Dredging up some oldies...

Today was on of those days. I didn't have a ton of time to take photos; it was dreary, I was sleep-deprived, and I did a lot of running around. In the past 72 hours, I"ve gotten about four hours' sleep. Insanity. I'm not anxious about anything (that I know of, anyhow) and I've cut caffeine from my life nearly completely, so I'm not sure what my deal is. I'm pretty damn tired at this point.

Before I had a Flickr account, I just archived all my photos on my computer or (by a very disorganized system that makes sense to nobody, myself included) hosted them on our website. I found a few old photos I really like.



I love this picture. If you knew the girl, you would too. She looks like Bogey in Casablanca; an old-time guy trapped in the modern age.



The colors in this one make me happy. I also love that it makes D look all tough, like he painted that van. In reality, he just stood by it. Then we went to a house where he was taking care of about seven million birds. The point of the trip was for my to photograph the birds--it didn't really work out. I'm terrified of birds, and ended up freaking out and hiding in the garden outside. This photo was all that was worth anything, in the end.

I think I need to do more portraiture. Of humans, that is.


Zero.

Croskey St. I love the contrast of the chrome against the brick.

Friends and musings on thirty.

Sometimes I am overwhelmed by how much my life has changed in the last few years. Six years ago, I was constantly anxious. I was in a relationship I felt I couldn't escape. I didn't have any friends. Oh, how things have changed.

In which we party a bit too hard for a Sunday afternoon.

Nikki and Jesse in their livingroom. They hosted the best brunch ever yesterday.


Sharon being a dork. I'll miss living with her and Jordan when they move out.


Lou all bundled on the fire escape.


A closeup of Jesse, for which she might kill me. Unless she likes it. (I do.)


It's taken me a while to fully admit this, but I sort of freaked out about turning 30. I'm not sure why; it's just a number, after all. I still get carded regularly, and no one ever believes me when I disclose my age. So what is it that's so scary about 30? I don't really know, but I think I'm over it now. It just took a little while. (Or maybe it's cyclical, and I'll re-freak again in a few weeks. Yeah, that's more my style. Calm and collected? Not so much.)

With age comes relative calm, at least for me. In my early twenties, I was insane. I mean that in a fairly literal way; I partied all the time and never took anything seriously. I did things that I look back on in disbelief and even shame. Sometimes I can't believe that was really me. I hurt people without thinking twice about it and never claimed responsibility for my actions. There were some serious issues I was dealing with (or, more accurately, not dealing with) at the time--not that this relieves me of responsibility, but I was a hot mess and I couldn't handle myself. I'm glad I'm past most of that now.

I'm pretty happy with where things are taking me right now. I'm finally finishing those last few classes of undergrad and looking forward to what a B.A. might hold for me. I have a good job, awesome friends, a beautiful house, and I'm in love with the best person I've ever met.

I'm feeling positive about life. This is good.