of my college career.
I graduated high school and shortly thereafter, pursued an admittedly lofty and impulsive dream of mine. My girlfriend and I left home and drove across country to California. And to answer the most likely questions, no I did not want to be a rock star, an actor, and at the time, not even a student, at least not a student in the traditional sense of the word. But I was always open to learning, and learn I did.
In those years following high school, I learned a lot about growing up. I experienced the pleasures and headaches of renting my own apartment. I debated differing political views and enjoyed speaking and often befriending those of other cultures. And after my girlfriend and I went our separate ways, I learned what it was like to lose a love I thought would last forever. Yet, what I thought was once a less than preferable turn of events became a catalyst that led me to re-evaluate my life.
Although I was happy with many aspects of my life, I knew that I had much more learning to do. And with the generosity of a loving family, I moved back home in order to pursue a more formal higher education. I was excited, albeit a little afraid – but I was focused and determined to succeed. And even though it had been several years since I last stepped into a classroom, I felt ahead of the curve, and my grades became clear indications of my committed resolve.
I had planned to earn a bachelor’s degree from the very beginning, and hope to continue for an MBA. The University of Pennsylvania has always been on the top of my list, at first, for the many reasons I stated in my introduction. But over the course of my tenure at my current junior college, the University of Pennsylvania has become the fuel that has kept me fervent and awake - unwilling to waver in my endeavors for education and a better life.
I am well aware of how exclusive transfer acceptance is among the top Universities, especially UPENN. While I would love to write that I am the best possible student, I simply can’t – not that my academic record is at fault, nor to any sort of detrimental shortcoming of mine - but such superlatives seldom really mean anything. However, I can tell you that if I were given the opportunity to study at the University of Pennsylvania I would be nothing short of happy, honored, and extremely capable. I know it will be difficult; I have no misconceptions about the academic rigors UPENN presents to their students. Yet, I welcome the challenge with a healthy amount of caution and the courage to move forward when difficulty arises. And academics aside, at the very least I know I could contribute an open mind, a little creativity, and if all else fails – a fairly good sense of humor.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Spring Roll Pimpin'
At a bar no longer than an average hallway, and in width only about half as wide, I sat with a friend and said no words of worth, while whiskey was mixed with beer and cokes. And so we sat, we drank, and we smoked - barely showing any signs of...life.
The air was thick with cigarettes and chatter. I used to hate the chatter, the random yelps in two or three other languages - ear piercing, nauseating shrills, their fucking staccato flicks of the tongue...but after a dozen or so drinks everything is just a buzz. Communication became a vague haphazardly recognizable hand signal that in all its simplicity conveyed the single most important message..."one more."
Thinking back on all that, my life was a little picturesque...not like in an awesome "Trainspotting" kind of way, hell, not even in a niche Steve Buscemi kind of way...it was more like a not even good by "B movie" standards, Lou Diamond Phillips kind of way. You know, the kind of movie where the supporting actors make it almost ok, but you can't get over Lou Diamond Phillips' extremely large and round face, accented with really teeny eyes and anorexic lips.
Actually, I take that back. My life was nothing like a Lou Diamond Phillips movie. I just really wanted to work in how much I hate Lou Diamond Phillips movies. I wasn't really sure how it would happen though - it almost worked.
There was this one time in Southern California, I was sitting in my cubicle, absolutely racked with anxiety, uneasiness, and complete unrest. I had a saying in my head that I just couldn't find a way to get out. "It's a little wet outside eh?" Nope, couldn't say it there. "Hey Miguel, the hot gymnastics coach is handing out bon bons!" Sadly, I couldn't use it there either.
Five or so hours go by and I catch a ride with one of my managers to Panda Express. For those of you not in the know, it's like a commercialized chinese fast food chain restaurant. And, while you can order large quantities of a particular item, via family style dining, they offered plate specials where you can pick a la carte a billion, yes a billion, items to make a styrofoam bushel of unnaturally colorful foods that kind of look familiar, but kind of looked alien enough to have you believe there could be a little cat in there. (holy runoff sentence batman!)
Anyways, I went about ordering my food, "I'll take the neon purple eggplant with the gooey brown sauce, and a scoop of the safety cone orange chicken, and..."
There it was, the last one, perfectly crispy, deliciously golden brown - the lone spring roll. "Gimme that spring roll!"
Now in all my excitement, I nearly forgot about the saying I had stuck in my head. My manager soon followed in line, distressed, upset, shocked, and unbelieving, "Miguel! You fucker! You took the last spring roll!" To which I gladly replied in my best Chris Tucker voice, "Don't hate the playa...hate the game." Of course I simultaneously made a fake gun gesture with my left hand and poked at his styrofoam cornucopia overflowing with monosodium glutamate (that's msg).
Ahh, it felt good. We had a good laugh, and he even made a comment about how I must've been dying to say that for so long. I don't know how he knew...but I did. I can't get over how awesome it made me feel. It wasn't necessarily up to ejaculatory standards, but you know that shiver you get when you pee? Yea, it was kinda like that, minus the part where it makes you miss the bowl entirely. Speaking of which, you ever clean your bathroom and go, "How the fuck did it get there?!"
Well, to all my friends I ever had, have, and will make in the future. No matter how much we drift apart, lose touch, and well however else you can say lose touch or drift apart; I hope, at the very least, you'll have a good laugh when you think of our friendship. Spread the legend, the myth...and above all, let them know that, "Miguel...yup...he was that guy."
The air was thick with cigarettes and chatter. I used to hate the chatter, the random yelps in two or three other languages - ear piercing, nauseating shrills, their fucking staccato flicks of the tongue...but after a dozen or so drinks everything is just a buzz. Communication became a vague haphazardly recognizable hand signal that in all its simplicity conveyed the single most important message..."one more."
Thinking back on all that, my life was a little picturesque...not like in an awesome "Trainspotting" kind of way, hell, not even in a niche Steve Buscemi kind of way...it was more like a not even good by "B movie" standards, Lou Diamond Phillips kind of way. You know, the kind of movie where the supporting actors make it almost ok, but you can't get over Lou Diamond Phillips' extremely large and round face, accented with really teeny eyes and anorexic lips.
Actually, I take that back. My life was nothing like a Lou Diamond Phillips movie. I just really wanted to work in how much I hate Lou Diamond Phillips movies. I wasn't really sure how it would happen though - it almost worked.
There was this one time in Southern California, I was sitting in my cubicle, absolutely racked with anxiety, uneasiness, and complete unrest. I had a saying in my head that I just couldn't find a way to get out. "It's a little wet outside eh?" Nope, couldn't say it there. "Hey Miguel, the hot gymnastics coach is handing out bon bons!" Sadly, I couldn't use it there either.
Five or so hours go by and I catch a ride with one of my managers to Panda Express. For those of you not in the know, it's like a commercialized chinese fast food chain restaurant. And, while you can order large quantities of a particular item, via family style dining, they offered plate specials where you can pick a la carte a billion, yes a billion, items to make a styrofoam bushel of unnaturally colorful foods that kind of look familiar, but kind of looked alien enough to have you believe there could be a little cat in there. (holy runoff sentence batman!)
Anyways, I went about ordering my food, "I'll take the neon purple eggplant with the gooey brown sauce, and a scoop of the safety cone orange chicken, and..."
There it was, the last one, perfectly crispy, deliciously golden brown - the lone spring roll. "Gimme that spring roll!"
Now in all my excitement, I nearly forgot about the saying I had stuck in my head. My manager soon followed in line, distressed, upset, shocked, and unbelieving, "Miguel! You fucker! You took the last spring roll!" To which I gladly replied in my best Chris Tucker voice, "Don't hate the playa...hate the game." Of course I simultaneously made a fake gun gesture with my left hand and poked at his styrofoam cornucopia overflowing with monosodium glutamate (that's msg).
Ahh, it felt good. We had a good laugh, and he even made a comment about how I must've been dying to say that for so long. I don't know how he knew...but I did. I can't get over how awesome it made me feel. It wasn't necessarily up to ejaculatory standards, but you know that shiver you get when you pee? Yea, it was kinda like that, minus the part where it makes you miss the bowl entirely. Speaking of which, you ever clean your bathroom and go, "How the fuck did it get there?!"
Well, to all my friends I ever had, have, and will make in the future. No matter how much we drift apart, lose touch, and well however else you can say lose touch or drift apart; I hope, at the very least, you'll have a good laugh when you think of our friendship. Spread the legend, the myth...and above all, let them know that, "Miguel...yup...he was that guy."
Thursday, September 6, 2007
with a blanket and a pillowcase
These words don't come easy, but then again, nothing seems to do so since this Fall semester. I am beside myself at night, sweating, tossing and turning in my lilliputian bed. The fan on my ceiling spins as it's brass trimming blurs in an aged golden yellow, and the wind it circulates swims across my skin. There is peace that comes with this loneliness, and while it sounds like I'm sad or at the very least a little melancholy, I am quite happy.
I've had a good Summer, I've seen a lot of smiles, and I've even seen a new place. I've taken one too many shots, I've laughed so hard I cried, and I've even quit smoking...for the most part. I've seen so many movies, I've come to terms with the fact that girls fresh outta high school are traffic stopping hot. I'm ok with the fact that I don't like the latest style in jeans, I've come to terms with coming close and my affinity for "almost there". I am ok with the fact that everyone is generally too busy, and I've remembered how to let it slide.
Here's to the Fall, the Winter, and the Spring; to Saturdays, to good mornings without "I love you-s", to good evenings with alcohol and a certain few I can truly call friends, here's to the naps I'll have between muscle aches and countless chapters read, here's to the dreams I face - armed with nothing but a blanket and my pillowcase.
I've had a good Summer, I've seen a lot of smiles, and I've even seen a new place. I've taken one too many shots, I've laughed so hard I cried, and I've even quit smoking...for the most part. I've seen so many movies, I've come to terms with the fact that girls fresh outta high school are traffic stopping hot. I'm ok with the fact that I don't like the latest style in jeans, I've come to terms with coming close and my affinity for "almost there". I am ok with the fact that everyone is generally too busy, and I've remembered how to let it slide.
Here's to the Fall, the Winter, and the Spring; to Saturdays, to good mornings without "I love you-s", to good evenings with alcohol and a certain few I can truly call friends, here's to the naps I'll have between muscle aches and countless chapters read, here's to the dreams I face - armed with nothing but a blanket and my pillowcase.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
mind fart
Since most of you don't give a damn, I'll keep this part of the blog short. Nikon just released two new cameras and four lenses. In short I couldn't sleep last night because I was too excited reading all about them. Even though I tried to make myself fall asleep through hours of masturbation - I failed and was left with cramped arms, a perfuse amount of sweat, and one gooey sock. These new cameras are absolutely fucking awesome. Not that I can afford one, and to be honest I don't even really want one - the lenses on the other hand are a different story. But I just like reading about new cameras especially when they are of the upper echelon tier. (Okay I lied, I kinda want one, but shhh don't tell Niki.)
No I'm not going to get one...there are other things on my list of material goodies. I've been eyeing this particular bicycle. I really need to get on some form of cardio. Sex would be fantastic, but I think the bike would be cheaper in the long run. There's also the tattoos, I really need to work on that my body looks undone, then there's the cell phone - my razr is static heaven even in the best areas of reception. And perhaps a new hoodie, there's one at NCC that I want - haha.
I also want a pet penguin. I'd give him a little backpack and watch him waddle around. I'd probably need a ridiculously cold basement with a pool and one of those jackets with the furry hoods.
If you're wondering why this blog seems so all over the place, it's because I've been trying to write this god damn essay for way too long and my head is spinning - no amount of gooey sock makin' fun could cure me of this. Perhaps I shouldn't be so intimate with my footwear, there's always my shirts I guess.
I'm suddenly reminded of the time I held some crying 30 year old in the mission. She roomed with these 18 year olds that had an affinity for short shorts. I was drunk...really drunk...so drunk that I knew I was safer in this icono-clash-tic stranger's apartment than on the streets in the Mission District trying to find my way home.
I think I'm going to buy a pack of white v-neck t's. But my belly is on the rise, these new protein supplements and my love for Sun Chips just keep getting the best of me. mmm...tasty. But really, the nacc gym needs to go back to it's regular schedule.
I tried reading some stuff to help me write. I fell back on Bukowski and so far all my essays inspired loneliness and the farthest thing from acceptance. Hey guys let me go to your college I'm a borderline drunk and an asshole - Bukowski really knows how to find romance in a bottle, not to mention his love for the word cunt. Speaking of which, I think I'm growing a rather strong crush on Parker Posey. And this other girl. I love the way my pets lay around me. I think I'm ending this before it gets too into it.
Boom Shaka.
No I'm not going to get one...there are other things on my list of material goodies. I've been eyeing this particular bicycle. I really need to get on some form of cardio. Sex would be fantastic, but I think the bike would be cheaper in the long run. There's also the tattoos, I really need to work on that my body looks undone, then there's the cell phone - my razr is static heaven even in the best areas of reception. And perhaps a new hoodie, there's one at NCC that I want - haha.
I also want a pet penguin. I'd give him a little backpack and watch him waddle around. I'd probably need a ridiculously cold basement with a pool and one of those jackets with the furry hoods.
If you're wondering why this blog seems so all over the place, it's because I've been trying to write this god damn essay for way too long and my head is spinning - no amount of gooey sock makin' fun could cure me of this. Perhaps I shouldn't be so intimate with my footwear, there's always my shirts I guess.
I'm suddenly reminded of the time I held some crying 30 year old in the mission. She roomed with these 18 year olds that had an affinity for short shorts. I was drunk...really drunk...so drunk that I knew I was safer in this icono-clash-tic stranger's apartment than on the streets in the Mission District trying to find my way home.
I think I'm going to buy a pack of white v-neck t's. But my belly is on the rise, these new protein supplements and my love for Sun Chips just keep getting the best of me. mmm...tasty. But really, the nacc gym needs to go back to it's regular schedule.
I tried reading some stuff to help me write. I fell back on Bukowski and so far all my essays inspired loneliness and the farthest thing from acceptance. Hey guys let me go to your college I'm a borderline drunk and an asshole - Bukowski really knows how to find romance in a bottle, not to mention his love for the word cunt. Speaking of which, I think I'm growing a rather strong crush on Parker Posey. And this other girl. I love the way my pets lay around me. I think I'm ending this before it gets too into it.
Boom Shaka.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
48 hours
So with Summer sessions over I've got a little less than two weeks before the fall semester begins. Well I should say, we've got...we as in those still in college or some form of school. I'm taking two, four credit classes. and three, three credit classes. I have a feeling this fall is going to suck. I needed a break from essay brain storming...I actually have an essay written for my application already, it just kinda sucks.
I'm growing to dislike work very much. The new kid is stab-able to say the least. But it's tough to give up the perks. I love watching movies, hell I watch two on average every day. You're thinking, how the fuck can anyone watch two movies everyday. Well, apart from a relatively boring existence I generally have a movie playing in the background whether I'm on the net, eating food, reading, or god forbid when I'm studying. Movies are essentially my radio.
