when it rains, it pours (in a good way)

I went to bed wayyy too late last night (or rather, this morning), which meant I raced home between jobs today for a cat nap. Unfortunately, Trix took this to mean that a cat needed to be involved. Once I convinced her that she was not a necessary ingredient to my nap (I promise you, this is The most fidgety cat you've ever met in your life), I hear her plop herself on the arm of couch as if to say, "I'm still here!" All this is to say that I'm ready to hit the sack, so this is not going to be a long or profound post.

Glad we got that out of the way.

I've been getting stuff in the mail for the past few days and I wanted to brag. Can you see my sheepish grin from all the way over there? On Monday, I come home to find not one, but TWO superb deliveries. First, my brand spankin' new Canon 35mm lens arrived! I feel slightly more "photographer-ish" now that I have something other than just my kit lens. Look out. world, I can take pictures of this bush if I darn well please because I've got a 35mm LENS. Packed neatly in two rows, I also found my new order of yarn. Huzzah! I love having a knitting project. Begone, boredom!

This last one might just be TMI, but since it's about my hubby being the sweet, thoughtful guy that he is, I'll spill the beans. We come home yesterday from a sweaty bout of tennis and I happen to glance at the mail table out in the hallway, since there were two packages sitting there. They're hardly ever for me, but since I love packages and presents, I take a look anyway. Wonder of wonders, one IS for me. I assume it's the freebie Victoria Secret perfume that Drew got for my birthday ages ago that's been on backorder. I rip open the package and out slides a strapless bra. My awesome husband, knowing that I was in desperate need of a strapless number (I'd been bemoaning the fact for at least a month, but seriously, I'm not a fan of bra shopping), had done the research online and ordered me a bra. Not only was it the right size, but it's actually awesome. Way better than something I could've picked out for myself. To top it off, he had snagged a coupon off the Internet for free panties, so tada! Two for one. Sweet!

Okay, I promised you a short post. I lied. Good night!

of train whistles and schools and thoughts on a Monday night

The train is shrilling loudly, its insistent blasts disturbing the wide sheet of inky darkness that surrounds my apartment. I think maybe the train is trying to get my attention. Of all the strange quirks that this dear old apartment has shared with us these past two and a half years, the train is what I'm going to miss the most. No, I'm not moving away. Yet. But I hope to. The hubby sent out his first two applications this past weekend (he has three more to go, but those deadlines aren't for another few months).

As far back as I can remember, if I've ever really really wanted something, I would do what I could to make it happen. But I'd also refuse to spill the beans to anyone until the thing was a done deal. I felt that if I shared my dream with people, I'd jinx it. 

i.e. Hey, I'm hoping to get a really sweet job at so-and-so and I'm psyched! Then BAM, someone else gets the job.

See, that's the way my weird mind thinks. If I tell you what I really really want, it can't possibly happen. Well, goodbye to old ideas. Hubs is applying to five schools for their accelerated nursing program (i.e. he's hoping to get a second undergraduate degree in one year). This is our back-up plan, as he first attempted to get into grad school to become a physician's assistant (PA). Apparently, everyone and their kitchen sink decided to become a PA and so the proverbial market is flooded. This means that at each school, 800 or so PA candidates are fighting tooth and nail to get into a 50+ student program.

I will love you forever if you'd keep the hubs in your thoughts and prayers as he waits to hear back from nursing schools. We're both ready for that adventure; for that second step that's been a long time in coming. Thanks muchly!

i knew i liked summer

"I had that familiar conviction that life was 

beginning over again with the summer."

- F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby 

on friday, i got off my butt

My persnickety roommate

I really wanted to pick up a pizza from Pizza Hut. But not just any old pizza. 

It would be a large, stuffed crust, cheesy pizza scattered with black olives. 

And maybe some green peppers. 

But hours earlier, I had come up with a cheaper & healthier solution:

a veggie burger w/the works (read: fresh lettuce, banana peppers, 

muenster cheese, as well as the usual duo, ketchup & mustard), 

pesto pasta, and pickles on the side.

yes!

But who wants to go to that effort?

It's Friday evening and I desperately wanted to be lazy

(does that make sense? Being "desperately" lazy? I didn't think so either).

But I was also lonely and bored

I'm still getting the hang of the whole being-by-myself-five-

afternoon/evenings-per-week thing.

The best medicine in the world (it ain't pretty) is doing something.

First I made a beeline for my stereo and popped in a CD. 

Bob Marley's soulful lyrics soon flooded the space.

