Sunday, December 30, 2001

OK. This will be fast as I am supposed to be driving to Boston to see the lovely boyfriend for New Years and as usual, I can't seem to get out the door. i had already written something, but then I accidentally closed the window which is supremely frustrating! Anyway, I wanted to post something since I have Blogger Guilt. :)

Happy New Year's to all! My 2002 be the year I find a job! (Sheesh... ANY TIME YOU'RE READY, FATE! JUST LET ME KNOW!) I will miss all of you in New York, Chicago and DC, but I will call your cell phones to wish you a Happy New Year! It has been wonderful seeing everyone over the holidays! :)

Perhaps the best gift of Christmas was Gwen's Fighting Amish Puppet, which was given to her by Alissa. It was a big hit at the Gaul celebration, especially with Larry, who said, "Oh my GAWD... Isn't that SOMETHING?" Little did I know as Alissa was searching for it online and going a little nutty trying to find a reputable place online to purchase one, Stephen was selling them all along in the magic shop. Go figure. Well, if anyone else needs a punching puppet (Apparently, they sell the fighting nun, devil, Amish guy and rabbi) you know where to go now. Stephen allegedly likes to make the nun fight with the devil in a battle of good and evil while he stands in the top hat. He works on Wednesday, and I CAN NOT WAIT to see him do his thing. :)

ALRIGHT. Really must be starting my 7.5 hour trip now. Love to you all! Have a safe and happy new year!

Thursday, December 20, 2001

OKay, feeling a little less immature and petty today, so I am going to talk about something else.

I am so tired. TIRED. I have been really busy lately, and I think I am just crashing after all of the stress. Things went fine at the AP and with the wedding photographer, by the way. The wedding photographer is much cooler than I could have hoped for. I am excited to work for her. I think I am going to learn a lot from her. She looked at my portfolio and some work that I did for two recent weddings and said that I need to start charging a minimum of $3, 000 a wedding. I was totally, totally blown away. I am a little bummed that I won't be around on Saturday, which is like the first day that everyone else is around Lancaster, but I will see you guys a lot after that.

Well, I am still at Alissa's house in Philly, so i need to get home and get to work at the shop. More later, bebes. :)

Wednesday, December 19, 2001

Hey y'all... I hope you all got my email and found your way here. Sorry for changing horses midstream, but the most importnat thing for you all to know is that I HATE HARLAN LANDES. He just broke my best friend's heart in the slimiest way imaginable. Frankly, I want to chop off his head and poop down the hole in his neck.

If you feel the same way, I suggest you go to

But lemme tell you how I really feel.

Well, I have come to the shocking discovery that I am not unemployed. I am self-employed. I actually now have my own FedEX account. Scary. I have four jobs, and I have not had a day off in ten days.

Also, I bought a coupon holder. I have a dog, a coupon holder and a FedEX account. Does this mean I am officially a grown up? I don't know. I don't think so. I think I will really be a grown up when I no longer live with my parents.

About that, though.... I have since come to a tentative peace with that. I am so busy working at my four jobs and searching for a fifth and eventually only one that I sometimes go days without seeing them. Also, food just appears in the refrigerator without any expense or effort on my part, which is nice. And someday, God forbid, when my parents are gone, I think I will feel very, very lucky that I had this time with them.

The thing about being self-employed is that I hate charging people for my work. I wish i could just give my work away for free or barter for it. I hate money. It's so hard. But seriously, I have to "get my bitch on," as Best Reporter Ever Michele would say. Seriously, I figured out what I will end up making an hour after all is said and done for this very big job that I am doing for not much money. It works out to $.75 an hour. Frankly, I could make more working for Nike in Indonesia. Of course, I had a childhood, and I can take bathroom breaks whenever I want, so ultimately I have the better deal.

Tomorrow is a scary, scary day where I go to Philadelphia and meet with the senior photo editor of the AP in Philly who will tell me whether i did a good job on my first assignment. He wants to see the entire take, as I mentioned before. For you non-photo types, having someone look at the entire take of your shoot- your contact sheets or negatives or digital thumbnails- is like being naked, whereas showing someone the final edit- which is all cropped and color corrected and dodged and burned- is like wearing your most flattering dress with control top pantyhose. Sorry, men, that illustration may not be too useful for you, but you catch my drift.