I rented two modern day classics, in my opinion at least. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and City of God. The latter being subtitled, probably dubbed in english, but I hate dubbing, with a passion. Almost as much as I hate it when people whine about "reading a movie". I understand if you're tired and your eyes can't stand to read - but some people are so matter of fact about it. As if subtitles are some moronic way to view movies. I refuse to believe someone is that stupid that they can't read. Like fully grown adults, these people drive automobiles - large hunks of metal that are capable of causing irreparable destruction and death - these people have children, these people are responsible for the lives of budding youth - and they can't read subtitles. You know what's worse than stupid young people? Stupid adults. It is truly frightening to see them in a classroom environment - hell any environment, but it's only amplified by the existence of textbooks and teachers. I'm almost always caught in a state of disbelief when it happens. I think to myself, that man (or woman in many cases) has a child, or is a nurse. Oh my god they are health care professionals. It's almost sad - in fact a professor of mine ranted about this. Probably the most hilarious thing I've ever heard in school. Licenses should be given out for people to have children. Failure to comply should result in jail-time, possibly death or at least a severe beating.
Then there's the whole "widescreen" vs. "full-screen" debacle. "What's a widescreen?" For the love of fucking god!!! I don't know if it's possible to come up with a name any more self-descriptive. I could understand if it were named the doodle-fangle-dangle-dooda. Then if someone asked me, "Excuse me, what's a doodle-fangle-dangle-dooda?" I'd be more inclined to explain to them what it is. But guaranteed after they realized what it was, they'd be telling me, someone with no say on how things get named, that they should have just named it something logical, something descriptive, something simple, like I don't know - WIDE-FUCKING-SCREEN!
*as a side note, if a director shot something in a certain aspect ratio (generally what widescreen movies preserve) i'd prefer to see it that way. You wouldn't buy a painting and go, well it doesn't fit in the frame I bought, so I'll just cut it. But then again there are many who can't understand this, and simply like to watch "Wild Hogs", or such popular hits as "Premonition" - cue vomit.*
Then there's the pile of recently organized, alphabetized movie boxes. "Do you have WIld Hogs?" "Oh yes we do ma'am, it's in that pile, it's alphabetized." "Huh? How can you tell it's alphabetized?" "WHAT?! How the fuck can you tell anything is alphabetized?! Isn't alphabetization pretty fucking self-explanatory?! Here lady - A, B, C, D,.....WILD - FUCKING - HOGS!!!"
I need a new job. Anyone got any ideas. Low pay, low expectations, and low responsibility - something to tide me over until I leave for school? Help please... After all that ranting, this is me whimpering, begging, pleading - for help.
I'm growing to dislike work very much. The new kid is stab-able to say the least. But it's tough to give up the perks. I love watching movies, hell I watch two on average every day. You're thinking, how the fuck can anyone watch two movies everyday. Well, apart from a relatively boring existence I generally have a movie playing in the background whether I'm on the net, eating food, reading, or god forbid when I'm studying. Movies are essentially my radio.
I rented two modern day classics, in my opinion at least. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and City of God. The latter being subtitled, probably dubbed in english, but I hate dubbing, with a passion. Almost as much as I hate it when people whine about "reading a movie". I understand if you're tired and your eyes can't stand to read - but some people are so matter of fact about it. As if subtitles are some moronic way to view movies. I refuse to believe someone is that stupid that they can't read. Like fully grown adults, these people drive automobiles - large hunks of metal that are capable of causing irreparable destruction and death - these people have children, these people are responsible for the lives of budding youth - and they can't read subtitles. You know what's worse than stupid young people? Stupid adults. It is truly frightening to see them in a classroom environment - hell any environment, but it's only amplified by the existence of textbooks and teachers. I'm almost always caught in a state of disbelief when it happens. I think to myself, that man (or woman in many cases) has a child, or is a nurse. Oh my god they are health care professionals. It's almost sad - in fact a professor of mine ranted about this. Probably the most hilarious thing I've ever heard in school. Licenses should be given out for people to have children. Failure to comply should result in jail-time, possibly death or at least a severe beating.
Then there's the whole "widescreen" vs. "full-screen" debacle. "What's a widescreen?" For the love of fucking god!!! I don't know if it's possible to come up with a name any more self-descriptive. I could understand if it were named the doodle-fangle-dangle-dooda. Then if someone asked me, "Excuse me, what's a doodle-fangle-dangle-dooda?" I'd be more inclined to explain to them what it is. But guaranteed after they realized what it was, they'd be telling me, someone with no say on how things get named, that they should have just named it something logical, something descriptive, something simple, like I don't know - WIDE-FUCKING-SCREEN!
*as a side note, if a director shot something in a certain aspect ratio (generally what widescreen movies preserve) i'd prefer to see it that way. You wouldn't buy a painting and go, well it doesn't fit in the frame I bought, so I'll just cut it. But then again there are many who can't understand this, and simply like to watch "Wild Hogs", or such popular hits as "Premonition" - cue vomit.*
Then there's the pile of recently organized, alphabetized movie boxes. "Do you have WIld Hogs?" "Oh yes we do ma'am, it's in that pile, it's alphabetized." "Huh? How can you tell it's alphabetized?" "WHAT?! How the fuck can you tell anything is alphabetized?! Isn't alphabetization pretty fucking self-explanatory?! Here lady - A, B, C, D,.....WILD - FUCKING - HOGS!!!"
I need a new job. Anyone got any ideas. Low pay, low expectations, and low responsibility - something to tide me over until I leave for school? Help please... After all that ranting, this is me whimpering, begging, pleading - for help.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Blue Ice Pops
I woke up today dragging my feet a little. Your traditional, "what happened?" simply doesn't cut it. Maybe if I added an admittedly cliche yet classically effective, "the fuck", I'd be a little more precise in describing my failure to seize the day, night, and ultimately my inability to the seize the girl. A bit dramatic - maybe, but I bet you're still wondering, "what the fuck happened?"
I fear that I am incapable of topping that first paragraph. I guess I'll have to leave you wondering.
I fear that I am incapable of topping that first paragraph. I guess I'll have to leave you wondering.
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Lemonade - and a rabid outflow of revelation
I was in a beautiful mood today despite a most disturbing dream I had during my hangover siesta. In fact I kind of want to forget I ever had that dream...I've dreamed some fucked up shit - but this was some eerie ass Ed Gein shit - yea...
Anyways...I had a great Thursday - maybe a little too much beer but then again, that's generally how great Thursdays go. My day began with work, never really an enjoyable thing when you work at a video store - but thankfully, it's never really a terrible thing either. Afterwards was a two hour crash session with my physics textbook. Thanks to my inability to stay completely awake in class, I had a fare amount of catching up to do. Of course there was the gym, then shower, then class, followed by an almost aced exam. What's so great about all of that? Nothing really. Work is work, the gym's the gym, and an aced exam is just another aced exam. But afterwards, there was an old friend, new conversation, live music and of course - beer.
We talked for a while in the bar's outdoor seating area before the band began to play. And the fact that I hadn't eaten a full meal since breakfast became quite evident when I was just a couple beers into the evening and my buzz was quickly becoming much more than I had originally intended. I was a bit embarrassed especially when I knew I had to order a couple waters for myself to even out. But I wasn't about to let myself get sloppy drunk either.
The music was loud, and I recognized one of the bands from the Wild Flower Cafe at the close of the Southside Film Festival. And the other act was ridiculous to say the least. The lead singer was constantly on the floor screaming, singing, whatever you wanna call it. Then he took off half of his clothes, thankfully it was just the top half. But the highlight of the evening's musical acts was a solo 3 song act by the lead singer of "Jazzam", a semi-local self-proclaimed jazz-soul act (holy hyphens Batman). The big man's got soul. This guy belted out Al Green, Marvin Gaye, and one of his own personal songs, I can only refer to it as awesomeness.
Right around one-thirty, we headed over to a place that sold pizza. It was a weird mix of a bar, a club, and a pizza joint. While the place sounds interesting, it really wasn't. The frat boy, dude on dude love was funny at best, and at it's worse it was a cavalcade of body odor and an abundance of cologne - not to mention several examples of Bethlehem's not so finest, over make-uped, faux tanned, bleach blond, Lehigh University broads. But they did have pizza and an unoccupied outdoor area with tables and chairs. She was hesitant at first when I asked her if she wanted a slice. But she fibs with a telling smile that's unmistakable. And even if she didn't, who the hell doesn't want pizza after a dozen or so beers? Which I by the way was thoroughly impressed with. She easily drank a couple more beers than me, and showed no signs of sloppiness.
We sat out on that lawn furniture laden patio for roughly two hours, talking about Spain, California, girls, boys, loves, and hates. We even discussed the very essence of pizza. She was a tall glass of lemonade on these warm Summer nights, a most welcome diversion from all that was the Lehigh Valley. I've said it before, and it still holds true, this town is a great place to miss.
I took the inside roads to take her home, as I've grown pretty aware of where the cops may be hiding. I was in no situation to afford a DUI, then again, who really ever is? I parked in front of her house and we said our goodbyes. With a hug, some curious smiles, and a promise to see each other again, she was off. I stayed for a few seconds to make sure she got in her house ok, and proceeded to get lost in her neighborhood. I do that quite often, getting lost I mean. Wonderful Miguel, it was just two damn turns from the main road, seriously I'm horrible with that stuff, and I'm even worse when I've got something on my mind.
I bet you're thinking, I read that whole blog and no sex? - not even a kiss? - not even an attempt? I'm not as bold as I used to be. And quite frankly rejection sucks, notice how they don't say it's better to have tried and be shut down, than to have never tried before. Besides, I was sober enough to realize that I may have been drunk enough to misconstrue something that wasn't. (Holy convoluted sentence structure Batman.)
Regardless, I had a fun time, although I may have suffered a slight hearing loss, I feel that good times are all about a little give and take. But the next day, after my nap...and the uber creepy dream, I came across a few words and a photo about San Francisco. The photo strangely enough was taken no more than two blocks from where I used to work. I guess it's not really that strange, I'm sure a lot of people travel through downtown. But a massive pang of anger, sadness, and regret hit all at once. Fuck I was so close, I could have made it. But all the drinking and the durgs...I was in no state of mind to succeed...frankly there is no excuse, I was simply too fucking weak to deal with shit. I could have gone to school out there, I could've made it work. Fuck everything else, I have no one to blame but me. Perhaps that's the root of my anger, my real inability to move on, or whatever whomever wants to call it. But fuck if I tried everything, I really didn't. I drowned every problem I had in equal parts beer, liquor, and drugs. I faked a sense of reasoning, I fucking gave up. Fuck it. I'm dealing with it. I'll always deal. I'm getting my shit together and I'm getting the fuck out - the right way, or at least a better way than I did before.
Anyways...I had a great Thursday - maybe a little too much beer but then again, that's generally how great Thursdays go. My day began with work, never really an enjoyable thing when you work at a video store - but thankfully, it's never really a terrible thing either. Afterwards was a two hour crash session with my physics textbook. Thanks to my inability to stay completely awake in class, I had a fare amount of catching up to do. Of course there was the gym, then shower, then class, followed by an almost aced exam. What's so great about all of that? Nothing really. Work is work, the gym's the gym, and an aced exam is just another aced exam. But afterwards, there was an old friend, new conversation, live music and of course - beer.
We talked for a while in the bar's outdoor seating area before the band began to play. And the fact that I hadn't eaten a full meal since breakfast became quite evident when I was just a couple beers into the evening and my buzz was quickly becoming much more than I had originally intended. I was a bit embarrassed especially when I knew I had to order a couple waters for myself to even out. But I wasn't about to let myself get sloppy drunk either.
The music was loud, and I recognized one of the bands from the Wild Flower Cafe at the close of the Southside Film Festival. And the other act was ridiculous to say the least. The lead singer was constantly on the floor screaming, singing, whatever you wanna call it. Then he took off half of his clothes, thankfully it was just the top half. But the highlight of the evening's musical acts was a solo 3 song act by the lead singer of "Jazzam", a semi-local self-proclaimed jazz-soul act (holy hyphens Batman). The big man's got soul. This guy belted out Al Green, Marvin Gaye, and one of his own personal songs, I can only refer to it as awesomeness.
Right around one-thirty, we headed over to a place that sold pizza. It was a weird mix of a bar, a club, and a pizza joint. While the place sounds interesting, it really wasn't. The frat boy, dude on dude love was funny at best, and at it's worse it was a cavalcade of body odor and an abundance of cologne - not to mention several examples of Bethlehem's not so finest, over make-uped, faux tanned, bleach blond, Lehigh University broads. But they did have pizza and an unoccupied outdoor area with tables and chairs. She was hesitant at first when I asked her if she wanted a slice. But she fibs with a telling smile that's unmistakable. And even if she didn't, who the hell doesn't want pizza after a dozen or so beers? Which I by the way was thoroughly impressed with. She easily drank a couple more beers than me, and showed no signs of sloppiness.
We sat out on that lawn furniture laden patio for roughly two hours, talking about Spain, California, girls, boys, loves, and hates. We even discussed the very essence of pizza. She was a tall glass of lemonade on these warm Summer nights, a most welcome diversion from all that was the Lehigh Valley. I've said it before, and it still holds true, this town is a great place to miss.
I took the inside roads to take her home, as I've grown pretty aware of where the cops may be hiding. I was in no situation to afford a DUI, then again, who really ever is? I parked in front of her house and we said our goodbyes. With a hug, some curious smiles, and a promise to see each other again, she was off. I stayed for a few seconds to make sure she got in her house ok, and proceeded to get lost in her neighborhood. I do that quite often, getting lost I mean. Wonderful Miguel, it was just two damn turns from the main road, seriously I'm horrible with that stuff, and I'm even worse when I've got something on my mind.
I bet you're thinking, I read that whole blog and no sex? - not even a kiss? - not even an attempt? I'm not as bold as I used to be. And quite frankly rejection sucks, notice how they don't say it's better to have tried and be shut down, than to have never tried before. Besides, I was sober enough to realize that I may have been drunk enough to misconstrue something that wasn't. (Holy convoluted sentence structure Batman.)
Regardless, I had a fun time, although I may have suffered a slight hearing loss, I feel that good times are all about a little give and take. But the next day, after my nap...and the uber creepy dream, I came across a few words and a photo about San Francisco. The photo strangely enough was taken no more than two blocks from where I used to work. I guess it's not really that strange, I'm sure a lot of people travel through downtown. But a massive pang of anger, sadness, and regret hit all at once. Fuck I was so close, I could have made it. But all the drinking and the durgs...I was in no state of mind to succeed...frankly there is no excuse, I was simply too fucking weak to deal with shit. I could have gone to school out there, I could've made it work. Fuck everything else, I have no one to blame but me. Perhaps that's the root of my anger, my real inability to move on, or whatever whomever wants to call it. But fuck if I tried everything, I really didn't. I drowned every problem I had in equal parts beer, liquor, and drugs. I faked a sense of reasoning, I fucking gave up. Fuck it. I'm dealing with it. I'll always deal. I'm getting my shit together and I'm getting the fuck out - the right way, or at least a better way than I did before.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Temper, temper, temper + good photos
I've lost count of how many days I've gone without smoking. Which I guess is a good thing. Even when I drink, I don't really crave it anymore. Unless of course if I am drunker than your average drunk - then I'll most likely light one up. Thankfully that hasn't happened in a while. As an unwanted side-effect, I'm even a bigger asshole when I don't smoke - but only when something triggers it. Unfortunately, it doesn't take much. I'm working on it...
On other health related news, I've began a self imposed stretching regimen at night. I think it's mostly due to a recent leg workout, but I feel that I've lost a lot of flexibility. I walk like an old man with a bad hip and a hemorrhoid. Why a hemorrhoid? Well, my ass cheeks are tender. I know what I said...but it's true, they are tender, and it hurts when sit down.
