Monday, November 1, 2010

Career Day

So Christian wanted to be "the donut guy" for Career Day at school...

I thought it was just about the cutest thing he could ever request. It's one of those moments that remind you how innocent and pure a child's mind is, ya know? [like when our little brother said he wanted "a car like PawPaw's" when he grows up (an old station wagon) - for which we have teased him relentlessly.] Cause Christian didn't request to be someone with a high paying job, or even something that would put him in the spotlight as the hero (like a cop or a fireman). Instead, he went with his heart... and probably stomach.

And sweeter still: When we went by Dunkin Donuts to see if they had any paper hats (like the ones at Krispy Kreme), the manager hooked us up with an official Dunkin Donuts visor and name tag - which totally made Christian's costume!


Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Why Is It...

When I'm in my car (or out and about), I have all these thoughts in my head - "spilt milk" to complain about - and when I sit down at the ole laptop: nuthin.

I mean, I write the best stuff when I'm not actually in front of the computer to write it. Readable stuff, I tell you.

And coming back to it in my mind later... It just isn't the same. It's like old news to me, and I don't want to revisit.

I need to not think during the day (or whenever I'm sans laptop).

moo.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Sometimes You Just Gotta Blog It Out

"Seriously?" she says??

Seriously?!!

to my MOTHER??!!

I consider myself a fairly tolerant person - to a fault even. But when it comes to my family... I'm sorry. Just NO. One word is straw, and I'm done. I'm beyond over egotistical lumps of being who are not self aware - who must have been placed on this earth to test my patience (which I am severely lacking anyway). I know I should be saying, "thank you," for this lesson - and perhaps I will one day... But right now, I need to vent.

{{interject flashback scene}}

When I made the decision to partake in lesson # (I lost count) and remarry for the second time & up and move to Atlanta, I placed myself in a spiralling state of depression. [see how I took ownership there? be proud.]

I had moved away from all my family, friends, job... and ended up being dumped (for the most part) alone in a huge city with only my children (which is added responsibility and stress, considering I had zero help in raising them while there). Don't worry, I'm not going to get into the details of the failing marriage, but all of this didn't help the deteriorating friendship this post is about.

{{flashback within a flashback}}

My Former Friend was an amazing one... friend, that is. At one point. We were mutual friends of Husband#2, and we both happened to work at the hospital. It was a travesty if we missed our daily lunches together - that's how tight we were. She was just getting into her photography at the time, and I, being an artistic junkie, jumped right in as her daring model. We definitely had a time!

If I had to pin-point a starting point of our decline, I would say it was when I got my own "good" camera - which my Former Friend was quick to point out was an "amateur camera with Just a kit lens". [Gee... I have no idea why we didn't remain friends]

I remember pushing Former Friend to quit her "real" job and follow her passion. I recall the conversations as if they were yesterday: I raved about her work, recommended her to everyone that asked, and encouraged her all the way. And clearly, in doing so, heaved her onto that pedestal she so pompously sits upon now.

{{flashforward, back to Atlanta}}

The distance eroded the thread that was left binding our friendship. In an attempt to salvage it, I sent Former Friend a message via The Book. I told her how I felt we were becoming more and more like "FaceBook Friends" instead of actual friends. I explained how hurt I felt when I could see that she was commenting on everyone else's photos but never mine (cause The Book lets you do that, ya know). And, being a fellow photographer (and friend?), her opinion was one of the ones I wanted to hear the most. I told her I was trying to address the issue head on, instead of letting it fester inside, building resentment for something that perhaps she didn't even realize was happening.

All the while, in the back of my mind was playing, "How is it I am still encouraging her, yet she can't find the time or consideration to do the same for me??"

What was Former Friend's response to my message??

She turned it on ME! She snapped back how appauled she was that I would say such a thing; how hurt she was that I felt that way. Former Friend was just way too busy to comment on anyone's photos, not just mine. Lie. I pointed out that I could SEE her commenting on other friends' photos [Remember that whole "FaceBook lets you see others' activity"?? yeah... Just checking...] I got a "Maybe you should just tell me when you post something and you want me to comment on it."

wow.

Seriously?!

some friend.

