I just finished the last few pages of the annual photobook. It is now being processed by Apple and will be sent to me this week. Typically, this is a day of celebration in my house—I love getting the new photobook in the mail. Today, I was in tears in the coffee shop as I finished the final touches. Crazy how the first fourth of the book is so different from the rest. However, I am looking forward to getting the book in and then saving all my photos of the year onto discs and getting them off my computer—I’m so sick of them popping up in my face when I go to work on other photos. Also excited to start the 2010 photobook. And 2010 altogether.
It was interesting; I got a message from a dear friend on facebook today. He mentioned that he read my blogs from the past couple days and was pleasantly surprised about the mood I seem to be in—as if I am turning a corner or something. That was very nice to say, and I hope he’s right, but I couldn’t help wonder if he was reading someone else’s blog. As I wrote yesterday’s, I was feeling guilty for writing so depressingly on Christmas day, but whatever. What also surprised me was the fourteen people read my blog yesterday. For those fourteen of you, what the hell is wrong with you? It was Christmas!!! The last thing you need to read on Christmas is my blog! Goodness! As if Christmas music isn’t depressing enough the way it is!
Tonight, I am off to see Little House on the Prairie at the Performing Arts complex. My friend got free tickets again! It will be fun to see Melissa Gilbert in person. I always loved her!
Here’s a little tiddy for your enjoyment:
On Christmas Eve, while my brother and I were leaving Avatar, I noticed this tucker looking guy staring me up and down, but taking an unusually long look at my books. I caught him looking at me, but he didn’t look away, just continued to stare. Typically, when this happens, it means the guy is interested. I didn’t quite get that feeling however. I walked past him, wondering if I was abnormally good looking that evening or if I was abnormally flaming. A few feet from him, another man began to stare at me up and down. Trying to decide if I should feel flattered that I was about to get molested by a group of men or nervous about getting my ass kicked by a group of men, I met his eyes a little more forcibly than I did with the previous man. He mumbled something and gestured down towards my boots. I followed his motion and looked down. At first, I didn’t see anything other than the new stains from all the salt from the pavements, but then I began to stare too. Trailing along behind me, tagging a ride on my left boot was a train of toilet paper. Very festive, don’t you think? Luckily, I was in no danger of getting my ass kicked. Sadly, my massive sex appeal is not growing in power to the level where straight men are falling at my feet either.