Idiosycratic Life

It’s that time of year again….

Time for yearbooks and “Always remember the fun we had in speech class” and “Never change” and awkward messages from people who don’t understand the proper use of “your” and “you’re” and proms and These-Are-The-Times-You-Look-Wonderful-Tonight-One-Twice-Three-Times-A-Lady-In-Red and the strictly mandatory marching band performances at the VFW where you discover a truly frightening Snapple bottle with a 1/2-inch sedimentary puddle of ice tea that’s probably been rolling around the bottom of your uniform bag since last November and last high school sports games and the grad gown/choir gown change-off between “Pomp and Circumstance” with 56 repeats and index flash cards for finals…. And how is it, as I sit cross-legged in the wet grass with a 300mm lens in my lap, that, really- nothing seems to change? And, seriously, is there enough money in the world that would ever make me do this again for myself?

I don’t f*cking think so. :)