Also, I have a meeting with a very big, top notch wedding photographer in Philadelphia who hired me via a friend of mine (who I just realized won a Pulitzer in 1999, which makes him a much more intimidating person- he's not even 30) for this Saturday, and if it goes well, she says she may give me work on a regular basis. I don't even want to be a wedding photographer, (as a career), but she has a fashion background, and I will learn a lot of from working with her, and all of this is making me a much more well-rounded shooter, but she is very scary. I just have a lot of pressure in my life right now. I am working under stressful conditions.

Anyone (that is, Jason) want to go out for drink tomorrow night to either celebrate my survival or drown my sorrows? :)

I will be grateful for the holiday. YAY! All of you lovely Old Friends coming into town. I can't wait to see all of you! I will be out of town this Saturday, but other than that, you can reach me on my cell phone or at home. La la la!

Oh, and there was some confusion about my entry on 12/13/01. Some people read it and interpreted that Stephen and I broke up. But as you probably deduced from the entry on the next day, we are getting along beautifully. The ex-boyfriend I was referring to was the groom of the wedding, an ex from a long time ago. When I said "so-called 'boyfriend' of three years" I meant that if Stephen got lost and didn't show, then people would think I was making him up. When I referred to myself as the "lonely, fat, sad ex-girlfriend," the exgirlfriend status applies to my relationship with the groom. This message has been brought to you by the Clarification Committee. :)

Monday, December 17, 2001

Okay. All is well. The wedding photos do not suck. I am rather proud, to tell you the truth. Stephen did not get lost. He showed up with thirty minutes to spare and met the entire wedding party, including Jon, (and a bunch of Old School Band Friends from way back in the day- Mark Rohrbach, Geoff Boyer, Dave Trendler, etc.) while changing in the bathroom. I am assuming that Stephen was changing in a stall but to be honest I didn't ask for extensive details and given how weirded out I already was I do not want to know. That sentence is begging for commas. Anyway...

I find shooting weddings in general to be rather stressful. Everyone wants the lovely pictures, but they also want to get to the reception asfastashumanlypossible (How e.e. cummings of me) and it takes time to do it right. Everyone was patient at this wedding, but I still feel a bit under the gun about the whole affair. (This goes for all weddings) But anyway.... Heather, Jon's new wife, is a really lovely person, and she went out of her way to be really sweet to me, and invite me to hang out with the bridesmaids, etc. Her friends are a fun bunch, and it was really interesting to see Dave, Geoff and Mark again.

Seeing them opened up a floodgate of memories that I completely forgot about. Do you remember Super Band Rap?

I am going to have a "Sophia" a la Golden Girls moment.

Picture it: Landsivlle, 1993. Mark Rohrbach, wearing a backwards baseball cap and sunglasses leading that Black Knight Marching Band- not one person of color among us- in a "rap" that went "We are the band, the super band,/ We'll blow you right off the map./ We've got the moves,/ We're in the groove,/ doin' the Super Band Rap..." It was pathetic; I'm sorry, but it was. Now, Mark did not do or even mention Super Band Rap. He probably doesn't remember it. But when I was telling Kelly about seeing him, she suddenly remembered it and anyway, this seemed funnier when I was thinking about it before. Also, Jon and Geoff did the "Humpty Dance" at the reception. It was pretty funny. I had completely forgotten about that. They used to do it at like, Band Fun Night and the Halloween party. Anyone else remember? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

It was nice to be an old friend's wedding and feel like they were doing the right thing. They are very obviously in love and right for each other, which is refreshing after going to the scary "train wreck/bad idea" wedding over the summer.

Anyway, the very best thing about the reception was being with Stephen. We mostly made fun of the Overtly Sexual Couple, (people we don't know) consisting of Inappropriate Dress Girl (I swear, it looked like she just wrapped a sparkly --spaaaahkly-- napkin around herself) and her Sultry Boyfriend. You know the couple. There's one at every wedding. They made out all over the dance floor, and mouthed the words to "Angel Eyes" to each other, and he danced with one arm around her with a hand on her butt, and one arm hanging down at his side like he was about to grab a gun out of a holster if anyone got too close to Inapppropriate Dress Girl. Stephen kept imitating Sultry Boyfriend and saying "I am.... El Hombre!" (You really have to hear/see him do it). Definitely a Pirates of Penzance Moment.

