Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Ah, equality

Here, in 2010, what...some 45 or so years after women's lib, in the age of workplace sensitivity seminars and an effective end to the fratboy mentality of dick jokes over martini lunches, what is it I get to be privvy to at work?

Girls telling dick jokes that'd get me branded the staff perv, written up or worse.

You sure have come a long way, baby. Oh, sorry, not "baby," as that is an unfair gender isolationist statement. I meant you've come a long way, empowered female colleague.
Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.3

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Damn proud to be an educated liberal

You know, nothing kickstarts MY morning like some anti-Muslim/poor-little-white-man hatemongering...in my office...inches from my desk. Like seriously? Who gives a sheepshit? It's 2010. Grow the hell up.
Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.9

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Photographic Stuff

New readers might not know this, but recently I've kind of developed a ham-handed camera kung-fu. The underlying philosophy here is that anything can shoot 35mm...ANYthing.

I'm loathe to admit it, but the seed of this philosophy isn't my dabbling in Lomography but rather at Undergrad State University. Sophomore year, my living arrangement was a petri dish/townhouse with three other dudes. Honestly, if it'd been the current Mrs. Pips and I, the place would've been livable, but with three dudes-- a poet/hipster-doofus, a reporter/frat boy doofus, a hacker/weirdo, and my stupid ass-- yuck. Anyway, the Poet had gotten his hands on an old camera, a folder in a cracking leather case. He'd farted around with it for a few days, and after farting so came in with a Walmart photo envelope. The pictures themselves were weird, like stills from a dream. Blurred all over the place, they had splotches of hideous red thrown here and there. "I used pieces from a pen," the Poet told me, "and it held the film in there, kinda. Looks like I have some light leaks, too." He gestured to the splotchy hideousness.

I hated the Poet then. Perhaps as a little wistful polyannaing, I've edited that down more to jaded 30's eye-rolling. But dammit, he did inspire me.

The latest of my Frankenstein monsters was pressed into service for the first time yesterday. Earlier this year, I came into some awesome antique cameras, including an Ansco 616. The fucker is a BEAST, taking medium format photos (in theory) on a pretty large spool. It telescopes out, and like my Holga/Diana/Brownies, can do multiple exposures super quick as the shutter's not locked in to the film advance. My favorite, though, is the little beast's yellow sun filter that slips right down over the lens and is quite literally just a thought-balloon shaped piece of Cold War plastic. As 616 film is tricky to obtain and damn-near impossible to get developed ($35 and up per roll!), I took a page from my Holga book.

Taking the uptake spool, I dead-eyed the 35mm edge on one end, and boom, 616 can safely hold 2 rolls of 35mm with no overlap or gap.  You'll need to black out the window like in a Holga shooting 35mm, sure, but that's two strips of tape.  Done.

So a few months back, I went to this professional conference in Penn State.  While there, I braved the uncertainty of March or April (whichever) in Pennsylvania and went, coat-less, walking around near my hotel, down a typically-Pennsylvanian grass-and-boulder hill, the whole time going "This is a fucking retarded idea and you are going to hurt yourself."  I took that same mindset yesterday on the way home from work, stopping my car and crosing two lanes of superhighway near Amish country to take Frankenstein 616, my Brownie Hawkeye, and another Ansco 120 cam of mine on an expidition.  Our quarry were skeleton trees-- those white-all-year-round dead ones that never fall down-- and the Amish cornstalk stacks in their fields.  Adding a real interesting twist of...Idon'tknowwhat...I was still wearing my Shape-Up sneakers, so running was really kind of out of the question.

Obviously I'm fine.

So we'll see what happens.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Mixtape du Jour: My Bloody Valentine's "Soon"

In the first of an ongoing rant about the various Earworms that plague me from time to time, I've chosen one of my favorite MBV tracks. I say "one of" since my usual curse of being shittastic with song titles is even worse with MBV and most post-rock flava'ed acts.

On to it...

The most recent infestation of "Soon" was over cooking/washing dishes last night. The next morning, the haunting, wordless "ning-ning/ning-ning" chorus break washed over me in my morning paperwork slot.

Man.

That shit is like a huge cigarette puff just walking leisurely out of my lungs, strolling devil-may-care up my trachea and esophagus. Past the larynx...the pressure differential here starts to quicken its exuent (sp?) and it's near my teeth. Serpentine tendrils merge to whitegrey cotton and escape in a crowd that suddenly finds itself leaderless. Loops and whorls form, completing the solution of some long and laborious obscene calculus.

The smokecloud passes my blissed-out but ultimately bored face, leaning against a wall or couchback or futon or something until the singing-- obscurred and buried like pixellated or solarized softcore cable porn on a station you don't get-- kicks in and I breathe the last of the smoke more forcefully...

"Cigarette" smoke.

Right.
Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.9

Ethics

Is it cruel to leave a clock that doesn't work on a blind woman's wall?
Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.9

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Afternoon Projects

Yester, Mom-in-Law was nice enough to stick around to watch SkipsKid 1.0 in the afternoon during his nap. I needed a project, and the remainder of my hedge trimming duties fit the bill nicely.

The following things occurred:
1) Apparently, the nest of indistinguishable birds that I attempted to take down from our gutters with a pocket rake is still inhabited. To boot, everytime I so much as thought about them, they'd pop up squawking.

2) I found an adorable wee toad just chillin'. Daymn, what a sweet toad, you might say. So's to not rake his face off, I put him in some tupperware until such raking was all done, at which point he bounded away, most unhappy with my human ass.

3) Buried in our holly bush garden, I found a heart-shaped rock and a head-first St. John figurine. SkipsMom said that it was some kind of talisman for you to sell your house. K then.
Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.9

Sunday, September 12, 2010

That's odd...

I hate when our cats drop acid. They never share.
Published with Blogger-droid v1.5.9

Friday, September 10, 2010

The Power

So I'm back into the world of blogging.

Big fucking whoop, right?  Another idiot with a keyboard.  I missed it though, honestly.  Sometimes shit just happens you need to get rid of in bloggity form.

Today's "dude, I miss my LJ?"  Mulling over the irony of having yesterday finally looked up "kafkaesque" on dictionary.com.  Thus sayeth: "marked by senseless, disorienting, often menacing complexity."  This morning, we officefolk found that we were being issued the second-this-month update to billing paperwork in anticipation of massive, government-backed sweeping reforms.  Normally this wouldn't be a big deal, and I roll with it as best I can.  However, this update split up the paperwork from one horrifically grinding and nearly unreadable grid into two slightly larger ones (done in Excel, too, for no real good reason).  Added for my delights?  The fact that the coding for one of my main billable activities was incorrectly entered, meaning that I could go ahead with the second by-hand revision of billing paperwork for all my customers or not do so anticipating that this was indeed an error.

And, wouldn't you know it, the paperwork guru/HMFIC wasn't in today.

Happy Friday.