Oh and I had my first exam in Physics today, it was pretty cake. I can't stand some of my classmates though. What I hate more than the moms that read ahead and talk to you like they're your own mom, are the high school kids that think they are special. I simply asked this one little bitch in my group (I fucking hate working in groups) if she got her lab done. And she says in a matter of fact kinda way, "ugh, I work, so no." I just put on my headphones and wished I had a cigarette - yes to smoke, and then put it out on her eye. As if no one else in the class, primarily filled with adults, work. Stupid fucking dumb cunt...*sigh...see what I mean about the temper? Normally I wouldn't have even cared, but nowadays I have this overwhelming inclination to just get angry and put out nonexistent cigarettes in someone's eye.
Ok, enough about all that stuff. It's almost over anyways, 5 more weeks. I love summer sessions. They are actually a lot easier. I mean 6 weeks and you're done - barely a blink in terms of academia. Plus, you're only studying for one exam at a time, and the professors (at least the ones I've had) are quite good at teaching so much in so little time. And don't think summer sessions cover less...no, they are required to cover the same amount in order to qualify for transfer/credits. I don't really know what the hubbub is about Physics. Other than the fact that I'm fighting a monstrous urge to fall asleep, it's a pretty easy class.
I also found a non-credit class brochure. One of the more note-worthy classes I stumbled upon was "Partner Massage". Obviously, a "partner" is key to the class - but I thought, wouldn't it be kinda funny if I signed up and showed up by myself? And while everyone is rubbing someone else, I'd just sit there, or maybe lay there, and rub oils all over myself - breaking every so often to say, "Oooo yea...that's nice." Hahaha - I might just do that, hell it's only 20 bucks per person. Anyone wanna come with?? If not, it's cool, I'm used to rubbing myself.
Now for internet shindigs - I found this web gallery, who's photographer won awards the "Village Voice's" 2006 Nightlife Photographer of the Year Award. And as the award implies, this man gets to party hard and gets paid to do it. Not to mention all the hot booty he shoots naked. Awesome. He is my hero. If I were that cool, and led a life so rad, I'd say fuck health. I'm drinking, smoking, and eating hotdogs until the sun came up. Then I'd fuck supermodels, while eating a hamburger. Then I'd stuff pizza into her mouth and make her eat it - and laugh as moments later she's puking in the toilet to maintain her figure. Hahahaha. That would rock so hard. Seriously, check his shit out. Ambrel Photography.
For equally as cool, but infinitely more innocent (though comparably as fun), George Lange's website - Lange Photography - contains a myriad of his work, notably a video flip-book with some of his more popular shoots, featuring some familiar famous faces. Check it out! Click here for the video: Lange Video.
Take care.
On other health related news, I've began a self imposed stretching regimen at night. I think it's mostly due to a recent leg workout, but I feel that I've lost a lot of flexibility. I walk like an old man with a bad hip and a hemorrhoid. Why a hemorrhoid? Well, my ass cheeks are tender. I know what I said...but it's true, they are tender, and it hurts when sit down.
Oh and I had my first exam in Physics today, it was pretty cake. I can't stand some of my classmates though. What I hate more than the moms that read ahead and talk to you like they're your own mom, are the high school kids that think they are special. I simply asked this one little bitch in my group (I fucking hate working in groups) if she got her lab done. And she says in a matter of fact kinda way, "ugh, I work, so no." I just put on my headphones and wished I had a cigarette - yes to smoke, and then put it out on her eye. As if no one else in the class, primarily filled with adults, work. Stupid fucking dumb cunt...*sigh...see what I mean about the temper? Normally I wouldn't have even cared, but nowadays I have this overwhelming inclination to just get angry and put out nonexistent cigarettes in someone's eye.
Ok, enough about all that stuff. It's almost over anyways, 5 more weeks. I love summer sessions. They are actually a lot easier. I mean 6 weeks and you're done - barely a blink in terms of academia. Plus, you're only studying for one exam at a time, and the professors (at least the ones I've had) are quite good at teaching so much in so little time. And don't think summer sessions cover less...no, they are required to cover the same amount in order to qualify for transfer/credits. I don't really know what the hubbub is about Physics. Other than the fact that I'm fighting a monstrous urge to fall asleep, it's a pretty easy class.
I also found a non-credit class brochure. One of the more note-worthy classes I stumbled upon was "Partner Massage". Obviously, a "partner" is key to the class - but I thought, wouldn't it be kinda funny if I signed up and showed up by myself? And while everyone is rubbing someone else, I'd just sit there, or maybe lay there, and rub oils all over myself - breaking every so often to say, "Oooo yea...that's nice." Hahaha - I might just do that, hell it's only 20 bucks per person. Anyone wanna come with?? If not, it's cool, I'm used to rubbing myself.
Now for internet shindigs - I found this web gallery, who's photographer won awards the "Village Voice's" 2006 Nightlife Photographer of the Year Award. And as the award implies, this man gets to party hard and gets paid to do it. Not to mention all the hot booty he shoots naked. Awesome. He is my hero. If I were that cool, and led a life so rad, I'd say fuck health. I'm drinking, smoking, and eating hotdogs until the sun came up. Then I'd fuck supermodels, while eating a hamburger. Then I'd stuff pizza into her mouth and make her eat it - and laugh as moments later she's puking in the toilet to maintain her figure. Hahahaha. That would rock so hard. Seriously, check his shit out. Ambrel Photography.
For equally as cool, but infinitely more innocent (though comparably as fun), George Lange's website - Lange Photography - contains a myriad of his work, notably a video flip-book with some of his more popular shoots, featuring some familiar famous faces. Check it out! Click here for the video: Lange Video.
Take care.
Friday, July 13, 2007
It always ends in...
As I took Bruiser to yet another "hospital" (read: mechanic), I felt a breeze that reminded me of 1990. I was seven and doing "bad things" was still just a hobby instead of a bad habit. It was one of those moments - the kind that causes me to talk to myself, the kind of moment that makes for an awkward silence when caught by someone else. Kind of like flatulence, except it generally doesn't smell, nor is there a feeling of relief, but the fear is strikingly similar to that of soiling myself...odd I know. I sense digression...
Why does it always lead to poop? I guess a lot of things in life end in poop, or at the very least a trip to the bathroom. I don't care if your meal was prepared by a world renowned chef using only the finest and freshest ingredients - it will still end in shit. If it doesn't end in shit, well you've got some other problems you should be looking into. Sadly, going number two is often the highlight of my day. In fact, I routinely fight the urge to shit in order to build up some excitement, pile on the intensity, you know squeeze every last drop of enjoyment out of it. I refer to this as my battle against nature. The ferocity of this frequently leads to copious amounts of sweat, shaking, and malodorous scents...I'm sorry, I fear I've let this topic string on for too long.
So back to 1990. What a year...I remember not wanting it to change. I don't think it had much to do with my life per se, but I thought that 1990 just sounded so nice. The numbers worked so well together - say it - nineteen ninety...see? Ok, maybe you don't feel the same way, but I did and I really didn't want it to change. I couldn't understand why it had to change. I figured, phonetically it was such a neat, as in clean, orderly, and simple, sounding year. There was really no need to change it. I finally got over it when I convinced myself that although 1991 didn't sound as nice, written, the year 1991 made for a nice palindrome. Tradeoffs I guess, much like growing up. Can't have your phonetics and plaindrome-s too...?
Man, being seven was weird. I remember wearing really ridiculous pants and obsessing about being cool. Don't lie, you wore them too - and if you were in your teens, it's even worse, at least I was just seven. (*note: that's what they are going to say about all the ridiculous looking hipsters and their skinny jeans, anorexic dudes, fat chicks, and ridiculous dude haircuts - girls it's ok to have fancy hair, dudes, it's not, well unless you're gay, then I guess the rules are different. Back to the pants...) My pants not only sported the most gaudy, neon ridden textile design, it also had a gartered waist, and as an added bonus, gartered ankles. Yup...I was stylin'. Why did they ever make gartered ankles? What's even worse is that they made them in larger sizes for adults...and wait, just when you thought it didn't get any worse, the adults actually wore them. Sure, I can understand certain lines of work that would benefit from gartered ankles, but for casual wear, no, there is no need for gartered ankles! None. Not one. Not a bit. Not any.
Perhaps you're thinking, I'm being a bit harsh on gartered ankles. After all they may prevent some unwanted objects from entering through the ankles...I guess. Or, they might prevent items from leaving through the ankles. The only thing that comes mind is poop. I guess they thought, hey, if you shit yourself, don't worry. It's staying in your pants, and if you're wearing loose undies, it'll keep your ankles warm. But really? Wouldn't you rather have the option to "shake-a-leg" and let it drop to the floor? I would. Well I guess we're back to poop. Hmm...*Sigh.
There was more to this blog...I think I was about ramble on about childhood memories, but then the whole poop thing presented itself as such a nice, neat and easy way to end this damn thing. So maybe next time?
Why does it always lead to poop? I guess a lot of things in life end in poop, or at the very least a trip to the bathroom. I don't care if your meal was prepared by a world renowned chef using only the finest and freshest ingredients - it will still end in shit. If it doesn't end in shit, well you've got some other problems you should be looking into. Sadly, going number two is often the highlight of my day. In fact, I routinely fight the urge to shit in order to build up some excitement, pile on the intensity, you know squeeze every last drop of enjoyment out of it. I refer to this as my battle against nature. The ferocity of this frequently leads to copious amounts of sweat, shaking, and malodorous scents...I'm sorry, I fear I've let this topic string on for too long.So back to 1990. What a year...I remember not wanting it to change. I don't think it had much to do with my life per se, but I thought that 1990 just sounded so nice. The numbers worked so well together - say it - nineteen ninety...see? Ok, maybe you don't feel the same way, but I did and I really didn't want it to change. I couldn't understand why it had to change. I figured, phonetically it was such a neat, as in clean, orderly, and simple, sounding year. There was really no need to change it. I finally got over it when I convinced myself that although 1991 didn't sound as nice, written, the year 1991 made for a nice palindrome. Tradeoffs I guess, much like growing up. Can't have your phonetics and plaindrome-s too...?
Man, being seven was weird. I remember wearing really ridiculous pants and obsessing about being cool. Don't lie, you wore them too - and if you were in your teens, it's even worse, at least I was just seven. (*note: that's what they are going to say about all the ridiculous looking hipsters and their skinny jeans, anorexic dudes, fat chicks, and ridiculous dude haircuts - girls it's ok to have fancy hair, dudes, it's not, well unless you're gay, then I guess the rules are different. Back to the pants...) My pants not only sported the most gaudy, neon ridden textile design, it also had a gartered waist, and as an added bonus, gartered ankles. Yup...I was stylin'. Why did they ever make gartered ankles? What's even worse is that they made them in larger sizes for adults...and wait, just when you thought it didn't get any worse, the adults actually wore them. Sure, I can understand certain lines of work that would benefit from gartered ankles, but for casual wear, no, there is no need for gartered ankles! None. Not one. Not a bit. Not any.
Perhaps you're thinking, I'm being a bit harsh on gartered ankles. After all they may prevent some unwanted objects from entering through the ankles...I guess. Or, they might prevent items from leaving through the ankles. The only thing that comes mind is poop. I guess they thought, hey, if you shit yourself, don't worry. It's staying in your pants, and if you're wearing loose undies, it'll keep your ankles warm. But really? Wouldn't you rather have the option to "shake-a-leg" and let it drop to the floor? I would. Well I guess we're back to poop. Hmm...*Sigh.
There was more to this blog...I think I was about ramble on about childhood memories, but then the whole poop thing presented itself as such a nice, neat and easy way to end this damn thing. So maybe next time?
Thursday, July 12, 2007
I guess things come in waves...
Is it just me or is that chick from Harry Potter getting fucking hot?! How many more years? Really...how many more years until she's legal? Hot damn - I totally dig redheads. So anyways...I took Bruiser (my truck) into the shop today for his regularly scheduled oil change and guess what? It turns out that she's got some serious front brake problems that is going to cost me roughly +$1000.00. There goes pretty much any money and a social life for the next couple of months. =(
As you can imagine I'm a little bummed about that. But otherwise I had a pretty enjoyable weekend. Barbecues a plenty...and jello shots...and...well...ya know me and jello shots...
Well, that's about the best part of my week- after that it all went pretty much downhill on Monday. As I mentioned before, Bruiser is in the shop, my two photos on Flickr's Explore were booted off, and I am incredibly sore. It's been roughly two weeks since I last lifted - and my god my boobies really hurt...and my arms, and my back...soon my shoulders, my abs and my legs too! Yay! =(
Oh, and Physics 101 just started. The professor's pretty laid back, and he's got a fair sense of humor. I have to say, I've been incredibly lucky with my professors at NCC. But...these math-centric courses run rather slim on the eye-candy. I mean sure the math interests me on some level, but we all know what keeps me awake in class. Yes...hot booty. Nothing but the hot hot booty. No I'm kidding - I do have goals, primarily a good paying job, money, and owning several homes in various parts of the country and the world...hahaha no, it's the hot hot booty. Well yes, those other goals do exist but I could get A's without being awake, the hot hot booty on the other hand makes keeping my eyes open worth it, and provides me with the facade of "participation".
I also watched American Beauty again, in what must've been 2 or 3 years. Every time I watch it, I can't wait until I have the shitty life Kevin Spacey does - and then say, fuck it - quit my job, flip burgers, abuse drugs, and basically be an all around rockin' and a rollin'...dude. I particularly liked the part where he quits his job and his letter reads..."and at least once a day I sneak off to the bathroom to jerk off and fantasize about a life that doesn't so closely resemble hell." Well maybe I didn't get it word for word, but you get the gist.
And what would my blog be without a "check this ridiculous shit I found on the internet!" segment? FACEBALL!. Press play and love it. Dude, I'm so pumped. I don't really know what it's all about, except that people get hit in the face with balls...then I had a debate with..myself...about which would be better - faceball's concept or...people getting hit in the balls with faces?! A little switcharoo. A teeny flip flop...an insy - ok you get it, I know. I'm kind of diggin' the whole "preview" genre of videography. I'm planning on several things on that front actually. The next episode is getting worked out in my head, along with a possible video blog. The latter would seem really odd, I'd have to find a way to make it good...without resorting to masturbation...eh. Difficult, I know.
Anyways, I'm beat, and I'm sure so are you. Rock 'n Roll.
As you can imagine I'm a little bummed about that. But otherwise I had a pretty enjoyable weekend. Barbecues a plenty...and jello shots...and...well...ya know me and jello shots...
Well, that's about the best part of my week- after that it all went pretty much downhill on Monday. As I mentioned before, Bruiser is in the shop, my two photos on Flickr's Explore were booted off, and I am incredibly sore. It's been roughly two weeks since I last lifted - and my god my boobies really hurt...and my arms, and my back...soon my shoulders, my abs and my legs too! Yay! =(
Oh, and Physics 101 just started. The professor's pretty laid back, and he's got a fair sense of humor. I have to say, I've been incredibly lucky with my professors at NCC. But...these math-centric courses run rather slim on the eye-candy. I mean sure the math interests me on some level, but we all know what keeps me awake in class. Yes...hot booty. Nothing but the hot hot booty. No I'm kidding - I do have goals, primarily a good paying job, money, and owning several homes in various parts of the country and the world...hahaha no, it's the hot hot booty. Well yes, those other goals do exist but I could get A's without being awake, the hot hot booty on the other hand makes keeping my eyes open worth it, and provides me with the facade of "participation".