{{fastforward}}

I got myself out of the spiral and moved back to MS. The awkwardness was still an elephant, but I tried to play it off as merely being in my head. I got in touch with Former Friend, hoping to find our way back to where we were before. I lent her a lot of my crochet hats etc. for a baby shoot she was getting ready to do as a sort of peace offering. [mistake / lesson]

{{fastforward}}

Soon after I took some photos of my mother, who is a true artist, in every sense of the word. I used an idea I had told Former Friend over a year ago - something I wanted her to shoot of ME for my headshot on my art website. I notified Former Friend (as instructed) to take a look at my photography. She made a simple "I like." comment on one of the shots in the album.

And then one of her friends she actually likes commented, accusing me of stealing the idea from Former Friend. <----and, yes, she referred to her by her full name.

Well, my family is like me: You can do what you want to me, but don't treat my family wrong. And so started the battle of words and wit between Former Friend's friend, my brother, me, and my mother. Former Friend didn't comment further on the photo, except to defend her other friend from my brother's comments. She did, however, text me in private about it - to which I pointed out she obviously agreed that I stole my own idea from her, since she didn't defend her other friend, you know: ME.

I ended up deleting the whole mess, as I hated that a picture that was supposed to be a showcase of my work and my mother was being turned into a battlefield.

---- and that's where the friendship ended ----

{{present day}}

My mother took it upon herself to get the loaned crochet items back from Former Friend. She sent her a message or text requesting she drop them off at her house. It was back and forth about how Former Friend was too busy being above everyone else to come by and give back the items she borrowed - with a hint of my mother explaining, usually you are responsible for the return when you borrow something.

Finally Former Friend wrote to my mother:

"Seriously? Isn't it also the responsibility of the person they belong to answer emails and messages when the person who borrowed them tries to give them back? Instead of her mother contacting the person? Why don't you just have Camille contact me. We'll work it out."

Honestly, I thought with the current state of our un-friendship, a neutral party was more kosher than dredging up old laundry.... So much for that idea.

And, for the record, I had already tried to get my belongings back on my own. Former Friend was way to busy to meet me or return them. I was continually instructed to call and see when it was convenient for Former Friend to be at her house so I could go out of my way to come by there and collect them.

-------------------------------------------

All that being said, I leave you with this:

"Be more concerned with your character than your reputation, because your character is what you really are, while your reputation is merely what others think you are."

- John Wooden

Granted, my character isn't crystal at this very moment, but I freely admit I'm constantly workin on that. Besides, sometimes you just gotta blog it out... and then let it go.

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

It's official...

I'm old.

My lil' man starts.... KINDERGARTEN tomorrow!! I can't believe how quickly time flies by these days. I swear I just posted something in here yesterday, but alas... It was in July! So I definitely need an update - as per one of my two readers' request.

So back to my youth slipping away and into my youngins...

Yesterday was Meet the Teacher night. I warned Gabi before we got there that we would be visiting Christian's classes first, as this was his VERY FIRST experience with the whole thing. Gabi, like the big 2nd grader she now is, smiled and said, "okay."

Christian was very excited - but soon realized there wasn't much to Meet the Teacher night. He said a quick, "hey," to his new teachers and promptly asked if he could play with the toys. [sigh. boys.]

A few kids started to trickle in, and I tried to get Christian interested in meeting his classmates, but you know how absorbing dinosaurs are...... he threw them the same, "hey," he gave the teachers (still with no eye contact), never skipping a beat - or a dino bite.

I've noticed Christian's the type that can hang with anyone. He'll just walk right up and say, "Hey! Can I play with you?" He doesn't seem intimidated at all; he'll ask a 10 year old to play.

My Gabi, on the other hand....

She's my shy gal. She sat by herself and played with the mini doll house while we did the meet & greet with Christian's class. While it was time to meet her teacher and "friends," she stayed to herself, too. She found a puzzle of the US and quietly worked on it solo.

When I told Gabi there was a girl she actually knew in her class (who had been in the same kindergarten room with her), she finally perked up and actually wanted to speak to her. Unfortunately, though, the little girl and her parents didn't remember us. :(

My poor Gooby....

I'm eager to see if my little ones switch roles as they get older, like my sister & I did.

Hmmmm....

Thursday, July 22, 2010

TAG! You're it!!

