Dance After Dark Photography

Shooting with Erica and Carrie yesterday, we were constantly making horribly inappropriate jokes. Since we were walking downtown with two women at my beck and call, we kept making cracks about me being a pimp. Later, as we were walking out of the Maitland Art Center, a lady walking past with her dog stopped short. She explained that her dog isn’t dangerous, but she still has to be careful. Carrie was wearing nice stockings, and the lady explained:

“She’s a little too friendly. I wouldn’t want her to jump all over your pretty hose.”

As we walked back to the car, I couldn’t help asking, “Was she talking to you or me? Don’t want no bitch jumpin’ all over my hoes.”

I tell you, life is just more interesting when you live in the gutter.

At work today I had the theme song from Sanford & Son stuck in my head. Not only that, but I had the “breakin’ it down” section where they really get into the groove on permanent repeat. Every once in a while Fred Sanford popped in to shout, “You big dummy!” or “Ellizabeth! I’m comin’!”

Be afraid of the madness rolling around in my head. I know I am.

Talking with one of my closest friends yesterday, she commented on the fact that she’s only seen me angry once. She said it was scary. I’m usually a very nice guy, but she said that once I crossed the line into angry it looked like I could kill someone without a second thought. I’m not sure what to think about that.

In other news, I’ve added a few songs to my repertoire on the tinwhistle. I can play London Bridge, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and On Top of Old Smokey. I’m working on an Irish tune called Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms. I’m having trouble with the timing because I’ve never heard it before. With the other tunes I already know how it should sound. This one’s entirely from the sheet music, and I still don’t understand it completely. Either I’ll find the song somewhere, or I’ll skip to something like Salva Nos with a tune I know. I’m tempted to go for Sunshine of Your Love, just to hear it on the tinwhistle. [edit: During my lunch break, I went out to the car and figured out Salva Nos. Much happiness.]

I wonder if a higher quality whistle produces a clearer tone. This one almost has a burr to it, and I don’t know if that’s the instrument, me, or both. The highest note is pretty shrill, but that could just be me.

And once again, the terminology involved in playing my whistle just sounds dirty. Tonguing. Slurring. Fingering. Fipple. Dotted crotchets. I think I saw a 1950’s documentary about that last one. “Your Crotchets and You.”

I shot with Ana Aesthetic this past Sunday. More photos in my photo galleries.

Well, drunkenness anyway. I didn’t get around to much debauchery. Maybe I can make up for it this weekend.

I had set aside most of this past weekend for small get-togethers, but true to form something came up to kill about half of my plans. I was supposed to accompany my friend Kes to Cape Canaveral to photograph the sunrise Saturday morning, but Friday night’s 3-hour trip to the grocery store pushing a combined 400 lbs of mom & groceries killed that idea. I was in quite a bit of pain by the time we left the store, and I still had to unload the car & put things away.

Thankfully, Patty called me and we wound up hanging out. Anyone else, I probably wouldn’t have gone. I was persuaded because she and I always have fun and she has a very comfortable couch. I was in dire need of big cushions. We talked until about 4:00 in the morning without even realizing. I made it home shortly thereafter and finally slipped into oblivion around 5:00.

No beach on Saturday. I dragged myself (literally) out of bed around 1:30 and spent an hour soaking in very hot water. I wound up hanging out with Patty again before going to dinner with her, Brandon, Jada, and Kathy. I got a few unexpected birthday presents and a pecan pie. (Mmm, pie.) On a side note, I now officially have my own metal band.

Sunday was rough, but it was fun. I drove mom & grandma to Sarasota to have a two-birthday party with some old family friends. Denise & family are good people, but I wasn’t looking forward to the trip. As it turned out, the drive was the only bad part. We had fun. It was just the 3 hours there and 3 hours back that took a toll on my spine. Oh, and the state trooper who had the wrong idea about birthday presents didn’t help. Admittedly, she reduced my $181 ticket down to $81, but I could’ve done without the whole thing.

And here comes the drunkenness. Monday started off very poorly, but it ended well. Jenn treated me to sushi, including a bit of sake. Then we went to The Wine Room in downtown Winter Park, where we tasted several very nice wines and traded bad jokes with the employees. I’ll be going back there. We moved down the street to another wine bar, which I think is the Eola Wine Bar. I was a bit happy at this point, so I don’t know the name for certain. We talked with the bartender and sampled a few beers and what they called a flight of rieslings. Back to Jenn’s place after a bit of sobering, where she made a salad with mixed greens, baby portabello mushrooms, and very peppery beef cooked rare. Very good stuff.