I also watched American Beauty again, in what must've been 2 or 3 years. Every time I watch it, I can't wait until I have the shitty life Kevin Spacey does - and then say, fuck it - quit my job, flip burgers, abuse drugs, and basically be an all around rockin' and a rollin'...dude. I particularly liked the part where he quits his job and his letter reads..."and at least once a day I sneak off to the bathroom to jerk off and fantasize about a life that doesn't so closely resemble hell." Well maybe I didn't get it word for word, but you get the gist.
And what would my blog be without a "check this ridiculous shit I found on the internet!" segment? FACEBALL!. Press play and love it. Dude, I'm so pumped. I don't really know what it's all about, except that people get hit in the face with balls...then I had a debate with..myself...about which would be better - faceball's concept or...people getting hit in the balls with faces?! A little switcharoo. A teeny flip flop...an insy - ok you get it, I know. I'm kind of diggin' the whole "preview" genre of videography. I'm planning on several things on that front actually. The next episode is getting worked out in my head, along with a possible video blog. The latter would seem really odd, I'd have to find a way to make it good...without resorting to masturbation...eh. Difficult, I know.
Anyways, I'm beat, and I'm sure so are you. Rock 'n Roll.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Flickr, Alaska, and a Blonde...
I've thought about the prospect of leaving, it's going to happen soon enough. In the next year or so, I will hopefully be in Philadelphia. But we all know that's not what I'm really talking about. I've thought about Europa, quite possibly the West Coast again...then I thought - what about somewhere completely off the wall. Like Alaska. Sadly, I'm not much for winter sports, or else Alaska would be far more enticing. But what a conversation starter..."Really? What made you move out there?" "Well, I heard the fish was really good. No, seriously, it was really good." And they'd be forced to laugh and probably think I was a huge ass-hole for not answering their question honestly.
But really, I don't know why I'd want to move to Alaska. From what little I know of the place, it doesn't seem to have much of what I'm looking for in terms of an urban atmosphere. But I've always wanted one of those jackets with the furry hood lining - and it's just a bit ridiculous anywhere but Alaska, or maybe the North Pole, and Greenland, or Russia...you get the point. I also want to be part of a dog sledding team. Plus I hear the cold temperature and wind have this cool effect on your skin. I think I'd look good with a "weathered" face, like Clint Eastwood...damnit, if only I could grow a beard. Hmm, perhaps Alaska is a no go. I didn't think about the beard. I'm sure it's a prerequisite for males entering the State. "Excuse me sir...you have no beard. Guards! Take him away!"
Such is the way most of my dreams go...damn my inability to grow a beard...damn you to hell. I don't think I'd even grow a beard if I could. I mean it would probably be a real hassle eating potato salad. In fact, I bet it would be a pain eating all sorts of food. At least if you don't like food hanging off your face. But if you do, then I'd venture to say that a beard would be a top commodity. No - no beard for me, but...I would gladly rock a 5 o'clock shadow. I think they are the coolest things ever. It's a proper amount of "I don't give a fuck" mixed with, "yea I'm ruggedly good-looking". My jealousy is raging. It's like a giant flaming pole of envy. Why a pole? Well to that, I ask, why a ball? Seriously, why is anything set to violent flames always a ball? Aren't other shapes just as worthy descriptors when dealing with flaming objects? Why am I even talking about this?
On to some good news. While taking a gander at my personal myspace page and I noticed my flickr widget had a new bubble...it claims that one of my photos made it to flickr's "explore". After much perusal, I stumbled across a website more popularly referred to as "flickr toys" and used their web app called "scout" to find none other than Presti with his pants down as number 486 (out of 500 - hahaha) on April 28, 2007. Awesome! I don't really know what that means, but I'm glad I made it, at least one time. I barely made it, but when you consider the volume of photos uploaded to flickr per day, making it in the top 500 is like the top 0.5%. Yea - so I'm kind of a big deal now. No, I'm not, but I can still pretend. There are flickr members with over 100+ photos in there. I also found out that there are several groups devoted to tracking flickr's explore - and sadly it seems that it has ruined many people's lives. It's been referred to as "interestingness anxiety" apart from many other things. Funny thing with technology, it comes with newfangled disorders. Now that's interesting.
Also, I'd like to put out a public apology to a former classmate of mine, who shall remain anonymous, but I'll refer to her as blondie. Blondie and I had Chemistry 1 together back in high school. I did rather poorly in that class primarily due to my all too familiar "I'm Miguel and make funnies in class instead of paying attention" attitude. Blondie was a nice girl, relatively quiet back in the day, whom I sexually harassed incessantly every day I saw her. Another possibility of my poor performance in Chemistry could be attributed to my constant day dreaming of various sexual positions and acts performed with Blondie. Incase that was misleading, I did not have sexual relations with Blondie...but I definitely thought about it. So anyways, I run into her at the good ol' Tally Ho and proceed to small talk and thanks to several pitchers of Blue Moon (it was on special for 6 dollars), I repeatedly told her how I wanted to "fuck the shit out of her" back in high school. Oddly enough her response was, "aww. Thanks!" Yes, well, ok then. I'm sorry for my behavior. But not really - because I really did want to fuck the shit ouf her. *shrugs shoulders
On that note - fare thee well. And don't forget to wipe extra clean after pooping during the Summer months - let's keep certain things from getting overly hot and steamy. Agreed?
Update: 2 photos on flickr's explore!!
But really, I don't know why I'd want to move to Alaska. From what little I know of the place, it doesn't seem to have much of what I'm looking for in terms of an urban atmosphere. But I've always wanted one of those jackets with the furry hood lining - and it's just a bit ridiculous anywhere but Alaska, or maybe the North Pole, and Greenland, or Russia...you get the point. I also want to be part of a dog sledding team. Plus I hear the cold temperature and wind have this cool effect on your skin. I think I'd look good with a "weathered" face, like Clint Eastwood...damnit, if only I could grow a beard. Hmm, perhaps Alaska is a no go. I didn't think about the beard. I'm sure it's a prerequisite for males entering the State. "Excuse me sir...you have no beard. Guards! Take him away!"
Such is the way most of my dreams go...damn my inability to grow a beard...damn you to hell. I don't think I'd even grow a beard if I could. I mean it would probably be a real hassle eating potato salad. In fact, I bet it would be a pain eating all sorts of food. At least if you don't like food hanging off your face. But if you do, then I'd venture to say that a beard would be a top commodity. No - no beard for me, but...I would gladly rock a 5 o'clock shadow. I think they are the coolest things ever. It's a proper amount of "I don't give a fuck" mixed with, "yea I'm ruggedly good-looking". My jealousy is raging. It's like a giant flaming pole of envy. Why a pole? Well to that, I ask, why a ball? Seriously, why is anything set to violent flames always a ball? Aren't other shapes just as worthy descriptors when dealing with flaming objects? Why am I even talking about this?
On to some good news. While taking a gander at my personal myspace page and I noticed my flickr widget had a new bubble...it claims that one of my photos made it to flickr's "explore". After much perusal, I stumbled across a website more popularly referred to as "flickr toys" and used their web app called "scout" to find none other than Presti with his pants down as number 486 (out of 500 - hahaha) on April 28, 2007. Awesome! I don't really know what that means, but I'm glad I made it, at least one time. I barely made it, but when you consider the volume of photos uploaded to flickr per day, making it in the top 500 is like the top 0.5%. Yea - so I'm kind of a big deal now. No, I'm not, but I can still pretend. There are flickr members with over 100+ photos in there. I also found out that there are several groups devoted to tracking flickr's explore - and sadly it seems that it has ruined many people's lives. It's been referred to as "interestingness anxiety" apart from many other things. Funny thing with technology, it comes with newfangled disorders. Now that's interesting.Also, I'd like to put out a public apology to a former classmate of mine, who shall remain anonymous, but I'll refer to her as blondie. Blondie and I had Chemistry 1 together back in high school. I did rather poorly in that class primarily due to my all too familiar "I'm Miguel and make funnies in class instead of paying attention" attitude. Blondie was a nice girl, relatively quiet back in the day, whom I sexually harassed incessantly every day I saw her. Another possibility of my poor performance in Chemistry could be attributed to my constant day dreaming of various sexual positions and acts performed with Blondie. Incase that was misleading, I did not have sexual relations with Blondie...but I definitely thought about it. So anyways, I run into her at the good ol' Tally Ho and proceed to small talk and thanks to several pitchers of Blue Moon (it was on special for 6 dollars), I repeatedly told her how I wanted to "fuck the shit out of her" back in high school. Oddly enough her response was, "aww. Thanks!" Yes, well, ok then. I'm sorry for my behavior. But not really - because I really did want to fuck the shit ouf her. *shrugs shoulders
On that note - fare thee well. And don't forget to wipe extra clean after pooping during the Summer months - let's keep certain things from getting overly hot and steamy. Agreed?
Update: 2 photos on flickr's explore!!
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Give me liberty, or give me...
I know it seems like I've been getting extremely excited over the most mundane events - honestly, that's because my life kind of sucks. Anyways, I just found out that my new-to-me computer/office chair can have it's height adjusted. My back was really starting to hurt and I was overly elated at my newfound discovery. If you think my excitement over this news is embarrassing, well you'll love how I found out. I was really bored and no one was home, and instead of masturbating, I thought, hmm I haven't made myself dizzy in a good long while. So, with the fervor of a pubescent 12 year old, I spun myself as fast and as hard as I could in my chair. At first I thought it was just part of the post-chair-spin-dizziness, but I soon realized I was at a more comfortable sitting height. What was originally a ridiculous waste of time (spinning around in my chair), turned into a fruitful and exponentially beneficial experience. YAY for being stupid! HIP HIP...HOORAY!
Hmm, my joy has subsided quicker than an erection post-porno induced eruption. Back to the mundane I guess. I recently saw a Dane Cook skit - say what you will about the man, this skit of his held some valuable insight. I believe it was titled, "Things that guys want more than sex." WHA?! I know, it sounds insane, right? Is there more to life? I sure hope so, because if there isn't, I'm going to start planning my funeral. But he starts off by talking about a diamond heist. Every guy wants to be part of a diamond heist, complete with automatic gunfire while running down the street screaming, "Where's the van?! It was supposed to fucking be here!" Dane, you're right, that would be fucking intense. Then he talked about owning a pet monkey - and I guess that's cool, but I'm partial to my cats, then I thought about another thing I'd enjoy more than sex...a zombie outbreak. Dude, I've written about it before - c'mon. Combine that with super-spy skills a la Jason Bourne (in Bourne Identity), a diamond heist, and a zombie outbreak...Ghandi! Give me a pizza and I'm fucking set.
But then I thought about it some more...no sex...no sex whatsoever...did that include oral sex? Because, I don't know if anything is better than oral sex. Think about it. No matter how cool, exciting, educational, beneficial, fulfilling, heartwarming - something is - it would be ten times better if you got head while doing it. Eating pizza + head = nummy nummy! Driving in the getaway van while shooting zombies and getting head...gez, the possibilities are endless. If there is a God, I believe he/she gave us mouths mainly for oral pleasure. Eating? Only seconday. Speaking? Tertiary. Oral sex? El numero uno my friends. Head is like a universal box of sprinkles on this ice cream of a life. Patrick Henry was censored, he didn't really want to die for liberty, I'll tell you what he really said, but ya know, honesty doesn't sell history books. "Give me liberty, or give me head." Damnit that should be on a t-shirt!
On one final note, I urge all of you to check out the Pulp Fiction Soundtrack...and the movie as well if you already haven't. I've managed to "find" myself a copy - and I am groovin' out. It's basically a collection of songs that make you want to be cool, kill people, and somehow make sense of life in the midst of all the blood, violence and sex.
To my fellow late night junkies, internet mavens, and social deviants - go fuck yourselves and the jeans you sit in.
Hmm, my joy has subsided quicker than an erection post-porno induced eruption. Back to the mundane I guess. I recently saw a Dane Cook skit - say what you will about the man, this skit of his held some valuable insight. I believe it was titled, "Things that guys want more than sex." WHA?! I know, it sounds insane, right? Is there more to life? I sure hope so, because if there isn't, I'm going to start planning my funeral. But he starts off by talking about a diamond heist. Every guy wants to be part of a diamond heist, complete with automatic gunfire while running down the street screaming, "Where's the van?! It was supposed to fucking be here!" Dane, you're right, that would be fucking intense. Then he talked about owning a pet monkey - and I guess that's cool, but I'm partial to my cats, then I thought about another thing I'd enjoy more than sex...a zombie outbreak. Dude, I've written about it before - c'mon. Combine that with super-spy skills a la Jason Bourne (in Bourne Identity), a diamond heist, and a zombie outbreak...Ghandi! Give me a pizza and I'm fucking set.
But then I thought about it some more...no sex...no sex whatsoever...did that include oral sex? Because, I don't know if anything is better than oral sex. Think about it. No matter how cool, exciting, educational, beneficial, fulfilling, heartwarming - something is - it would be ten times better if you got head while doing it. Eating pizza + head = nummy nummy! Driving in the getaway van while shooting zombies and getting head...gez, the possibilities are endless. If there is a God, I believe he/she gave us mouths mainly for oral pleasure. Eating? Only seconday. Speaking? Tertiary. Oral sex? El numero uno my friends. Head is like a universal box of sprinkles on this ice cream of a life. Patrick Henry was censored, he didn't really want to die for liberty, I'll tell you what he really said, but ya know, honesty doesn't sell history books. "Give me liberty, or give me head." Damnit that should be on a t-shirt!
On one final note, I urge all of you to check out the Pulp Fiction Soundtrack...and the movie as well if you already haven't. I've managed to "find" myself a copy - and I am groovin' out. It's basically a collection of songs that make you want to be cool, kill people, and somehow make sense of life in the midst of all the blood, violence and sex.
To my fellow late night junkies, internet mavens, and social deviants - go fuck yourselves and the jeans you sit in.
softball, picnics, and ducks.
Pennsylvania thunderstorms are wonderful, more so if you're under some kind of roof or another - and if you're not a dog. My dog grows terribly fearful when it rains. I don't understand it really...I guess I could see the fear when she was a puppy, but after several years I'd think she'd be over it. Hell, who knows...I don't mind the company at night either, as my cats no longer tend to sleep in my room, it is nice to have Misty sleeping at the foot of my bed.
I've had a rather enjoyable break this past week - minus one little glitch, which I'll get into a few paragraphs down. Even though I've been coughing my way around the Lehigh Valley for about a week now, I'm glad to say the worst of my flu is gone. I even got an "A" in Trigonometry, after what I thought was a horrendous final exam. But I guess I did alright. 4.0 still in tact!
A close friend Mikey Blair came home for a few days. He's stationed down in North Carolina and I rarely get to see him. But whenever I do, it's always good. Lots of beers, burgers, and more beers. Thankfully he had a tent setup outside so wetness was kept to a minimum. Actually that was the second picnic I attended this week. The first one was after a slow-pitch softball game at Ben's house, who by the way had some excellent food - thanks to the cooking skills of Jackie.
And speaking of slow-pitch softball - my buddy Graham was donning the greatest outfit known to the slow-pitch softball league. Yes, that's him, pictured to the right, showing off the "sweater" underneath the jean jacket vest - complete with cut off jean shorts, or "jorts" for you in-crowd individuals. The original outfit included a t-shirt with faux buff body screen print - which, if you could imagine only added to my amusement upon it's removal. Oh, the irony. I guess you had to be there.