I get the feeling that this entry is not nearly as entertaining to anyone else but me. The upshot is, I was worried about nothing. As usual.

Which reminds me, I did my first AP assignment today. It went well. I spent a lot of time with the subjects. It was a really good story. I am going into the office in Philly for a critique on my shooting, which is nerve-wrecking, especially because I encountered some technical difficulties. But all in all, I did my best, and hopefully that will be recognized. I am worried about my critique, but- like I just said, I usually worry over nothing. However, I worked nonstop for eleven hours today (AP shooting and then some freelance stuff) and I am exhausted. Goin' to bed.

Thursday, December 13, 2001


This is not good. What if they think the photos I take suck? What if... and this is a very real possibility... that Stephen gets lost on the back roads he needs to take through East Bumblefreak to get to the church and he doesn't show up and I sit there all alone, fat, and sad while his friends and relatives laugh about the lonely, fat, sad ex-girlfriend peering anxiously at the door for the so-called "boyfriend" of three years to show up. OH MY GAWD.

Whew... That little melodrama aside, I have to tell you about a Traumatic Fish Incident. This is bad, but it has a happy ending.

It is not as traumatic as the famous Traumatic Fish Incident of 1987 in which both Amanda and I won fish at the Mountville Fun Fest (We went there because my mom was a teachers' aide at Mountville when i was in first and second grade), and I was sitting in the hatchback of my mom's old red "Tahete" Datsun, and as I was talking to Amanda and Brad Plotner who were sitting in teh backseat, Amanda leaned back and popped my fish bag. The fish flopped around on the seat, Amanda was screaming and nearly jumping (literally) out of the open window of the car (We were stopped at the stoplight by Hadyn Zug's), my mom thought one of us was dying, and Brad, being my Personal Hero for Fish Bravery and Other Things, calmly picked up my fish, opened Amanda's fish bag and put mine in with hers, and consequently saved the day. But, as usual, I digress.

The Current Traumatic Fish Incident occurred when Mary Wolstonecraft apparently got too close to our aquarium filter and it tried to suck her up. She was wriggling around for an unknown amount of time when I happened upon the scene. I am pretty brave about things like heights and scary bugs, but the thought of reaching in and physically pulling her away from the sucking filter creeped me out, so I tried unplugging the filter. She didn't come out. So I tried to shake her loose. Bad idea. Mary Wolstonecraft became more hysterical. Then I realized that I still heard the filter whirring, and realized that I had unplugged Senor Tortuga's filter and not the fish tank's filter. I unplugged it, and she plopped out and back into the tank. She was a little wonky all day yesterday. Her mouth was stuck in a permanent open fish mouth O, but now it's fine.

By the way, Senor Tortuga promptly remounted his filter when it started vibrating again (after I plugged it back in) and continued to make love to it until I left for work.

I pay my humble respects to Shauna, who has the Ultimate Traumatic Fish Incident that I have heard to date, and to the memory of Meatball 1, Gwen and Laura's fish who died in the arms of a miniature Scary Spice doll at the bottom of his aquarium, just before Thanksgiving.
I am sorry, I am sorry. I have certainly not been sounding my barbaric yawp lately, which is supremely unfair to Annie most of all, because she just got her blog up and running and then I don;t even have the decency to write interesting things on my site while she is still on her Blogger Honeymoon. Sigh... AND WHY DON"T ANYONE'S COMMENTS WORK!?!?!

The thing is, my life isn't terribly interesting right now. I go to IU substitute teacher training (tomorrow is the last day, thank goddess) which, frankly, sucks my butt. Then I frantically run errands for a little while before I go to work at Alissa's mom's shop where I "help" people (today I nearly had to give a woman $206 in change because I forgot to put a decimal point between the 2 and the 0), make gift baskets, run errands and run the thin blade of scissors over hundred of feet of curling ribbon, which is actually kind of fun. But it is working in retail over the holidays, and there are like, 500 "Saved by the Bell" episodes of how NOT FUN that can be (Do we all remember the episode where Zach put a $20 bill in the pay phone change slot for the homeless man/father of the girl he liked to find because it was Christmas? Feminist Angie just doesn't know where to begin with that one), but it's fine. Then I come home smelling like scented candles and potpourri and talk a lot on my cell phone to the people who generally read this site, except for Nick with whom I am playing Phone Tag and Scott, to whom I do not talk nearly enough.

