bittersweet week


My plans have been falling through left, right, and center the last few days, near unbelievably so, but there’s been just enough nice to make up for it. I had two shoots this past weekend, one with Mishka and Jim, who wanted engagement photos, headshots, and wedding invitations, and another with Shane for promotional photos for his new website, and I might be spending this upcoming weekend in Seattle, following my dear friends The Mutaytor as they kick off their Pacific Northwest tour. (I was given an iPod touch for the engagement photos, too, which means I NOW HAVE INTERNET IN MY POCKET. So. Exciting!). Good times!

Today I’m processing my photos from the weekend, picking through and polishing, getting into the sort of flow I can get lost in for hours, and writing poetry back and forth with New York. I’ve already finished my first run through the engagement photos and soon I’ll be finished with Shane’s pictures, and then it will be time to start making Valentine’s dinner for my sweetheart, who I look forward to seeing. Things there have been an odd, bohemian mix of blissful and bizarrely unreliable, dotted with both raw adoration and vast misunderstandings, so the prospect of an actual “date” night, though unusual, is somewhat reassuring.

Hey Seattle! Mutaytor’s playing the Neumos on Sunday. It’s going to be a fine good time. Be there!

  • Alice in Wonderland on the iPad
  • The Kids Are Alright, a refreshing review of the iPad.

    Spent an extra day in Seattle yesterday just cleaning, scrubbing the apartment from ceiling to floor, collecting enough cat-hair out of corners to make an eccentric fur coat. My entire body hurt by the end of it. Given Tony’s propensity to neglect his surroundings, even the laundry was a trial, six heavy loads of sheets, towels, blankets, and various miscellany carried wet up two flights of stairs, left hanging to dry in the windows and on doors, the better to save quarters from the dryer.

    My place, thankfully, isn’t half as bad, but even so, I can’t imagine what could inspire me to put that much concentrated effort into my own place in Vancouver. I tend to let dishes sit a few days, clutter tends to obscure my shelves, and my carpet only appears whole and intact for sporadic patches of time, generally short. Cleaning my room takes about a week, as I tidy in small doses, multitasking my way through various chores until I’ve crossed enough off the to-do list that I can take a break without guilt.

    In this case, it was the imminent possibility of fourteen (splendid) houseguests descending all at once, as my friends, the Mutaytor, only found out last minute that Neumos, their Sunday night venue in Seattle, isn’t going to cover a hotel. They found alternate crash space, thankfully, as I suspected they might, but as excellent excuses go for a hard day of spring cleaning, I can’t think of anything better, except maybe a suprise visit from the Queen.