The game itself was a lot of fun. It was a beautiful day, and I got to catch up with one of Graham's sisters, whom I haven't seen in several years. Maura's (Graham's sister) husband, Brad Fry has been in several bands since I first met them several years ago. They've gotten signed by Sub Pop Records, whom you might know through such bands as The Postal Service, The Shins, Sleater-Kinney, Soundgarden, The Reverend Horton Heat...and the list goes on. The band's official website can be found at www.whitedenim.com/pissedjeans. So I found that a bit exciting, and I hope they become huge and I can say, hey - I kind of know them. haha.
Before, I get into a small, yet annoying incident that occurred on Weds, take a look at this comic strip. It's about photography and ducks. The original site is WTD.
Now back to our regularly scheduled blog. Well just the other day my mother knocks on my door and asks, can we have a talk next week, I'm off on Weds. I say sure, thinking, fuck here we go again. So Tuesday rolls around and my mom texts me about our talk and I said I thought it was Weds...blah blah blah, let's just say this "talk" didn't start out the best way possible. So after a pre-emptive verbal whipping on a slightly hung-over Wednesday morning, my mother and I sit down to talk. At first it was the generic what are you doing about transfers, etc. That was fine and dandy. And what came next was just a little nerve-racking, confusing, and plain old unnecessary.
You know what - I don't even want to get into it. I simply want to say. Fuck it.
I've had a rather enjoyable break this past week - minus one little glitch, which I'll get into a few paragraphs down. Even though I've been coughing my way around the Lehigh Valley for about a week now, I'm glad to say the worst of my flu is gone. I even got an "A" in Trigonometry, after what I thought was a horrendous final exam. But I guess I did alright. 4.0 still in tact!
A close friend Mikey Blair came home for a few days. He's stationed down in North Carolina and I rarely get to see him. But whenever I do, it's always good. Lots of beers, burgers, and more beers. Thankfully he had a tent setup outside so wetness was kept to a minimum. Actually that was the second picnic I attended this week. The first one was after a slow-pitch softball game at Ben's house, who by the way had some excellent food - thanks to the cooking skills of Jackie.
And speaking of slow-pitch softball - my buddy Graham was donning the greatest outfit known to the slow-pitch softball league. Yes, that's him, pictured to the right, showing off the "sweater" underneath the jean jacket vest - complete with cut off jean shorts, or "jorts" for you in-crowd individuals. The original outfit included a t-shirt with faux buff body screen print - which, if you could imagine only added to my amusement upon it's removal. Oh, the irony. I guess you had to be there.The game itself was a lot of fun. It was a beautiful day, and I got to catch up with one of Graham's sisters, whom I haven't seen in several years. Maura's (Graham's sister) husband, Brad Fry has been in several bands since I first met them several years ago. They've gotten signed by Sub Pop Records, whom you might know through such bands as The Postal Service, The Shins, Sleater-Kinney, Soundgarden, The Reverend Horton Heat...and the list goes on. The band's official website can be found at www.whitedenim.com/pissedjeans. So I found that a bit exciting, and I hope they become huge and I can say, hey - I kind of know them. haha.Before, I get into a small, yet annoying incident that occurred on Weds, take a look at this comic strip. It's about photography and ducks. The original site is WTD.
Now back to our regularly scheduled blog. Well just the other day my mother knocks on my door and asks, can we have a talk next week, I'm off on Weds. I say sure, thinking, fuck here we go again. So Tuesday rolls around and my mom texts me about our talk and I said I thought it was Weds...blah blah blah, let's just say this "talk" didn't start out the best way possible. So after a pre-emptive verbal whipping on a slightly hung-over Wednesday morning, my mother and I sit down to talk. At first it was the generic what are you doing about transfers, etc. That was fine and dandy. And what came next was just a little nerve-racking, confusing, and plain old unnecessary.
You know what - I don't even want to get into it. I simply want to say. Fuck it.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Sharon - you sexy bitch.
I finally got my new spectacles! And I love 'em. They are so light and incredibly comfortable. This is my first time having glasses with the anti-glare reflective coating and it takes a bit getting used to. It's almost as if my vision is too clear. I'm just not used to it. Compared to my old pair, which I will still keep, the super thin metal frame is practically weightless. The only drawback I've found is that these frames tend to bend and will probably not handle being sat on as graciously as my old frames. But I guess those are the tradeoffs between comfort and durability.I can't stress enough how happy I am with the service from Fox Optical. Everyone says they are more expensive and they might be, but they hand fit your glasses and really take the time out to make sure you are satisfied with your glasses. Not to mention their selection of frames are the raddest. I figure if I'm going to be wearing something pretty much every day for several years, I might as well get something I like.
Here's one more shot of my glasses in their its all white case, complete with a nice micro fiber cloth. I'm considering maybe getting my lenses replaced in my old frames. I've avoided metal frames for years because I knew how I end up treating my glasses. I'm an abusive boy...oh well. And if you are wondering why the title of this blog is "Sharon", it's because that's the name of my glasses. It actually says Sharon on one of the sides. *shrugs shoulders. Also, if anyone is interested, the company who makes them is called Mykita. I believe their website is www.mykita.com.
Alrighty, I'm out. Keep a lookout for a fantastic new blog I'm working on...Presti gets belligerent and tells me to do heroin - awesome. Trust me, you will laugh. Oh...and Mikey Blair's coming home, I can't drink - but that don't mean I can't party! YEEHAW!
Friday, June 29, 2007
Drowsy Melodies
Well I've officially completed my first summer session. Trigonometry of all things, wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. I didn't do as well as I had hoped - meaning I didn't ace the damn thing. But I blame my sudden illness which left me bedridden for two days before as the main culprit. It wasn't so much as I needed to study a lot, but if I could have at least devoted one hour to the damn thing, I would have easily aced it. Usually I wouldn't mind it so much if I didn't nail the final, but the rest of the "semester's" grade didn't really amount to much, so my final exam is basically my final grade. But whatever, I'm over it; it's done with, what more can I do?
My sickness, I'm happy to announce, has waned significantly since its inception on Tuesday evening. What started out as a mild cough, which I assumed warranted the chain smoking of several cigarettes - seriously though, when I don't smoke for a while, I start coughing a lot. And when that didn't work, I noticed a certain wheeze in my breaths and an even more noticeable amount of discomfort toward the heat. I was cold oddly enough, yet incredibly sweaty. So before the body-aches kicked in, I stocked up on a variety of Progresso's chicken soup, generic NyQuil, Multi-Vitamins, Zinc, and several bottles of water.
While sickness has it's drawbacks, of which I won't go into detail, as I assume you've all been sick. I find a few pleasures in feeling a bit under the weather. For one thing, I love soup, and I feel that I don't really have enough of it in my life. But good soup just makes me feel so nummy nummy inside. Another silver-lining in my flu infested cloud, is NyQuil - by golly gee whiz, I fucking love NyQuil. The only thing better than NyQuil is the hypothetical "Extra Strength" NyQuil. Holy crap, that shit would probably knock a thorough-bred stallion hopped on methamphetamines clean the fuck out - and yes, I'd gladly take the recommended two tablespoons every six hours. They should serve NyQuil cocktails at bars - as if driving home wasn't difficult enough. "Sorry officer, that Vodka-NyQuil-Tonic just hits me so hard."
On a more, "so Milo, what have you been looking at online lately" kind of topic - I've been drawn to more photo-centric websites lately. Years ago, I was primarily obsessed with gear oriented discussions, primarily the comparisons various websites and forum dwellers proposed between the DSLR's of Nikon, Canon, and Pentax. But ever since I've acquired my own fully paid for Nikon D200 (smiles warmly), I haven't really cared - since I'm more than happy with mine. Although a small part of me still wonders about the Pentax system. Pentax has always provided a well-priced, high-quality, albeit niche alternative, to the Nikon/Canon conglomerate. See, now that I've began talking about photography I've digressed...back to photo-centric websites.
I've been frequenting flickr.com. (that is a link to my personal flickr gallery) Flickr's a neat site, they've somehow managed to turn a simple necessity such as posting images online to share with friends, into a lively and energetic community of photographers - of all skill levels, ages, and equipment. And there are "Groups" majority of which are public that allow you to share photos that relate to the group's theme, or participate in discussions about the various facets of photography. For example, The Nikon D200 group, which I'm sure you've deduced covers just about anything dealing with the Nikon D200. Then there's the Amici Peluche, which I believe has something to do with stuffed animals?? I'm not really sure, but someone invited me after they saw a photo I took, and I figured why the hell not.
But I bet you're thinking, I don't even know these people. Why would I want to look at their photos? I guess you bring up a valid point. But there are some funny shots I've seen, not to mention refreshing looks at various cities, towns, people etc. from all around the world. I've also found people who write some real decent blogs. All in all, if you dig photography on even the lowest of levels, flickr's got an avenue for you. Whether it be high fashion, or street photography; flowers, or french fries, there's a flickr group with at least one other person who shares the same interest. So anyways, that's how I've been essentially waning myself off of the myspace/facebook addiction - by exchanging them for an equally click-a-licious serving of flickr's random Interestingness.
Oh, and to give you a tease about an upcoming blog, I'm going to write about a fun weekend I recently had. And of course it included alcohol, but for once, alcohol wasn't the main focal point. Which, in the Lehigh Valley, is saying a lot. I don't really like going somewhere new, when "somewhere new" is basically nothing more than a dressed up, more expensive version of "somewhere familiar", where the drinks are not only more expensive, but also significantly watered down. Give me something different, I mean really different, not the same shit in a nicer glass, the same people in nicer clothes, and the same scene in different lighting...join me, in giving every overpriced, fufu, faux urban cool, wannabe restaurant, bar, whatever - in the Lehigh Valley a big warm, FUCK YOU! That's to you, "Blue", "Melt", "Brew Works", "Starters", "Fill in whatever overpriced joint here", etc. You all equally suck. Don't dellude yourselves into thinking you don't, because you do.
Well I'll save the rest for later. It's early/late, depending on how you want to view it. Take care my people, and hope that I'll wake from my NyQuil reverie.
My sickness, I'm happy to announce, has waned significantly since its inception on Tuesday evening. What started out as a mild cough, which I assumed warranted the chain smoking of several cigarettes - seriously though, when I don't smoke for a while, I start coughing a lot. And when that didn't work, I noticed a certain wheeze in my breaths and an even more noticeable amount of discomfort toward the heat. I was cold oddly enough, yet incredibly sweaty. So before the body-aches kicked in, I stocked up on a variety of Progresso's chicken soup, generic NyQuil, Multi-Vitamins, Zinc, and several bottles of water.
While sickness has it's drawbacks, of which I won't go into detail, as I assume you've all been sick. I find a few pleasures in feeling a bit under the weather. For one thing, I love soup, and I feel that I don't really have enough of it in my life. But good soup just makes me feel so nummy nummy inside. Another silver-lining in my flu infested cloud, is NyQuil - by golly gee whiz, I fucking love NyQuil. The only thing better than NyQuil is the hypothetical "Extra Strength" NyQuil. Holy crap, that shit would probably knock a thorough-bred stallion hopped on methamphetamines clean the fuck out - and yes, I'd gladly take the recommended two tablespoons every six hours. They should serve NyQuil cocktails at bars - as if driving home wasn't difficult enough. "Sorry officer, that Vodka-NyQuil-Tonic just hits me so hard."
On a more, "so Milo, what have you been looking at online lately" kind of topic - I've been drawn to more photo-centric websites lately. Years ago, I was primarily obsessed with gear oriented discussions, primarily the comparisons various websites and forum dwellers proposed between the DSLR's of Nikon, Canon, and Pentax. But ever since I've acquired my own fully paid for Nikon D200 (smiles warmly), I haven't really cared - since I'm more than happy with mine. Although a small part of me still wonders about the Pentax system. Pentax has always provided a well-priced, high-quality, albeit niche alternative, to the Nikon/Canon conglomerate. See, now that I've began talking about photography I've digressed...back to photo-centric websites.
I've been frequenting flickr.com. (that is a link to my personal flickr gallery) Flickr's a neat site, they've somehow managed to turn a simple necessity such as posting images online to share with friends, into a lively and energetic community of photographers - of all skill levels, ages, and equipment. And there are "Groups" majority of which are public that allow you to share photos that relate to the group's theme, or participate in discussions about the various facets of photography. For example, The Nikon D200 group, which I'm sure you've deduced covers just about anything dealing with the Nikon D200. Then there's the Amici Peluche, which I believe has something to do with stuffed animals?? I'm not really sure, but someone invited me after they saw a photo I took, and I figured why the hell not.
But I bet you're thinking, I don't even know these people. Why would I want to look at their photos? I guess you bring up a valid point. But there are some funny shots I've seen, not to mention refreshing looks at various cities, towns, people etc. from all around the world. I've also found people who write some real decent blogs. All in all, if you dig photography on even the lowest of levels, flickr's got an avenue for you. Whether it be high fashion, or street photography; flowers, or french fries, there's a flickr group with at least one other person who shares the same interest. So anyways, that's how I've been essentially waning myself off of the myspace/facebook addiction - by exchanging them for an equally click-a-licious serving of flickr's random Interestingness.
Oh, and to give you a tease about an upcoming blog, I'm going to write about a fun weekend I recently had. And of course it included alcohol, but for once, alcohol wasn't the main focal point. Which, in the Lehigh Valley, is saying a lot. I don't really like going somewhere new, when "somewhere new" is basically nothing more than a dressed up, more expensive version of "somewhere familiar", where the drinks are not only more expensive, but also significantly watered down. Give me something different, I mean really different, not the same shit in a nicer glass, the same people in nicer clothes, and the same scene in different lighting...join me, in giving every overpriced, fufu, faux urban cool, wannabe restaurant, bar, whatever - in the Lehigh Valley a big warm, FUCK YOU! That's to you, "Blue", "Melt", "Brew Works", "Starters", "Fill in whatever overpriced joint here", etc. You all equally suck. Don't dellude yourselves into thinking you don't, because you do.
Well I'll save the rest for later. It's early/late, depending on how you want to view it. Take care my people, and hope that I'll wake from my NyQuil reverie.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Oops...I made a funny.
What? Another one?! So soon?! Well I'm just so full of moxy lately, I've decided to blog again. Honestly, I just don't feel like looking over my Trig at the moment.
There is something about today that feels like a bouncy Sinatra song, just begging to be danced to. Like most, I started my day off with urination, a classic, yet timeless beginning to any good day. I bet you're thinking I'm crazy, but just imagine a day you don't start with pee...weird huh? Well I take that back. There was this one time, when I started my day off as a pleasantly surprised recipient of a blow job. That too was a good day. Anyways, after the pee, I had myself some leftovers from last night. It was a giant piece of broiled red meat, glorious. Pee and red meat - other than a bj - I don't think there's any better way to start a day.
I know, I'm a chauvinistic pig...whatever, I'm not gonna lie and deny my love for oral sex...and red meat. Both are fucking delicious, well I guess it depends on the cow and the cu(n)t - maybe even the butcher, or more so the farmer. Wait, I don't even know what I'm writing about anymore? Blow jobs, beef, butchers...my how I've digressed. But then again, I guess you need to have a point in order to digress from it. A tricky little thing this blogging can be.
Speaking of points, I've been toying with the idea of writing a more subject centric blog. Because I know it's tough to market my current offerings of typed blabbing. "Hey you should check out my friend Miguel's blog." "Oh really? What's it about?" "Well in his current one he talks about peeing, bj's and beef." "Oh, awesome. I'll take a look at it." So you can see the need for some kind of delineation...two ideas have included:
1. Quirky movie recommendations, with a side why and why not(s), and maybe a tasty nougat of insight for dessert...
2. A fun local Lehigh Valley current events type of blog...mainly because I haven't lost all hope that there is something fun to do in the LV. That said, I'm kind of sick of just drinking myself to oblivion because of boredom.
