I loathe technology

I've just spent a ridiculous amount of time attempting to figure out how to open the raw files from my new camera. Reading forums by photo nerds talking inane, typo-ridden tech talk. And I still can't open my damn files.

Basically, in getting the newer version of my old camera (It was only $100 more and has all this extra stuff, I thought), I'm now stuck with the lovely dilemna of incompatible file types and downloading new programs that don't work for this reason or that - basically all that I hate about digital photography and computers in general. The absurdity of it all is mindboggling. It cannot possibly be this difficult.

Oh, the poor camera store clerk that has to deal with me tomorrow...

at last

I have a camera. About bloody time.

Such delight.

I don't understand the French language

I'm working on my transcription job tonight, and in our last meeting Blair kept using the term "chargé d’affaires" - a term for which I knew neither the spelling nor the meaning. Not wanting to appear like an idiot, I figured I'd look it up later. I now know that it's not all that easy to look up words for which you know neither the spelling nor the meaning. And attempting to look up French words phonetically is quite comical. But I guess that's one of the things I like about this job - I'm learning things, even if I do take the long way about it.

chargé d’affaires: a diplomat ranking immediately below an ambassador who deputizes in the ambassador's absence

nuri bilge ceylan

My roommate just sent me the link to this guy's work. Stunning. Here's his website.

current favorite lyrics

Squint skyward and listen
Loving him, we move within his borders
Just asterisms in the stars' set order.
We could stand for a century,
Staring,
With our heads cocked,
In the broad daylight at this thing
Joy,
Landlocked
In bodies that don't keep,
Dumbstuck with the sweetness of being
'Til we don't be.
Told: Take this,
And eat this.

- From Emily by Joanna Newsom

forts

I wish that, as adults, we still made forts - you know, where you take assorted blankets and the kitchen chairs, and suddenly you have this haven from the outside world. I think we should start that back up again.

speaking of it being cold out...

weather.com says it might snow on Wednesday. So freaking excited.

(insert big, stupid, child-like grin here)

Fred is dead

Fred was the spider that lived above the front door to our house. He was probably the only spider I've ever not been afraid of. He was big and spotted and would sun himself during the day and curl himself up into a ball and wedge into the boards of the porch at night. He freaked me out at first, and I would duck when entering the house even though he was nowhere near my head, but after awhile I got used to him, at which point I named him. For awhile there he had a companion spider, whom I named Ethel (of course), but she left relatively quickly (how fickle we ladies are). Anyway, I came home the other night, and Fred was nowhere to be found. Troy said it's too cold out now for spiders and that he probably died. I won't lie - I was a little bummed.

So yeah, I felt that Fred deserved a little obituary. So there you have it. He was a good spider.

from ages ago

Ok, only about 3 years ago, when I was living in NY. Found this while going through an old CD of pics just now. Had to post it because it made me smile.

I'm so domestic

I made cranberry sauce today. It's probably the easiest thing you could ever make from scratch, but I'm nevertheless pretty darn proud of myself.

On the flip side, I almost burned down my apartment attempting to make toast this morning.

my poor roommate

I keep subjecting him to chick flicks. He just watched the end of Much Ado About Nothing with me. Not that Shakespeare should really be considered a chick thing, but still. His response: "Wow. That certainly was merry."

Whatever. I love that movie. I mean, honestly, how can you not love stuff like this (put to rather catchy music, no less):

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more;
Men were deceivers ever;
One foot in sea, and one on shore,
To one thing constant never;
Then sigh not so,
But let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny;
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into Hey nonny, nonny.

Willy knew what he was talking about. I'm not exactly sure what "nonny, nonny" means, but it sounds like a plan.

to elaborate...

My sister sent me this article awhile back, and I think it explains better than I ever could what I was referring to earlier. If you're at all interested, go here.

But basically, I can't read Seattleites. I'm intriqued by them, but in a science experiment sort of way - a science experiment in which I already know what the outcome is going to be, but I keep watching and waiting for a different one. Maybe that only makes sense in my head. Ultimately, I've found they talk a lot of talk without ever exactly following through. I'm sure they mean what they're saying when they're saying it, but it never quite materializes. It's hard to get angry, because I know there's no lack of good intentions, but I find myself perpetually frustrated by the whole phenomenon. I keep being reminded of that Will Farrell quote from SNL: "It's fine. I just wish you weren't a liar."

Anyway, I'm sure this is just the necessary homesick phase. No new place is without its flaws to get used to.

seattle folk baffle me

just needed to express that sentiment out loud

I'm only in it for the free food

The fun thing about shooting restaurants, I've just discovered, is that they like to send you home with tons of food. I randomly shot two new restaurants out in Bellevue tonight, and each sent me home with a little gift. The owner at the first place actually seemed a little hurt that I'd already eaten dinner and made me promise over and over that I'd come in again soon. But he wouldn't let me leave without having a glass of wine and a chocolate souffle (not that I really tried to resist all that much). And the second place sent me home with three to-go containers of sushi, which hopefully my roommate will enjoy. I'm all about the perks of the job.

beth is never allowed to leave

She just brought me coffee in bed. And she's making us eggs. With peppers and onions and spinach and everything. And I didn't oversleep for work yesterday because there was another person next to me so I would have felt guilty hitting the snooze button 20 times, as usual. When she leaves, I'll have to go back to buying coffee and skipping breakfast and being late for work, and that's just no good.

tall as trees, we were

Beth and I did some photoshopping over wine and cheese last night. We got a little color happy. Regardless, I love this dorky photo of our shadows.

trees trees trees (i like them)

oooh, the original

So I discovered in my sleeplessness that "secret heart" is originally a Ron Sexsmith song. I remember going with Tori to see him play at Hotel Cafe and thinking he was lovely, so I looked up his version. Here's the link to the youtube music video, since youtube wouldn't let me post it for some silly reason or another:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=fYrX3SOf6ds

A much more gut-wrenching, rather depressing (but gorgeous) version. I still like Feist's bounce, but I always love me my sad songs sung by men with pretty eyes. And Ron's got some crazy beautiful eyes. And fluffy hair. You can't go wrong there.

insomnia-induced impulse buying

Note to self: don't go on iTunes when you can't sleep. Much too dangerous.

I'm newly addicted to Feist (thanks to Veil's playlist) and Joanna Newsom (thanks to Monday's concert). Currently I can't stop listening to "Secret Heart". It's bouncy goodness at its finest. Making me smile, but not exactly helping me fall back asleep.

brrrrrrr!!!!

It was 35 degrees out when I left my house this morning.

Love it.