With misgivings and deap-seated fears, Jen and I set out for Hell—I mean, the mall, on Friday night. We didn’t actually buy anything, as I had to medicate her after a particularly long day (i.e. cellphone calls in the parking lot at 9pm) but after a delicious meal, all was good. We returned on Saturday to walk among the teeming millions, finding the majority of our gifts at the Target. Love that store. Sunday was spent finishing up a lot of last-minute ideas and following up on the few people we hadn’t chased down to that point. With the exception of Jen and a few other small gifts, we look to be about 90% done with the shopping. We also found that Williams-Sonoma is the centerpoint of the universe- in 15 minutes we met up with four different friends there.
We also got our first look at the new Apple Store up in Towson; it’s very well-designed and was full of people playing with iMacs and iPods. We were both very impressed with the hardware (Jen made an appreciative “ooooooohhh” sound when we looked at the 17′ iMac) and with the store in general.
Here’s to standing up for what you believe in. God bless.
A Hint to You, After a Trip To Smith & Hawken: A few years ago I went crazy and for Christmas bought every woman I knew a paperwhite forcing kit, because I thought they were pretty. It turns out that while they look really pretty, about a week after they bloom they tend to smell like urine. Rancid urine in your house. You have been warned.
Tonight Jen and I are braving the snow and people to begin Round 1 of Us vs. Christmas. We are journeying to the Columbia Mall to seek out interesting, insightful gifts for our loved ones.
Got any suggestions?
Looks like the roads are pretty clear out there, which is a Good Thing. We also got word today that one of our freelance gigs is swinging into gear—good news.
Outside the Port Discovery museum downtown, they have an exhibit featuring a large balloon tethered to a winch. During the summertime, I would drive to and from work watching the balloon rise and fall in the sunshine, filled, no doubt, with happy children enjoying a bird’s eye view of the city. Today on my way to work, by chance I pulled up behind my friend Todd, who pointed out a very limp and deflated balloon covered in snow, huddled over the cold ground outside the museum grounds.
urban paralysis (a social experiment), 12.01
Indeed, I bought the milk, the bread, and the coffee, and lo, the heavens did unload. And yea, verily, we did sit and listen to the Prophets proclaim doom.
The salt truck, representing the taxes I pay to the city, rolled through at 6:20, after the sun went down and the temperature dropped below 20 degrees. Thanks guys.
A really well-designed photography site: boochakanan.
Continuing the trend, it’s Retro Music Tuesday. Save It For Later (The English Beat), Pablo Picasso (The Burning Sensations), Institutionalized (Suicidal Tendencies), Can’t You Hear Me Knocking by the Stones and The Neil Diamond version of Secret Agent Man (Because I can’t find the Plugz anywhere.)
I did not think I could say this, but I fear I am growing close to Thanksgiving Critical Mass—the time when you realize just how sick you’re getting of turkey, stuffing, potatoes, and gravy. I think that my stomach has grown about four grinch-sizes since last Thursday, and hopefully I have gained a few pounds (those that know me understand what a good thing this would be.) Unfortunately, the thought of a huge heaping plate of leftovers is beginning to provoke the gag reflex.
So I went to the Target with Jen to look for assorted stuff a few weeks ago, and we found ourselves in the sock-and-underwear section, which is also conspicuously near the hat-and-glove section. I looked through the hats they had there and found a tuque in a lovely green color, and wound up buying it because it’s warm and light and fits my big fat cranium pretty well. To my dismay, Jen has taken to calling me Eminem when I wear it, although I leave the hoodie at home. Today I have it on because it’s 20 freakin’ degrees outside and my office thermostat is set on ‘meat locker’. They are calling for snow tomorrow night, which means the fair city of Baltimore will go mental and buy up all the toilet paper, milk and bread visible. Then they will leave their houses and drive extra-fast to go someplace and crash their cars into each other because the idea of the all-season tire is a foreign concept (and you can’t fit an all-season tire on your super-low-profile racing mags now, can you?)
I began sketching out ideas and a rough storyboard for a narrative I’ve been thinking about last night. I have a basic storyline together and a visual idea for how I’d like the first pages to look, and I’m still working on how to present them in an online format. One of the other problems I’m seeing is how to take pictures of the reference points I’d like; my camera doesn’t have any setting for manual exposure or lighting conditions besides ‘dark’, ‘normal’ and ‘light’. Most of the beginning of the story is set at 3:30am, so it’ll be difficult to get what I need.
Postscript: I read the manual and found a ton of features that I had overlooked before, including the ISO settings, the infinity focus setting, and the digital zoom feature (duh!) I also found the timer function. So I’ll freeze tonight and take a few pictures and see what I get- All may not be lost!
backyard, 12.01
The Thanksgiving feasting is over; the fridge is stuffed with Tupperware and bursting at the seams. All was successful with the meal, and the Meeting Of The Two Families went off without a hitch, thankfully. Everybody had a great time together and we dined in Little Italy. (Rather fitting, given the motif, eh?)
We were also lent the first season of the Sopranos on DVD the day before Thanksgiving, and spent a good portion of the holiday loosening our belts and travelling to North Jersey to peek in on the lives of Tony and his family. I realize I’m about four years behind the curve here, but I have to say this is a fantastic show. Jen and I are totally hooked.
I finally got a sheet of UV glass cut for three gifts my house presented me when I began demolishing the basement: a collection of Tijuana bibles fell from the ceiling over the old bathroom as I tore the tongue and groove down. (Additionally, I was presented with a series of letters to Santa and a series of longshoreman’s pay stubs over the old kitchen sink, a very old and used tampon in the bathroom, and an envelope containing $50 in bills circa 1969 up front in the old closet.) In doing some research on the eight-pagers, I found a link to a book on the subject as well as some other sites. It’s nice to have them framed, finally.