It wasn't until after lunch today that I went to the bathroom. And while checkin the back of my outfit in the mirror (to make sure my tag was tucked in my shirt), I noticed another tag.... I had left the dad-gum price tag on my new skirt! And it had been there ALL MORNING LONG!! Just a hangin' on my butt.

Nice.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

fəˈtɒgrəfə

An acquaintance posted on her facebook status recently, "Who isn't a photographer.... geez.... I mean really.... It means nothing any more." Of course the poster is a photographer, and I admit she has a great eye. I think she has boo-coos of talent. She's also taught me a lot of what I know in Photoshop. But it's this type of mentality that drives me crazy...

So what is it that bothers "professional" photographers so much? Why do they even care if Joe Blow wants to pick up a camera and put his spin on the craft and call himself a photographer? I mean, if they think the amateurs are lacking in talent, then what threat do they really pose? Be glad they suck; it's an up for you if they do!

I'm sure some will say that these "amateurs" are ruining what it means to be a photographer - or something like that. But I just don't get it. I'm an artist - in a vast sense of the word - but who am I to declare that someone else isn't an artist because they don't paint the same style as I? - or because their work isn't as "good" as mine?

Is Picasso less of an artist for the weird style that typically comes to mind when we think of the man? I'm sure the people of his time thought so, but look at his work now...

The irony to me is, this girl's sister is an artist (she paints abstracts). But don't you know she'd defend her sister's gift if anyone called her anything but! Do you think she'd agree her sister is less of an artist because she just does abstracts??

I talked about this with my brother and bro-in-law, and I'm the first to admit I'm probably taking this comment too personally. I mean, look at me: I've already called myself an artist, and I consider myself a photographer, as well. Sure, I don't make my living at it; I don't have the most expensive camera; I don't even have lights and all that fancy equipment. But what I do have is an artist's eye, and I think I produce quality work (and if I don't take a truly amazing picture, I bet I can Photoshop the crap out of it and make it cool! haha). ;)

What I'm saying is:

What makes a photographer (or artist, or graphic designer, or any profession/hobby, for that matter)?? Does it state somewhere in the manual that a gazillion of dollars be spent on equipment to qualify? Because all I see in the dictionary is:

photographer [fəˈtɒgrəfə]
n
(Business / Professions) a person who takes photographs, either as a hobby or a profession

Saturday, June 12, 2010

There's Always Next Time

After a long day of work in "Put on Your Happy Face" Hell, I made the mistake of trying to take a little cat nap on the couch...

It didn't help that I stayed out at the karaoke bar with a good friend of mine and her crew til 1AM and had to get up at 8AM (princess needs her beauty sleep), but it was so worth it. I didn't actually brave the stage, but I wish I had. It took me so long to decide on a song that I actually knew most of the lyrics to that the KJ never got around to calling me out in front of everyone - er- I mean, calling me up on stage. I really, really didn't want to look like one of those girls. You know the ones: they look like they've had far more than one too many and stumbled up on stage only to create a sound dogs would howl to. Yeah. Those girls. I don't make a habit of singing in front of anyone except my kids, and they know no better (yet).

I also did lots of heavy lifting and cleaning prior to this outing last night, as I was on setup duty at work. And this cleaning/setup process takes a few HOURS to do.

All that is just to let you know the state my body and mind were in today after a long three days of peppiness and some manual labor. My body finally told ME to take a nap. And nap I did.

...or tried.

Sure, I could have gone in my own little room and taken a nap. But the couch was so inviting, and should my mind not let me fall asleep, there's the TV right there to entertain and possibly bore me into slumber land.

I didn't even spell REM before wonderful Husband#2 and his buddy come crashing through the door to the apartment. Clearly a blind man could see I was asleep on the couch, but did Mr. Wonderful make any attempt to keep it down?? Of course not. That would be decent of him. Oh, no, he started banging things around, turning on all the lights (because you know how dark it is at 4 in the afternoon), and talking above a normal volume.

Did he at least apologize?? -you ask.

No. HIS FRIEND, however, felt a twinge of guilt or decency and apologized for him. My sister, upon hearing this, asked if my response to his friend was, "You see why I'm divorcing him, right?" Unfortunately, in my groggy state, I didn't. Dang it.

Next time (and I'm sure there will be a next time) I'll have my ammo ready.