Nothing Too Exciting

Lovely Day

Not being a con­ven­tion­al pic­ture-tak­er, I feel like a big weirdo when I’m out and about shoot­ing with some film cam­eras that look noth­ing like mod­ern-time dig­i­tal cam­eras. I said “like a big weirdo” because I already feel like a weirdo just by being me. That’s why I rarely go out to shoot alone. I have to take Troy with me because he looks some­what nor­mal and I’m hop­ing he some­how neu­tral­izes my weird­ness, or at least makes me look a lit­tle less weird. Why I care about what some strangers think of me, I have no idea.


I bought two African vio­lets yes­ter­day because they were on sale for $1.49 each at the gro­cery store across the street. I’ve had one African vio­let before the addi­tion. I’ve had it for a lit­tle over a year and it’s been a real­ly good plant, bloom­ing every now and then. I thought I could adopt a cou­ple more. I read that your age is mea­sured by the num­ber of African vio­lets you have and that you should only have one African Vio­let for every decade you’ve been alive. I have three. I’m good.


You know it’s PMS-time when you feel blah for no appar­ent rea­sons.

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