So if any of you out there in La La land have any ideas, please do let me know. I find myself stretching for something to write about, but other than succumbing to the internet radio monster that is last.fm, nothing's really new in Milo's dull, trigonometric centric life. I have to say that last.fm is pretty rad, but my first couple of attempts really made me want to stab other people's pets. Why? Because I didn't want to stab my pets, but I really wanted to hurt something cute and fluffy. I think my desire to kill had more to do with my lack of cigarette smoking more so than Last.fm's inability to play properly. It's kind of fun. Last.fm, not stabbing pets, well that's fun too, but internet radio is exceedingly less messy. For instance, I was introduced to a song by The Cramps, titled "Anal Wonderland". Yes, I know. Anything that enables me to listen to something that combines punk rock, amusement parks, and anal sex - is, for lack of any better terms, fucking awesome. Last.fm, you make broadband internet that much more useful - as if all the porn in the world at your fingertips wasn't enough. On a scale from 1 to funky, Last.fm is funkalicious.
Speaking of funky shit. The hypothetical kind, not the semi-solid, tubular and smelly kind. While my life is continuing on with no real reason for an erection - not that I don't still randomly get hard-ons for no apparent reason - Presti's movin' out! I helped him move a couple of things into his swanky new loft and met his loft-mate, and I must say it's pretty cool. The place is nice and I look forward to finally having somewhere to bring AIDs infected whores for rough sex late at night. I'm kidding Presti, incase you were worried. But no really, can I? Maybe? No? Ok, we'll talk.
While I'm on the topic of VD, how many of you have heard of one of the funniest magazines I've ever had the pleasure of reading, VICE? Back in SF you could find this free, that's right I said it, free magazine scattered throughout local shops, cafes, video rental stores, hell I even found some at a hardware store. What's the magazine about...well remember how I created a fictional "what if" earlier with a bigger "if" you actually tried recommending my blog to anyone? Well...it's kind of like that. The most memorable issue was one that was all about Russia. They covered such a diverse topic, from music, fashion, art, prisons, the mandatory military time - in short, it was the most visually intense magazine I've ever picked up. But most notably, and arguably their most popular feature is their "DOs & DON'Ts" segment. The premise is quite simple. They take pairs of snapshots, and I do mean snapshots - these photographs look like they were taken with an already disposed disposable camera. Now these snapshots are generally somewhat related and they are titled with a simple "DO" or "DON'T", and beneath the photograph is a description filled with an overload of sarcastic sass to make even the most jaded of people crack a smile. If you have the opportunity, grab one of these. I assure you it will make for some interesting conversations, and at the very least provide you with endless pictures of stupid indie hipster dudes with their equally stupid skinny jeans mixed with a sampling of overweight hipster chicks. I love it. It's hilarious. Vice is probably the only redeeming quality hipsters have - the simple fact that they contributed to a magazine as funny, entertaining, and even somewhat informative as VICE.
Well, that's it for me. I'm going back to another cup of green tea, some shitty movie and pretending I am somewhere I want to be.
There is something about today that feels like a bouncy Sinatra song, just begging to be danced to. Like most, I started my day off with urination, a classic, yet timeless beginning to any good day. I bet you're thinking I'm crazy, but just imagine a day you don't start with pee...weird huh? Well I take that back. There was this one time, when I started my day off as a pleasantly surprised recipient of a blow job. That too was a good day. Anyways, after the pee, I had myself some leftovers from last night. It was a giant piece of broiled red meat, glorious. Pee and red meat - other than a bj - I don't think there's any better way to start a day.
I know, I'm a chauvinistic pig...whatever, I'm not gonna lie and deny my love for oral sex...and red meat. Both are fucking delicious, well I guess it depends on the cow and the cu(n)t - maybe even the butcher, or more so the farmer. Wait, I don't even know what I'm writing about anymore? Blow jobs, beef, butchers...my how I've digressed. But then again, I guess you need to have a point in order to digress from it. A tricky little thing this blogging can be.
Speaking of points, I've been toying with the idea of writing a more subject centric blog. Because I know it's tough to market my current offerings of typed blabbing. "Hey you should check out my friend Miguel's blog." "Oh really? What's it about?" "Well in his current one he talks about peeing, bj's and beef." "Oh, awesome. I'll take a look at it." So you can see the need for some kind of delineation...two ideas have included:
1. Quirky movie recommendations, with a side why and why not(s), and maybe a tasty nougat of insight for dessert...
2. A fun local Lehigh Valley current events type of blog...mainly because I haven't lost all hope that there is something fun to do in the LV. That said, I'm kind of sick of just drinking myself to oblivion because of boredom.
So if any of you out there in La La land have any ideas, please do let me know. I find myself stretching for something to write about, but other than succumbing to the internet radio monster that is last.fm, nothing's really new in Milo's dull, trigonometric centric life. I have to say that last.fm is pretty rad, but my first couple of attempts really made me want to stab other people's pets. Why? Because I didn't want to stab my pets, but I really wanted to hurt something cute and fluffy. I think my desire to kill had more to do with my lack of cigarette smoking more so than Last.fm's inability to play properly. It's kind of fun. Last.fm, not stabbing pets, well that's fun too, but internet radio is exceedingly less messy. For instance, I was introduced to a song by The Cramps, titled "Anal Wonderland". Yes, I know. Anything that enables me to listen to something that combines punk rock, amusement parks, and anal sex - is, for lack of any better terms, fucking awesome. Last.fm, you make broadband internet that much more useful - as if all the porn in the world at your fingertips wasn't enough. On a scale from 1 to funky, Last.fm is funkalicious.
Speaking of funky shit. The hypothetical kind, not the semi-solid, tubular and smelly kind. While my life is continuing on with no real reason for an erection - not that I don't still randomly get hard-ons for no apparent reason - Presti's movin' out! I helped him move a couple of things into his swanky new loft and met his loft-mate, and I must say it's pretty cool. The place is nice and I look forward to finally having somewhere to bring AIDs infected whores for rough sex late at night. I'm kidding Presti, incase you were worried. But no really, can I? Maybe? No? Ok, we'll talk.
While I'm on the topic of VD, how many of you have heard of one of the funniest magazines I've ever had the pleasure of reading, VICE? Back in SF you could find this free, that's right I said it, free magazine scattered throughout local shops, cafes, video rental stores, hell I even found some at a hardware store. What's the magazine about...well remember how I created a fictional "what if" earlier with a bigger "if" you actually tried recommending my blog to anyone? Well...it's kind of like that. The most memorable issue was one that was all about Russia. They covered such a diverse topic, from music, fashion, art, prisons, the mandatory military time - in short, it was the most visually intense magazine I've ever picked up. But most notably, and arguably their most popular feature is their "DOs & DON'Ts" segment. The premise is quite simple. They take pairs of snapshots, and I do mean snapshots - these photographs look like they were taken with an already disposed disposable camera. Now these snapshots are generally somewhat related and they are titled with a simple "DO" or "DON'T", and beneath the photograph is a description filled with an overload of sarcastic sass to make even the most jaded of people crack a smile. If you have the opportunity, grab one of these. I assure you it will make for some interesting conversations, and at the very least provide you with endless pictures of stupid indie hipster dudes with their equally stupid skinny jeans mixed with a sampling of overweight hipster chicks. I love it. It's hilarious. Vice is probably the only redeeming quality hipsters have - the simple fact that they contributed to a magazine as funny, entertaining, and even somewhat informative as VICE.
Well, that's it for me. I'm going back to another cup of green tea, some shitty movie and pretending I am somewhere I want to be.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Material Possessions
Moving home has afforded me some much welcome luxuries. One of which is mommy's generosity when it comes to new clothing. I am the proud owner of some swanky new t-shirts (along with a new pair of Dickies, a hat and a pair of kicks). Now I'm sure many of you don't really see that as something to be too excited about. But it has been years since I've bought a t-shirt that wasn't completely utilitarian (I generally only bought the most basic of necessities, packs of plain white undershirts for example). I am a huge fan of Ambiguous and their brand of tees. Note that the maroon shirt is made by Volcom.
And aside from my new-fangled sexalicious t-shirts - which by the way have become my latest obsession - my wonderful parents have given me the ok to get my eyes checked out. And along with it, a brand spankin' new pair of spectacles. So I took my skippy ass to Fox Optical, in the South side of Bethlehem. Fox Optical was one of the first to offer some of the Lehigh Valley's funkiest frames, albeit expensive, the people and service are exceptional. They've also been rather kind to a brokedown mother fucker like me - with discounts and payment plans that few others would even bother with. Keep a look out, and I'll post a pic of my new frames within the next week.
I've also been on the lookout for a new camera bag. My current photo "satchel" (lovingly referred to as a man purse by many of you) is just a bit too small for Niki. While I'm considering a more traditional and minimalist style from the likes of Domke, the same manufacturer of my current camera bag, I've been intrigued by Chrome's messenger style offerings. Chrome is a San Francisco based company known famously for their seat belt buckle style strap and Clint Eastwood-ian ruggedness. Of course, the messenger bags from Chrome are not traditionally used for photographic equipment, I've found inserts from another company called Crumpler, that would act as a padded "bucket" for Niki and various accessories.
I vaguely remember a friend of mine who had one back in SF. In fact, I remember pulling a dickhead move and pressing the buckle causing the bag to fall off of him. For that, I'm sorry John - nice bag by the way. As far as multi-purpose bags go, I think this easily takes the cake. But seeing as my time spent in suburbia seldom requires such a bag (I drive everywhere anyways), I can't really justify it quite yet. But...when I'm in Philly (fingers-crossed), I'm sure it will come in quite handy. I am leaning towards a more photo-centric bag though, as my main concern is protecting Niki while in transport. But either way, the bag(s) are pretty far down on my list. A plane ticket and a lighting rig are several steps above them.
I know the blog isn't as reflective, in fact it's not really reflective of anything at all. But I've been trying to post more regularly and frankly, if I were to self-reflect that often, I'd probably go insane. Thanks for reading out there wherever you are.
And aside from my new-fangled sexalicious t-shirts - which by the way have become my latest obsession - my wonderful parents have given me the ok to get my eyes checked out. And along with it, a brand spankin' new pair of spectacles. So I took my skippy ass to Fox Optical, in the South side of Bethlehem. Fox Optical was one of the first to offer some of the Lehigh Valley's funkiest frames, albeit expensive, the people and service are exceptional. They've also been rather kind to a brokedown mother fucker like me - with discounts and payment plans that few others would even bother with. Keep a look out, and I'll post a pic of my new frames within the next week.
I've also been on the lookout for a new camera bag. My current photo "satchel" (lovingly referred to as a man purse by many of you) is just a bit too small for Niki. While I'm considering a more traditional and minimalist style from the likes of Domke, the same manufacturer of my current camera bag, I've been intrigued by Chrome's messenger style offerings. Chrome is a San Francisco based company known famously for their seat belt buckle style strap and Clint Eastwood-ian ruggedness. Of course, the messenger bags from Chrome are not traditionally used for photographic equipment, I've found inserts from another company called Crumpler, that would act as a padded "bucket" for Niki and various accessories. I vaguely remember a friend of mine who had one back in SF. In fact, I remember pulling a dickhead move and pressing the buckle causing the bag to fall off of him. For that, I'm sorry John - nice bag by the way. As far as multi-purpose bags go, I think this easily takes the cake. But seeing as my time spent in suburbia seldom requires such a bag (I drive everywhere anyways), I can't really justify it quite yet. But...when I'm in Philly (fingers-crossed), I'm sure it will come in quite handy. I am leaning towards a more photo-centric bag though, as my main concern is protecting Niki while in transport. But either way, the bag(s) are pretty far down on my list. A plane ticket and a lighting rig are several steps above them.I know the blog isn't as reflective, in fact it's not really reflective of anything at all. But I've been trying to post more regularly and frankly, if I were to self-reflect that often, I'd probably go insane. Thanks for reading out there wherever you are.
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Monday, April 16, 2007
Those Damn Whites!
*note: This is another tech blog...so skip it if you're not into it.
Intro
I haven't been able to take Niki out on a proper date...sadly the weather and my schedule haven't been optimal for the past couple of days. Saturday is looking good though, sunny and in the 60's. Hopefully by then Niki, Tammy and I will have some fun photos for all of you.
While Niki, Tammy and I haven't gone through the proper motions, we have been getting to know each other's more intimate intricacies in other ways. RAW-R! Ow! Ow!
I'm getting more pleasing results straight out of Niki lately. While it is fun to play around in CaptureNX, I much rather enjoy the actual act of taking the photo and looking at them so much more. Plus, there is a feeling of accomplishment when you manage to nail it all right in-camera. Last week I spent many late nights fussing with contrast and saturation levels - not to mention the time I spent tweaking them in CaptureNX. Then I had what alcoholics call, "a moment of clarity."
And this is where you, the reader, finally can come to understand the reasoning behind this blog's title. Through majority of my photo taking endeavors I had set the White-Balance to "Auto". Hmm...maybe this is why I'm not getting consistent results. "Auto" works lovely for bright, well-lit, uniform, or outdoor situations. But inside with these evil yellow-casting house lights, "Auto" is simply painful to look at.
What is white-balance? White-balance is essentially a black, white, and gray color point that your camera uses in order to provide neutral (read: correct) colors. Now there are times when you don't want neutral colors, and maybe want a little bit of warmth (read: yellow/orange cast) or cool (read: blue cast) over the colors of your image. And sometimes you may even want a crazy color cast like green...this all depends. But nine times out of ten, you generally want the camera to capture the "correct" color from the scene. A lot of this is very subjective. I personally like the nuetral colors, I even desaturate them in-camera as well as during post-processing to get the kind of color I want. Sometimes I play with a yellow cast to emulate the a 70's style photo, it all really depends, but your ability to get consistent white-balance is absolutely key to the ending image.
As I brought up the possibility of correcting the white-balance issue during post-processing, why would I want to fuss over it while taking the photo. The simple answer is, because I want to. Hah. There is a certain panache when you can get things right the first time, and that's with anything. Not only that, it saves me one less step during post-processing, if I even need to do any.
Besides the qualitative factor white-balance provides, it can also affect how your camera meters, sets tone compensation, and saturation - hence the importance of getting that nuetral white-balance from the start. If you eff that up, there's a chance you eff everything else up too. And frankly, post-processing can grow tedious.
Setting White-Balance
Every DSLR, and most other digicams have variable white-balance settings to help combat various light-sources. Niki's got a dedicated button for adjustment right on the top left side. She gives me what I want, when I want. What a girl huh? I'm not much of a fan with the other pre-set options either, but they do offer consistency over the "Auto" setting. What I do is use Niki's custome white-balance setting and take a photo of a white or gray area in the area where I'm taking the photo. The camera reads this image and adjusts the white-balance accordingly in order to compensate. This isn't necessarily the best way to go about it, since it's never a pure white and/or gray, but it sure can beat the hell out of "Auto" most of the time.