No matter what anyone tells ya, if you're lonely, music helps a lot. For reals. 

And Marley is the ultimate in summer music.

And when I popped the first few pesto'd pieces into my mouth, 

mmmm, 

let me tell you, it was all worth it. 

The veggie burger was delic as well. 

alison & jeremiah | 6.11.2011 | shooting with jesse kitt photography

The groomsmen were pinning on their corsages, the bridesmaids were strolling across the field towards the ceremony site when it began to drizzle. "What happens when it starts to rain?" I asked a fellow assistant photographer, laughing, as we both ducked for cover. The rain didn't stick around for long, however, and fifteen minutes later, Alison was ready, arm tucked into her father's, to walk towards the man she wanted to marry. Surrounded by friends and family, Alison and Jeremiah said their vows while Jesse Kitt and I frantically snapped away.

Images shot with Jesse Kitt Photography

the "un-named" post

I've been feeling stressed lately. A lot. a. Crunch time has rolled around and Drew's applying to the first batch of schools. b. So of course I start to worry about the future. c. The little blocks in my calendar are way more full of work than I had anticipated. Ugh. d. I'm feeling antsy - I'm geared up for a terrific adventure...but don't see one ahead. e. Meanwhile, a few anthills have popped up in front me (I'm feeling helpful, so I'll say these hills are metaphors for friendship uh-oh's in my personal life) and I'm really struggling with how to tackle them.

And unluckily for me, Drew is now working the twilight shift, 3PM to 10 PM (although let's be honest here, he never actually gets off at 10PM - it's more like midnight or later). I'm grateful for the second income - really, I am! - but it's hard being alone every night. Or rather, being here with only my stressed self for company (oh yes, and two cats).

I'm getting depressed just thinking about all of this. And I'm sounding whiny.

I then remember that we're taking off very very early Thursday morning for the airport, where a tiny plane will take us to Ft. Myers, Florida. This weekend is all about catching up with a few very good friends and taking in as much beach and pool time as I can stand.

So farewell, stress. You are wreaking havoc with my life and so, I bid you farewell.

thing #1

thing #2

fist pump!

Feet are a little sore, my two CF cards ran home with someone else (sniff), and the back of my left ankle is sporting a sweet little red welt (my clumsy self getting caught up with an electrical cord...sheesh), BUT I helped shoot my very first wedding today! *fist pump*

*another fist pump*

*awww heck, okay, ANOTHER fist pump!*

Can you tell I'm excited? I've been shooting with a Canon Rebel xTi since last January. I've convinced family, friends, and non-friends to pose for portraits. I was that annoying person - who's not the professional photographer - snapping away at friends' weddings. But this time, I was the one clutching a backstage pass in my hands...and it was FUN! 

Thank you to the fabulous Jesse Kitt of Jesse Kitt Photgraphy for graciously allowing me to be her assistant today. Cheers for another wedding in two weeks!

As I said earlier, my CF cards took off for a few days, so I can't share any images from today's wedding. To make up for that sad fact, reader, meet pudgy grass dude. This is what happens when panty hose encounters garden dirt and grass seed. No, a preschooler created this guy, not me.

the evening before monday.

Some photos I found floating around in Bridge. They were sad about never having seen the light of the computer screen, so I did some editing and posted away!

a birthday present from hubs

pita pizzas!

self-portrait

in the throes of hummus production

another birthday present from hubs (this one he made!)

conflict resolution

My writing class ended in April…but then that class of fifteen or so morphed into a small writing group of five that meets every other week. I’ve heard of writing groups who share their stories with each other, offer praise, constructive criticism, and lend moral support and I’ve always longed to belong to one. Now I’m in…and it’s so much FUN! Why didn’t I do this earlier? We were having way too good of a time to let it all go after GSWP ended (read: we had broken the ice, shared intimate pieces of ourselves via our writing, and heck, who wants to start that process over again with a new group?).

Now that I’m accountable to a group of writers, I’ve told myself (quite sternly) that I WILL get serious and begin working on “that long piece of fiction” that I’ve always dreamed of pinning down. But the last two weeks were crazy and so I brought a short story in today (I promised myself - again, sternly - that I’d get to the long piece of fiction after today). This story is one that I began months ago, but never finished. So after a (hot) morning of music lessons, followed by four (extremely hot) hours of babysitting kiddos, I wisely spent the thirty minutes before class wrapping this up.

Conflict Resolution

“Joey, he’s at it again.”

“Hmmphh...”