Yup, that's about it. However, I did sign a contract to freelance with the AP, which is awesome and may lead to good things all around, AND they gave me my first assignment, which is a real, very cool assignment. The photo editor wants me to drive into Philly early next week, though, so he can critique the shoot, which is fine albeit nerve-wracking, but I figure the more face-to-face, open-to-criticism, eager-to-learn, and enthusiastic-about-this-opportunity time I put in, the better. I AM SO EXCITED!!!! Today, when I called the subject of the story, I actually got to say, "Hi. I am a photojournalist with the Associated Press, and I am calling about a story...." RAH!!!

Jon Hughes is getting married, which is very, very strange for me. Stephen is coming down for the wedding, and I totally can not wait to see him. It's strange, not in a "I'm jealous, it should be me" way, but in a very "You are my first love and it's just plain weird" way. I can't explain it.

I am going to go wrap some Christmas presents. I will write more tomorrow.

Monday, December 03, 2001

By the way, I also got four goldfish for our newly cleaned and improved aquarium. They are named Mary Wollstonecraft, Andrea Dworkin, Susan B. Anthony and bell hooks. Apparently, they are feminist fish.
Today I went to an all-day workshop-- my first of three- to get my emergency substitute teacher certificate for PA. I get there early, ans as I eat my complimentary bagel and drink my shockingly weak coffee, I keep hearing this voice in my head being like, "What are you doing? This isn't what you want! This isn't what you want to do withyour life! These kids are going to Eat. You. Alive. Go! Go now! Go back to bed!"

So I beat the voice back with the Reality Stick, saying "Life isn't fair. You gotta do what you gotta do. You have valuable skills and experiences to offer these kids. You'll be a photojournalist again before you know it. Stay. Stay!" when suddenly I see- two rows in front of me, wearing a sea-foam green blazer, the one, the only- Shannon Edwards. (dunt dunt duh) The xylophone destroying, sexually harassing, scary groping, ultimate high school band geek hanger-on from the class of like, 1992 or 1993, who practically mauled me to death at a Christmas concert in 1998.

This of course sets off a chorus of voices screaming at me to flee! Flee! FLEE THE IU BUILDING! and then I think, "At least this will make a good story for my weblog. Sigh....

Then I came home and made a bunch of job-hunting phone calls. No offers on the table yet.

Sunday, December 02, 2001

I am Snozzleberryland comments. Do I work?

Saturday, December 01, 2001

Hello, all! This will be short as Jason is on his way here so that we can go electronics and puppy shopping, and here I sit in my pajamas. Last night we rented a movie and made s'mores in my fireplace even though it was 60 degrees outside. Yay, Jason! :) We watched Best in Show since Jason is in a very "Gonna Get a Dog" place right now. That movie cracks me up every time.

So... Since Stephen never reads this site, does anyone have any good suggestions for him for Christmas? I was thinking I would get him tickets to a show. Being the stage actor that he is, he doesn't like musicals of the Les Mis variety. I got him to go see the Lion King in London, arguing that Julie Taymor is a genius and that it was a whole new innovative step for theater with teh infusion of puppetry, etc. So New Yorkers, any good "serious" theater suggestions? Is there anything by Tom Stoppard on Broadway right now? I guess I could just go buy a NY Times, but I am open to your suggestions. It's hard thinking of good, creative, fun, romantic gifts for him. This is our fourth Christmas.

I have already given him all the pictures in frames, cologne, boxers type stuff that come with the first year of dating-- the books, CD-ROM games, toys and bizarre things that reflect his interests in the second and third years of dating-- and I have even done the surprise you with romantic trips to Bed and Breakfasts and expensive electronics thing. I was going to try and surprise him with something REALLY big (which I won't say here on the off chance that he is reading this), but I don't know if I can afford it... You see my quandary. I am sure now that I have shot down all of those previous ideas that you all are as stumped as I am. Oh, and past girlfriends have given him the exotic pet- an iguana named Sting- thing, so that's sort of out, too.

Right. Jason is on way. Must. Go. Put. On. Clothes. Shit! Doorbell Ringing.