Cool Gadget to Help
There are a lot of options to help with this predicament...mostly in the realm of overpriced boards colored in an 18% gray, white, and even black. Some include other test charts for sharpness, focusing...blah blah blah, stuff that is really to technical, even for me. I did however run into this nifty little device called the ExpoDisc. It's really easy and quite simple in design - but more importantly it is consistent. It looks like a super thick lens filter, you snap it in front of the lens and then take a white-balance reading while pointing it at the source of light your scene/object/etc. is being hit by. And not only does it give you a perfect and neutral white-balance, it also serves as an incident meter. This will give you the proper meter reading so you can set your exposure in Manual mode and leave it there - guaranteeing your image will be lighted the same way in every shot as long as it's under the same light source. Why is this helpful? Well for one, a good incident meter runs close to $400!
Is it necessary? Of course not, it just makes the task a lot easier to do. Not to mention it's definitely a chill accessory to own. It's a bit down on my "Want List" but it is one of the more affordable things on that list.
Niki and Her Quirks
I was freaking out about the horror stories involved when upgrading her firmware. Some people claimed it caused focusing issues, the dreaded "Dead Battery Syndrome" aka DBS...well I started freaking out when I was taking some Myspace-esque photos for fun. I noticed that I constantly came out underexposed. Not the little amount I had first encountered with Niki, but the image was incredibly dark. And I thought to myself, if anything, my brown ass would be overexposed. So I wondered what else could be causing it.
Other factors include...bright window behind camera. Could it be the bright light source? But why behind the camera? So I tested the bright light theory by pointing the back of the camera to the light in my room and then taking my photo. And guess what, it underexposed again. I'm sweating bullets now, I thought I messed up Niki. Then I remember an odd accessory in the box. A little cover for the eyepiece. I thoughtm, wtf? I looked it up in the manual and it's used for longer exposures to block out any light that might enter through the eyepiece. EUREKA! It finally made sense to me.
Anyways, I think I'm going to start writing these things regularly. Lemme know if there's anything in particular you want to know more about, and if I can get my hands on it, I'll give you my two-cents.
Intro
I haven't been able to take Niki out on a proper date...sadly the weather and my schedule haven't been optimal for the past couple of days. Saturday is looking good though, sunny and in the 60's. Hopefully by then Niki, Tammy and I will have some fun photos for all of you.
While Niki, Tammy and I haven't gone through the proper motions, we have been getting to know each other's more intimate intricacies in other ways. RAW-R! Ow! Ow!
I'm getting more pleasing results straight out of Niki lately. While it is fun to play around in CaptureNX, I much rather enjoy the actual act of taking the photo and looking at them so much more. Plus, there is a feeling of accomplishment when you manage to nail it all right in-camera. Last week I spent many late nights fussing with contrast and saturation levels - not to mention the time I spent tweaking them in CaptureNX. Then I had what alcoholics call, "a moment of clarity."
And this is where you, the reader, finally can come to understand the reasoning behind this blog's title. Through majority of my photo taking endeavors I had set the White-Balance to "Auto". Hmm...maybe this is why I'm not getting consistent results. "Auto" works lovely for bright, well-lit, uniform, or outdoor situations. But inside with these evil yellow-casting house lights, "Auto" is simply painful to look at.
What is white-balance? White-balance is essentially a black, white, and gray color point that your camera uses in order to provide neutral (read: correct) colors. Now there are times when you don't want neutral colors, and maybe want a little bit of warmth (read: yellow/orange cast) or cool (read: blue cast) over the colors of your image. And sometimes you may even want a crazy color cast like green...this all depends. But nine times out of ten, you generally want the camera to capture the "correct" color from the scene. A lot of this is very subjective. I personally like the nuetral colors, I even desaturate them in-camera as well as during post-processing to get the kind of color I want. Sometimes I play with a yellow cast to emulate the a 70's style photo, it all really depends, but your ability to get consistent white-balance is absolutely key to the ending image.
As I brought up the possibility of correcting the white-balance issue during post-processing, why would I want to fuss over it while taking the photo. The simple answer is, because I want to. Hah. There is a certain panache when you can get things right the first time, and that's with anything. Not only that, it saves me one less step during post-processing, if I even need to do any.
Besides the qualitative factor white-balance provides, it can also affect how your camera meters, sets tone compensation, and saturation - hence the importance of getting that nuetral white-balance from the start. If you eff that up, there's a chance you eff everything else up too. And frankly, post-processing can grow tedious.
Setting White-Balance
Every DSLR, and most other digicams have variable white-balance settings to help combat various light-sources. Niki's got a dedicated button for adjustment right on the top left side. She gives me what I want, when I want. What a girl huh? I'm not much of a fan with the other pre-set options either, but they do offer consistency over the "Auto" setting. What I do is use Niki's custome white-balance setting and take a photo of a white or gray area in the area where I'm taking the photo. The camera reads this image and adjusts the white-balance accordingly in order to compensate. This isn't necessarily the best way to go about it, since it's never a pure white and/or gray, but it sure can beat the hell out of "Auto" most of the time.
Cool Gadget to Help
There are a lot of options to help with this predicament...mostly in the realm of overpriced boards colored in an 18% gray, white, and even black. Some include other test charts for sharpness, focusing...blah blah blah, stuff that is really to technical, even for me. I did however run into this nifty little device called the ExpoDisc. It's really easy and quite simple in design - but more importantly it is consistent. It looks like a super thick lens filter, you snap it in front of the lens and then take a white-balance reading while pointing it at the source of light your scene/object/etc. is being hit by. And not only does it give you a perfect and neutral white-balance, it also serves as an incident meter. This will give you the proper meter reading so you can set your exposure in Manual mode and leave it there - guaranteeing your image will be lighted the same way in every shot as long as it's under the same light source. Why is this helpful? Well for one, a good incident meter runs close to $400!
Is it necessary? Of course not, it just makes the task a lot easier to do. Not to mention it's definitely a chill accessory to own. It's a bit down on my "Want List" but it is one of the more affordable things on that list.
Niki and Her Quirks
I was freaking out about the horror stories involved when upgrading her firmware. Some people claimed it caused focusing issues, the dreaded "Dead Battery Syndrome" aka DBS...well I started freaking out when I was taking some Myspace-esque photos for fun. I noticed that I constantly came out underexposed. Not the little amount I had first encountered with Niki, but the image was incredibly dark. And I thought to myself, if anything, my brown ass would be overexposed. So I wondered what else could be causing it.
Other factors include...bright window behind camera. Could it be the bright light source? But why behind the camera? So I tested the bright light theory by pointing the back of the camera to the light in my room and then taking my photo. And guess what, it underexposed again. I'm sweating bullets now, I thought I messed up Niki. Then I remember an odd accessory in the box. A little cover for the eyepiece. I thoughtm, wtf? I looked it up in the manual and it's used for longer exposures to block out any light that might enter through the eyepiece. EUREKA! It finally made sense to me.
Anyways, I think I'm going to start writing these things regularly. Lemme know if there's anything in particular you want to know more about, and if I can get my hands on it, I'll give you my two-cents.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
More Digital Mumbo Jumbo: Lens Talk & Post-Processing
*note: scroll down to the bold "Software" title if you want to skip the lens talk
Before I get all moist and unstable about post-processing, I'd like to bring up Tammy, my lens. I just couldn't resist testing for focusing problems. (Front focus/Back focus). Although I wasn't being super technical (no tripod for example), I found that at wide open apertures there is a slight tendancy to focus a little in front of the intended target. (shooting text for instance.) Although minimal, imagine the implications when photog-ing a person's face where the eyes are generally the most important thing to focus on. With a very shallow depth of field, you may find the eyes blurry but their eyebrows tack sharp. But I don't feel it's too much of an issue, if it does turn into one, I'll send it in to Tamron for re-calibration - not likely until I get another lens to keep attached on Niki.
So, that's another thing going for the 17-55mm Nikkor version - damn I wish I had that kind of money ($1300). But as nice as that lens is, Canon offers a lens with the same focal range/maximum aperture and even includes IS, aka VR, aka Image Stabilization, aka Vibration Reduction. And the Canon version is roughly 300 less than the Nikkor. (It's still roughly 400 more than Tammy though.) One knock against the Canon version is that it's not built to the same Tank-like qualities as the Nikkor. Simply put, if you have the money for first-party lenses I'd say it's always the safer bet. But for a lot less money, my Tammy performs almost as well and I'm more than happy with it - shit, we can't all date supermodels.
Well I'm pretty set at the wide settings, anything more would really be a novelty that I truly can't afford. But aside from other accessories (a dedicated flash or two, extra batteries and a vertical grip, I'm spying some potential zoom telephotos. No, I don't want to peak into my neighbors house...hrmm...when photog-ing people a longer focal range generally gives more pleasing proportions. For example, most wedding photographers use a 70-200mm zoom since majority of their photos are of people. Obviously not for group photos, but next time you see a wedding photog with a giant lens, you can almost always bet it's a 70-200mm.
Nikon's telephoto zoom is simply kick-ass. Talk about serious arm and neck fatigue, this bad-boy spends a shitload of time in the gym. It also has VR to help compensate at the longer focal lengths. But of course this guy doesn't come cheap. Weighing in at $1500, this lens costs more than my camera. Another drawback, for those of you who think the $1500 price tag isn't enough, you need approximately 5ft of distance in order to focus. That's good if you want to keep your distance but if something gets close you can forget about it. One last drawback is it's conversion rate - Niki converts all focal lengths by a factor of 1.5 (meaning a 35mm film negative is about 1.5x larger than her sensor). So 70-200 turns into 105-300! This could be a positive if you're into jungle safaris, or taking photos of someone really far away, but at the closest focusing distance of 5ft you're probably won't even be able to fit their face in frame.
Gez, all this bad mouthing, why is it so expensive? Well aside from the near-silent, superfast autofocusing, which can be manually overridden at any time (this is more important than you think it might be), and it's tank exterior, this lens is capable of producing some of the sharpest images your camera can make. Not to mention the out of focus areas (bokeh) looks phenomenal. In short, it's the shit man!
But there has to be an alternative, your thinking. Well there is, sadly it's a third party company with the same third party drawbacks. It is much better built than most third party lenses, and features a similar HSM autofocus system (read: AFS for Nikkors and USM for Canon), but it's main drawback comes down to quality control and lack of VR. Which is a shame really, certain third party lenses compare favorably with their Nikon/Canon counterparts, but the quality control just isn't there. Sigma's 50-150mm covers the more traditional 70-200mm focal length on Niki's smaller sensor. It's lighter and smaller too! Although I like the "bigness" of the Nikkors, long days with these lenses can potentially be a real pain. Even it's focusing distance is significantly shorter, at a little over 3 feet. Yet reviewers once again agree that it all comes down to your luck when getting one - much like Tammy. On a plus note, the Sigma is only about $679, that's less than half of the Nikkor's asking price.
And even with the Sigma's HSM near-silent af system, all-time manual override, lighter, smaller frame, and better price - why the hesitation? Quality control...*sigh. Hell I could look past the lack of VR, but spending nearly $700 and getting faulty lens would be infuriating. Maybe by the time I have enough for this lens, all the quirks will be worked out? Here's to hoping...
SOFTWARE
Well that rant on lenses lasted a lot longer than I expected. First things first...
1. Niki's exposure readings tend to look a bit underexposed. I first began adjusting the readings by +0.3 or +.07, but I soon realized there was a method to Niki's madness. If you shoot a scene and blow out the highlights (bright light sources/white areas in the photo), you can not recover them very well. So it is better to shoot what looks like underexposure and edit to taste later. That's not to say that certain scenes won't need adjustment (snow, beach, bright windows, severely backlit subjects) but for the most part, Niki's Matrix metering is dead on. I've reshot several scenes with varying degrees of compensation and Niki is never off by more than a third of a stop. In short, I am relearning what a proper exposure looks like. In film it's a little bit of the opposite, since darkening a photo later was was somewhat easier.
(*note: photos tend to have a gray cast over them as well, but I've realized this is due to the to my use of "-" parameters in the respective tone and saturation settings. Why use "-" parameters? Well it lends itself much better to post processing - i.e. levels and curves. Try it and you'll see.)
2. When I first got the camera I shot RAW + JPEG. But I've switched to strictly RAW files, since I'm not shooting hundreds of photos, and they provide the highest amount of room when editting. Not to mention, it is forcing me to get better at using Capture NX and Lightroom. But due to my computer's age, I will further experiment with JPEG settings in-camera to produce reasonably good photos straight from Niki. The RAW files are massive and working with a small number of them, less than 20, causes considerable slowdown on my Powerbook. But my beef with the lack of in-depth custom image parameters takes
over and it is simply impossible to get the same quality in camera versus post-processing. I guess it's much like to getting prints from Walgreens back in the day. They weren't bad, but when I fucked around with them in the dark room at school, or got them printed by a dedicated photolab, the images were significantly better. This is one nod I have to give to the Canon DSLRs, at least the 30D, I don't know much about the Rebels, but the 30D has up to +- 9 per setting. Don't tell Niki okay? I don't want her getting a complex. But eventually I'd like to upgrade my computer and purchase a larger memory card. (You'd think 2gb would be enough...)
Okay, let's begin. I figure the easiest way to do this is to break it down by software.
Adobe Lightroom
1. As far as looks go, this is one sexy application. The only other thing sexier is Apple's own Aperture. But my comptuer is simply not man enough for that thing. On a side note, I've been reading less than stellar comments about it's RAW conversion engine...? Anyways, Lightroom is very well organized. Click here to get to Lightroom's web page and check out their video titled "Feature Tour".
2. Organization, importing, and selecting keepers versus rejects are all done very well. With less than 20 photos at a time it can be manageable to do it yourself, but I recall a friend of mine's birthday (Jenna! which is coming up soon!) and I shot over 300 images on my Sony V3. Yea, organizing that shit was futile. It does take some time before Lightroom becomes workable though. It has to create previews of each RAW file, but once it does that it ran much faster than I thought it would on my Powerbook.
3. Post-processing is pretty well done. For those of you who are familiar with Photoshop many of the tools will familiar, albeit more streamlined. I'm sure PS veterans will be able to turn out photos to their liking. Lightroom does a much better job at reducing Chromatic Aberrations (weird color shifts found on the edges of high contrast areas in a photo, ie. branches and the sky). One of Lightroom's pitfalls is the inability to apply sharpening or any effects really to an isolated part of an image. It can however adjust particular color tones, which I found to be very useful when I wanted to up the saturation of certain colors without affecting others. (Kind of like making the image look like it was shot on Velvia or Portra.) But for the most part, Lightroom is definitely geared towards the batch-processing division, prepping photos for more serious PS work if necessary. The photos actually don't look bad at all, I'd be more than happy with them if I didn't see Capture NX's output.
4. Saving/converting files. Saving the RAW file once you're finished editting is real easy. You don't have to click save or anything. Lightroom creates sets of instructions tagged to the RAW file, so when they open up again, Lightroom just reads the instructions and shows you the image as you last editted it. Another plus is, you can always revert back to the original, all the while never losing an image information - RAW's main benefit. Conversion to PSD, JPEG, and TIFF take a couple seconds to 1-2 minutes. They look good. Nothing more I can say about that. But I do have a question printing...which I'll address at the end.
5. Verdict: Great app! If I were better at Photoshop, this would be the perfect lead in to that application. Photoshop is really overkill in terms of converting properly exposed photos. Lightroom takes the tools most photogs would ever use and combines them into an easy and manageable package. Even it's monochrome conversions are downright sexy. But if you want more fine-tuning, layers, and selective editting than you're still going to need Photoshop. The new CS3 version is looking mighty fine though...I might have to try that shiz out.
Nikon Capture NX
1. It's no sleek, sexy beast like lightroom. But it's simple, and minimalistic. Pretty blah in this department. In fact I might go so far as saying it's ugly. Sorry Nikon...but it is effective, and while not much of a looker, all the controls and options are in fairly convenient locations.