“Joey?” My toes crept over to his side of the bed and prodded a shin. “Do you hear that racket?”

“Armph.”  I responded to his caveman grunt with a sharp tap on the same shin.

“I hear you, I hear you,” Joey moaned, rolling over. “It sounds like he’s re-finishing his floors. At…” he squinted at the green digital numbers for a full twenty seconds, “…six o’clock in the morning. Man,” he yawned, “talk about a weird neighbor.”

“Weird?” I retorted. “He’s plain annoying! He scrapes chairs across the apartment at midnight, runs a full-fledged workshop at all hours of the day, and refinishes his floors at 6AM!” My voice was shrill. Maybe the neighbor could hear me. I was losing sleep over this and my nerves were shot.

“Angela,” Joey began. He was concerned; I could tell by his tone of voice. Maybe today was the day he’d take the stairs two at a time, pound on number fourteen, and angrily berate our inconsiderate neighbor.

I pictured our neighbor’s expression - he would be surprised, like a husband who finds out that his wife knew all along that he was cheating on her. He’d wear a penitent expression, similar to the sorry mutt who was caught relieving himself on the kitchen floor. And he would shower Joey with apologies, much like that altar boy who caught pouring hot wax over all the surpluses. Dry cleaning bills are no joke. That altar boy apologized like a pro, hoping he wouldn’t be stuck with the tab.

And in a humble voice, our neighbor would promise never to make anything screech, bam, or boom again.

“When are you going over?” I asked, bouncing on the mattress in my excitement.

“Going over?” Joey looked puzzled.

“You know, to yell at the neighbor.”

“Ann…” Joey began, “It’s six o’clock in the morning. If my head hits the pillow now, I still get another hour of sleep before work.”

“Not with that noise…” I began.

“Ear plugs,” Joey countered, grabbing a pair from the night table. “Bingo!” He stuffed the squishy red blobs in his ears, made a silly face at me, and rolled over. In what seemed to me like seconds, a soft snore was issuing from his side of the bed.

I lay there, steam billowing from my ears. After a particularly long, loud screech, I couldn’t take it any longer. “Six in the morning or not,” I muttered, “you’re getting a piece of my mind, buddy. Grabbing a ratty UNC Asheville sweatshirt from the dresser, I pulled it over my head while shuffling towards the door. That was a big mistake. “Ouch,” I moaned pathetically, clutching my big toe. I hopped around awkwardly for a minute, my gaze trapped on the fuzzy, dark blue insides of my sweatshirt, before I made it out the door, toe back on the floor and sweatshirt over my head.

I trudged up the stairs and quickly, before I could change my mind, gave two sharp raps on my neighbor’s door. It flew open faster than I expected, allowing me to take in the shock of graying hair, slightly tilted glasses, and irate expression on my neighbor’s face.

“Wait, why is HE wearing the irate expression?” my brain was asking.

“Well, thank goodness you’re here,” he said. “I’ve been hoping to have a word with you for quite some time now. Come to apologize, have ya?”

“Excuse me?” I blurted, trying to figure out how MY conversation with this guy had taken such a wrong turn. “Why would I be apologizing?”

“Why?” he snapped. “WHY? Do you think I can’t hear you at three in the morning, what with those creaking bedsprings and the obnoxiously loud moaning and giggling? I’m not deaf,” he accentuated the last word. “And how’s about that canine mutt of yours, yapping for food in the morning, yapping for a walk in the afternoon, yapping for affection in the evening. Ever heard of a muzzle?” Clearly this tirade had been long in coming. The man was practically foaming at the mouth. “And WHO,” he demanded, “WHO keeps their speakers on that loudly? I was never a fan of all those stupid reality TV shows, but heck, I can now hum ever single intro! And I don’t want to!”

I had taken a step backwards at this point. Was there a chance that my neighbor was certifiably insane?

“And to top it off, you invite your noisy friends over and you all play video games until the wee hours of the morning! And then you and that husband of yours go to bed and set the bedsprings to creakin’. Damn it!” he finished. He followed his curse with a strong glare before slamming the aging door right in my face.

I stumbled back down the stairs in a fog, pushing open the door to the apartment and making my way back to the bedroom. I crawled wearily into bed, sweatshirt and all, wishing I had hours of sleep at my disposal.

“How’d it go, champ?” Joey mumbled. “Did you let him have it?”

“Don’t ask,” I whispered, burying my head in the pillow. “He definitely won round one.”

copyright 2011 by viktorija krulikas girton