house

Dancing In The Dark

I had spent probably an hour or so fiddling with the new LSM site, saving to the server every few minutes.

Thank goodness for my particular choice of workflow, because shortly before 9pm, the power went out. I had been listening to some Oakenfold (generally my soundtrack of choice while doing webstuff), and suddenly I heard a popping noise outside as my monitor winked out. Then silence. And frustration, until it occurred to me that I’d been saving every two minutes. 🙂

I got up from my desk, walked over to the cabinet o’ candles, and pulled out a couple. Lit one for the basement, one for the living room, and one for the dining room. It wasn’t actually dark yet, but I like to be prepared.

Anyway, it was too dim to really do anything indoors, even with the candles lit, so I went outside to see if the neighbors’ power was out, too. (Yes, I left the candles lit like an irresponsible Diana.) Sure enough, the neighbor lady was outside, and so was the one a couple doors down from her. Our whole end of the street was out.

Went back inside and located the old-school phone that doesn’t need plugged into a power outlet. Not the cell, although that would have worked, too. Anywho, I dug out the electric bill and called the 24-hour Emergency / Outage number I found listed there. I was expecting some surly switchboard operator, but it ended up being one of those automated voice recognition systems. At first, I thought it would be voicemail hell, but once I figured out that it was that voice recognition shit, it wasn’t bad. Just weird.

Once our power outage was reported to the nice computer, I grabbed a book and sat out on the front step to read for a while. After about 20 minutes, though, even the light outside wasn’t sufficient for reading. So, I went inside, blew out the rest of the candles (I’d extinguished the one downstairs before I went out to read), put on socks and shoes, grabbed my keys and my cellphone (it has a built-in flashlight) and went for a walk. Hell, nothing better to do, right? And maybe by the time I got back, my power would be back on. Right?

Wrong-o. Got back half an hour later, and still no lights. Not even any streetlights. Went back inside, re-lit the candles, and got out the Palm IIIc to write this entry. Thank goodness for backlit screens.

So, here I sit, at… *checks watch in glow of Palm screen* …10:45pm, covered in a thin film of perspiration thanks to the impotent and powerless box fan—

Holy shit. The power just came back on. I’ll be goddamned.

Two hours without power. Could have been worse.

Now to go upload this entry, and see whether my computer’s fried…

test rolls

Holga Roll #1

True to my word, I didn’t capture any amazing photos with my first roll of Holga film. I did manage to puzzle out 1.) how to load the bastard thing, and 2.) how to guesstimate the focus (and I thank the Lomo for prior help with that).

It also appears that the camera is, at least for now, free of major light leaks. That may change as time goes on, and the camera receives more abuse. 🙂 It’s also apparent from the photo above that the center of the image is indeed crisper than the edges, and that there is a noticeable amount of vignetting around the corners. I did use the flash, though, which might have added to the effect.

Overall, I think I’m pleased with my Holga.

Now I need to go ship off my three rolls of Lomo film and my one roll of Holga film from the 4th of July.

drumcorps

Drum Corps Reflections

My practice gloves smell like sunscreen and sweat. I reach into the horn case and put them on. I lift out my mellophone, still shiny from the bath and polishing it got Saturday afternoon before the performance.

That shine was the first thing, back in the summer of 1995, that made me truly realize that I was part of a drum corps. I remember being on the practice field at the Memorial Day camp, looking around the circle of horns warming up, and seeing the sun shine bright off the silver. It spoke to me somehow, made me realize that I was part of something I’d never dreamed I could do.

Now, standing in the basement of my house, I pick up my LakeShoremen horn, blow some long tones and lip slurs to warm up, then play through the show, opening my music to look at a few bars in a couple songs that I can never seem to get right. I run through the trouble spots again, then warm down with “Contact,” the horn feature.

It’s up to me now. This isn’t Junior corps, like Northern Aurora or Bluecoats. No one is going to make me practice. If I want to perform better at DCA than I did at DCM, I need to apply myself. Now that I’ve tasted performance again, now that I’ve roll-stepped out onto the turf and seen the stadium lights flash off the silver horns, now that I’ve heard the applause again and been congratulated by one of my own for a job well-done, now I can find the impetus to practice on my own.

How could I have thought of leaving? I’ll have to take time away from LSM eventually, I know… but not quite yet. There’s plenty of time to have kids and stay home on weekends. For now, I’m just starting to remember why I love this activity.

the ongoing saga of my job 1 Comment

Anywhere But Here

My day job doesn’t suck. In fact, my day job is really quite cushy. Eight-to-five, sitting at a desk, fixing people’s loans.

Still, this is the last place I want to be right now.

First off, I have about a zillion creative ideas running around in my head, and more keep popping up as the day goes on. I have to get the laundry done tonight, since I’ll be gone out of town with LSM this weekend, and I also have to practice my mellophone in preparation for that. There are also some other chores around the house that I’d wanted to tackle (mainly as a gesture of goodwill toward my loving husband who usually does all the housework).

I really can’t get excited about being here today. Not that anyone is ever really *excited* about their day job… but some days go faster than others. Today is just dragging like a mofo.

I don’t have much time left before I meet the carpool tomorrow to head out to DeKalb. I have so much to do.