2. Organization...certianly isn't one of it's strong points. The built in browser shows teeny thumbnails where no real evaluation of quality could be made. It really is more of an editor, not an organization+editor tool like Lightroom. It also takes a bit longer opening up one file and working with it.
3. Post-processing...finally something Capture NX does better than Lightroom - with one exception. The colors really do pop out at you with this software. Or you can have them toned down, whatever you want. While lightroom's sliders are somewhat a little more complex, Capture NX's get the job done with less fuss and admirably at that. Nikon has been touting "U-Point" technology as the heart and sould of NX, and they should be. Awesome doesn't do it justice. Think about the power of layers in photoshop, only simplified and easier to apply. You can even paint the desired effect on or off a subject. After watching a few of Nikon's how-to videos, I was rockin' and rollin' with NX. Speaking of painting, you can brush on sharpness selectively, something sorely missing in Lightroom. What about that oone exception though? Well the chromatic aberration control doesn't really work. I mean it minimizes shit, but not nearly as good as Lightroom. But it's forgiveable in terms of overall image quality NX wins. But perhaps exporting as a TIFF and editting further in Photoshop wouldn't be a bad idea if chromatic aberration is bothering you. As far as monochromatic conversions, NX and Lightroom play a little role reversal. I think Lightroom's slight edge on complexity with their sliders edges out here.
4. Saving/converting files. NX differs from Lightroom in this respect. Saving RAW files takes some time (same as the JPEG export times, not a real biggy). I don't really get why, but it does. JPEG conversions were phenomenal, no qualms about that. But it didn't have many options compared to Lightroom. Lightroom allows you to set the dpi of the JPEG, which can come in handy when printing, NX strangely enough just gives you a scale of 1-100 in terms of quality. Maybe it's hidden somewhere and I just haven't found it yet.
5. Verdict...Even though NX loses majority of it's battles with Lightroom, I still feel it is necessary if you want the most out of your images. NX simply gives the best Nikon RAW conversion possible, with the least amount of fussing. This has been an issue for Nikon DSLRs for quite some time. Nikon has made it difficult for third party RAW converters to read their RAW files, the thinking, I'm assuming, will force you to use their software when if you want the best possible conversion.
There were two main questions I asked when first embarking on this ridiculously time consuming endeavor. Which one is better? and Do either one replace Photoshop?
Sadly, the answer is almost as frustrating as the learning curve. Neither of the two really tops one another. Image quality is great with NX, but their browser is a joke. Reviewing a massive amount of images would quickly turn into a chore. Lightroom is really a good balance for all around use. But it's RAW processing, at least for Nikons, just doesn't compare. And even worse, neither of these applications replace Photoshop. Adobe's big dog still stands as king of the hill, now I just wish I was better at using it. That aside, both Lightroom and NX offer acceptable to excellent conversions, I'm going to continue using both. Lightroom to help organize and pick the ones for further editting, and NX to do the editting.
Before I get all moist and unstable about post-processing, I'd like to bring up Tammy, my lens. I just couldn't resist testing for focusing problems. (Front focus/Back focus). Although I wasn't being super technical (no tripod for example), I found that at wide open apertures there is a slight tendancy to focus a little in front of the intended target. (shooting text for instance.) Although minimal, imagine the implications when photog-ing a person's face where the eyes are generally the most important thing to focus on. With a very shallow depth of field, you may find the eyes blurry but their eyebrows tack sharp. But I don't feel it's too much of an issue, if it does turn into one, I'll send it in to Tamron for re-calibration - not likely until I get another lens to keep attached on Niki.
So, that's another thing going for the 17-55mm Nikkor version - damn I wish I had that kind of money ($1300). But as nice as that lens is, Canon offers a lens with the same focal range/maximum aperture and even includes IS, aka VR, aka Image Stabilization, aka Vibration Reduction. And the Canon version is roughly 300 less than the Nikkor. (It's still roughly 400 more than Tammy though.) One knock against the Canon version is that it's not built to the same Tank-like qualities as the Nikkor. Simply put, if you have the money for first-party lenses I'd say it's always the safer bet. But for a lot less money, my Tammy performs almost as well and I'm more than happy with it - shit, we can't all date supermodels.Well I'm pretty set at the wide settings, anything more would really be a novelty that I truly can't afford. But aside from other accessories (a dedicated flash or two, extra batteries and a vertical grip, I'm spying some potential zoom telephotos. No, I don't want to peak into my neighbors house...hrmm...when photog-ing people a longer focal range generally gives more pleasing proportions. For example, most wedding photographers use a 70-200mm zoom since majority of their photos are of people. Obviously not for group photos, but next time you see a wedding photog with a giant lens, you can almost always bet it's a 70-200mm.
Nikon's telephoto zoom is simply kick-ass. Talk about serious arm and neck fatigue, this bad-boy spends a shitload of time in the gym. It also has VR to help compensate at the longer focal lengths. But of course this guy doesn't come cheap. Weighing in at $1500, this lens costs more than my camera. Another drawback, for those of you who think the $1500 price tag isn't enough, you need approximately 5ft of distance in order to focus. That's good if you want to keep your distance but if something gets close you can forget about it. One last drawback is it's conversion rate - Niki converts all focal lengths by a factor of 1.5 (meaning a 35mm film negative is about 1.5x larger than her sensor). So 70-200 turns into 105-300! This could be a positive if you're into jungle safaris, or taking photos of someone really far away, but at the closest focusing distance of 5ft you're probably won't even be able to fit their face in frame.Gez, all this bad mouthing, why is it so expensive? Well aside from the near-silent, superfast autofocusing, which can be manually overridden at any time (this is more important than you think it might be), and it's tank exterior, this lens is capable of producing some of the sharpest images your camera can make. Not to mention the out of focus areas (bokeh) looks phenomenal. In short, it's the shit man!
But there has to be an alternative, your thinking. Well there is, sadly it's a third party company with the same third party drawbacks. It is much better built than most third party lenses, and features a similar HSM autofocus system (read: AFS for Nikkors and USM for Canon), but it's main drawback comes down to quality control and lack of VR. Which is a shame really, certain third party lenses compare favorably with their Nikon/Canon counterparts, but the quality control just isn't there. Sigma's 50-150mm covers the more traditional 70-200mm focal length on Niki's smaller sensor. It's lighter and smaller too! Although I like the "bigness" of the Nikkors, long days with these lenses can potentially be a real pain. Even it's focusing distance is significantly shorter, at a little over 3 feet. Yet reviewers once again agree that it all comes down to your luck when getting one - much like Tammy. On a plus note, the Sigma is only about $679, that's less than half of the Nikkor's asking price.
And even with the Sigma's HSM near-silent af system, all-time manual override, lighter, smaller frame, and better price - why the hesitation? Quality control...*sigh. Hell I could look past the lack of VR, but spending nearly $700 and getting faulty lens would be infuriating. Maybe by the time I have enough for this lens, all the quirks will be worked out? Here's to hoping...
SOFTWARE
Well that rant on lenses lasted a lot longer than I expected. First things first...
1. Niki's exposure readings tend to look a bit underexposed. I first began adjusting the readings by +0.3 or +.07, but I soon realized there was a method to Niki's madness. If you shoot a scene and blow out the highlights (bright light sources/white areas in the photo), you can not recover them very well. So it is better to shoot what looks like underexposure and edit to taste later. That's not to say that certain scenes won't need adjustment (snow, beach, bright windows, severely backlit subjects) but for the most part, Niki's Matrix metering is dead on. I've reshot several scenes with varying degrees of compensation and Niki is never off by more than a third of a stop. In short, I am relearning what a proper exposure looks like. In film it's a little bit of the opposite, since darkening a photo later was was somewhat easier.
(*note: photos tend to have a gray cast over them as well, but I've realized this is due to the to my use of "-" parameters in the respective tone and saturation settings. Why use "-" parameters? Well it lends itself much better to post processing - i.e. levels and curves. Try it and you'll see.)
2. When I first got the camera I shot RAW + JPEG. But I've switched to strictly RAW files, since I'm not shooting hundreds of photos, and they provide the highest amount of room when editting. Not to mention, it is forcing me to get better at using Capture NX and Lightroom. But due to my computer's age, I will further experiment with JPEG settings in-camera to produce reasonably good photos straight from Niki. The RAW files are massive and working with a small number of them, less than 20, causes considerable slowdown on my Powerbook. But my beef with the lack of in-depth custom image parameters takes
over and it is simply impossible to get the same quality in camera versus post-processing. I guess it's much like to getting prints from Walgreens back in the day. They weren't bad, but when I fucked around with them in the dark room at school, or got them printed by a dedicated photolab, the images were significantly better. This is one nod I have to give to the Canon DSLRs, at least the 30D, I don't know much about the Rebels, but the 30D has up to +- 9 per setting. Don't tell Niki okay? I don't want her getting a complex. But eventually I'd like to upgrade my computer and purchase a larger memory card. (You'd think 2gb would be enough...)
Okay, let's begin. I figure the easiest way to do this is to break it down by software.
Adobe Lightroom
1. As far as looks go, this is one sexy application. The only other thing sexier is Apple's own Aperture. But my comptuer is simply not man enough for that thing. On a side note, I've been reading less than stellar comments about it's RAW conversion engine...? Anyways, Lightroom is very well organized. Click here to get to Lightroom's web page and check out their video titled "Feature Tour".
2. Organization, importing, and selecting keepers versus rejects are all done very well. With less than 20 photos at a time it can be manageable to do it yourself, but I recall a friend of mine's birthday (Jenna! which is coming up soon!) and I shot over 300 images on my Sony V3. Yea, organizing that shit was futile. It does take some time before Lightroom becomes workable though. It has to create previews of each RAW file, but once it does that it ran much faster than I thought it would on my Powerbook.
3. Post-processing is pretty well done. For those of you who are familiar with Photoshop many of the tools will familiar, albeit more streamlined. I'm sure PS veterans will be able to turn out photos to their liking. Lightroom does a much better job at reducing Chromatic Aberrations (weird color shifts found on the edges of high contrast areas in a photo, ie. branches and the sky). One of Lightroom's pitfalls is the inability to apply sharpening or any effects really to an isolated part of an image. It can however adjust particular color tones, which I found to be very useful when I wanted to up the saturation of certain colors without affecting others. (Kind of like making the image look like it was shot on Velvia or Portra.) But for the most part, Lightroom is definitely geared towards the batch-processing division, prepping photos for more serious PS work if necessary. The photos actually don't look bad at all, I'd be more than happy with them if I didn't see Capture NX's output.
4. Saving/converting files. Saving the RAW file once you're finished editting is real easy. You don't have to click save or anything. Lightroom creates sets of instructions tagged to the RAW file, so when they open up again, Lightroom just reads the instructions and shows you the image as you last editted it. Another plus is, you can always revert back to the original, all the while never losing an image information - RAW's main benefit. Conversion to PSD, JPEG, and TIFF take a couple seconds to 1-2 minutes. They look good. Nothing more I can say about that. But I do have a question printing...which I'll address at the end.
5. Verdict: Great app! If I were better at Photoshop, this would be the perfect lead in to that application. Photoshop is really overkill in terms of converting properly exposed photos. Lightroom takes the tools most photogs would ever use and combines them into an easy and manageable package. Even it's monochrome conversions are downright sexy. But if you want more fine-tuning, layers, and selective editting than you're still going to need Photoshop. The new CS3 version is looking mighty fine though...I might have to try that shiz out.
Nikon Capture NX
1. It's no sleek, sexy beast like lightroom. But it's simple, and minimalistic. Pretty blah in this department. In fact I might go so far as saying it's ugly. Sorry Nikon...but it is effective, and while not much of a looker, all the controls and options are in fairly convenient locations.
2. Organization...certianly isn't one of it's strong points. The built in browser shows teeny thumbnails where no real evaluation of quality could be made. It really is more of an editor, not an organization+editor tool like Lightroom. It also takes a bit longer opening up one file and working with it.
3. Post-processing...finally something Capture NX does better than Lightroom - with one exception. The colors really do pop out at you with this software. Or you can have them toned down, whatever you want. While lightroom's sliders are somewhat a little more complex, Capture NX's get the job done with less fuss and admirably at that. Nikon has been touting "U-Point" technology as the heart and sould of NX, and they should be. Awesome doesn't do it justice. Think about the power of layers in photoshop, only simplified and easier to apply. You can even paint the desired effect on or off a subject. After watching a few of Nikon's how-to videos, I was rockin' and rollin' with NX. Speaking of painting, you can brush on sharpness selectively, something sorely missing in Lightroom. What about that oone exception though? Well the chromatic aberration control doesn't really work. I mean it minimizes shit, but not nearly as good as Lightroom. But it's forgiveable in terms of overall image quality NX wins. But perhaps exporting as a TIFF and editting further in Photoshop wouldn't be a bad idea if chromatic aberration is bothering you. As far as monochromatic conversions, NX and Lightroom play a little role reversal. I think Lightroom's slight edge on complexity with their sliders edges out here.
4. Saving/converting files. NX differs from Lightroom in this respect. Saving RAW files takes some time (same as the JPEG export times, not a real biggy). I don't really get why, but it does. JPEG conversions were phenomenal, no qualms about that. But it didn't have many options compared to Lightroom. Lightroom allows you to set the dpi of the JPEG, which can come in handy when printing, NX strangely enough just gives you a scale of 1-100 in terms of quality. Maybe it's hidden somewhere and I just haven't found it yet.
5. Verdict...Even though NX loses majority of it's battles with Lightroom, I still feel it is necessary if you want the most out of your images. NX simply gives the best Nikon RAW conversion possible, with the least amount of fussing. This has been an issue for Nikon DSLRs for quite some time. Nikon has made it difficult for third party RAW converters to read their RAW files, the thinking, I'm assuming, will force you to use their software when if you want the best possible conversion.
There were two main questions I asked when first embarking on this ridiculously time consuming endeavor. Which one is better? and Do either one replace Photoshop?
Sadly, the answer is almost as frustrating as the learning curve. Neither of the two really tops one another. Image quality is great with NX, but their browser is a joke. Reviewing a massive amount of images would quickly turn into a chore. Lightroom is really a good balance for all around use. But it's RAW processing, at least for Nikons, just doesn't compare. And even worse, neither of these applications replace Photoshop. Adobe's big dog still stands as king of the hill, now I just wish I was better at using it. That aside, both Lightroom and NX offer acceptable to excellent conversions, I'm going to continue using both. Lightroom to help organize and pick the ones for further editting, and NX to do the editting.
The two images of Daniel were editted in Lightroom (left) and Capture NX respectively (right). Notice how NX has a lil more oomph, but Lightroom effectively cleared the purple fringing on the lower right hand side of Daniel while still providing pleasing, yet slightly more muted tones. Click on either pick for a larger version. Sorry for the awkward layout, I suck at html.
But I am curious about other programs, Bibble Pro and RAW Developer come to mind. I hear they are fast and offer quality conversions...maybe after finals I'll tackle those.
And what about printing? hell i don't know. From what I've been reading, you really need to calibrate your monitor to get the most accurate transition from screen to print. If any of you have any insight, lemme know. For instance, what format would you print out of? Particularly if you go through internet printing labs. I know they don't generally accept RAW files, but what about TIFF vs JPEGS...oh crap, the battle rages on. What is the proper dpi (dots per inch) setting? Color profiles? Printer profiles? AHHHHH WHERE THE FUCK IS MY FILM!?
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