The Gurly Life

The annular eclipse

On May 20, 2012, we had an annular eclipse. They call it that because of the way the sun looks, it's just a ring of light around the dark moon. Here in So Cal it was not a full eclipse. I remembered at the last minute, when I saw the light turn weird. I ran up to the roof and took some photos.

Perhaps if I'd been more on top of things, I would have traveled to the Amazon and made a big show of it to some primitive jungle tribe (are there even any left?) and made them think I was a god. That would have been fun, other than the really bad mosquito bites, the leeches, spiders the size of my head, and probably dystentery. But hey, what's a little stomach trouble compared to divinity?

Bare assed like a monkey

Sigh.

Yes, I'm talking about me. You may recall my shameful and detailed experience at the doctor's office over a decade ago for a sigmoidoscopy. It appears that karma has chosen for me to be bare-assed when I have something medical going on, and there are interns or students to be educated. I assume in a past life I was an ass to interns and students, or called students and interns asses, or I was just a harasser and would smack them on the ass, I don't know. Your guess is as good as mine.

Today I had PT for my hip. It's still going on, but the hip is improving, slowly, but improving, so this is a good thing. One of the issues that I'm having is that all the muscles starting from my lumbar spine through my SI joint, ass, hip and thigh tend to bunch up and get really tight. This slows down the healing. No, this prevents the healing.

The last couple of sessions have involved some very serious deep PT to unclench all the clenchiness. Did I mention that the muscles that bunch up and tighten include the ass muscles? I think you know where this is going, but I'm going to say it anyway. Part of today's PT involved unclenching my ass muscles. This required at least one of my butt cheeks to be fully exposed, oiled up, and dug into with enthusiasm. I dare not imagine the visual.

However, Johnny, the really cute intern who was observing our session, did not need to imagine the visual, as he was privy to the whole spectacle from his seat in the very front row. Well, at least he didn't get a seat and had to remain standing, which was sufficiently respectful to my ass. Come to think of it, all those med students at the sigmoidoscopy remained standing as well.

All rise, the Honorable Assy McButtersons presiding.

Red flowers

I went to Griffith Park on Sunday to sun myself, in a desperate attempt to hang on to my tan from Hawaii. Between Los Feliz Boulevard and the park, Vermont Avenue is split and there's a wide grassy area in the middle with trees. Currently some of the trees have almost no leaves but a plethora of bright red flowers. Visually they're quite striking. I attempted to capture some of the interesting visuals. I didn't have much time so I probably did not exhaust the possibilities, but here you go.

I dig this photo

And I don't care if I'm the only one.

Accomodatingwha--?

In the last few months I have been dating a tiny bit more than I normally do. Predictably I learned a few things. And no, not that I'm an introverted misanthrope, that's not news to anyone, least of all me. You might remember my recent 5:30 a.m. ephiphany, wherein I realized that I fantasize about relationships going wrong -- you'll be relieved to know that I've been consciously steering away from such nonsense.

Back to the point: in my dating adventures I have become aware that I'm not a very accomodating person. As Deirdre observed when I informed her of my self-revelation, "No, it's not your strong suit." Hahahaha! Damn right it's not. I do make an effort, and I manage it with friends to some degree, though there is definitely room for improvement.

Anyway. Accomodating. Right. I have been dating a man who is accomodating but who is not in any way a doormat. Which is what made me realize how unaccomodating I am, and how I have a hard time hitting a comfortable middle ground. And by comfortable I mean comfortable for him, too. I'm working on it now.

The other thing that I'm realizing is that I like moving forward at an absolutely glacial pace, although in this context "moving forward" is a figure of speech. Think of the slowest sloth in the world moving through molasses in winter, slow that down a bit, and that's what I'm comfortable with. I think it's because I'm terrified by the idea of ending up with the wrong guy (again!) and wasting more years of my life until I finally realize I don't want to be with that person. So my early response to someone who likes me and wants to see me often is revulsion. I see everything that is wrong with them, whether it's real or not. But when I move slowly, I have enough time to calm down and evaluate the person more accurately. Well, really, I'm evaluating my reactions for accuracy. I think the slow pace gives me the space I need to strike a good balance being a hardass and giving away the farm: in other words, appropriately accomodating.

A castle in the sky

Today I went to court for a hearing that never was. Definitely worthwhile, I had lunch with a former professor (a favorite professor, the one who is almost single-handedly responsible for my career in public entity lawyering), who is now a judge. And I saw something that I needed to photograph. It took about 20 minutes to get the shot I wanted, but here it is. I just love it.

I'm *this* close to mastery

I have been reading a very interesting book, Quiet: The Power Of Introverts In A World That Won't Stop Talking. I was reminded that mastery, in any field, takes about 10,000 hours of focused practice. Give or take. If I did nothing but take and edit photos 24/7, it would take 416.66 days to do 10,000. This doesn't sound like too much time, but if I break it down realistically, it's kinda a lot of time. If I even averaged 4 hours a week (and that's generous, I don't get to this every week), it would take 2,500 weeks. That's roughly 48 years. HAHAHAHAHA! OHMYGOD that's funny. Feel free to check my math, by the way, I'm usually wrong.

I've been taking photographs for at least a couple of decades, with varying degrees of commitment, but did not truly get intentional about it until about 3 or 4 years ago. So, discounting much of the time before the last 3 years, I would say I have about 9,500 hours till I reach the mastery level, only about 45 and a half years. Woo hoo, I can almost taste it! Hahahahaha!

In other words, practice practice practice. For the next 100 years, more like. Good thing I have a long life expectancy.

Meanwhile, here are a few downtown LA/Chinatown photos. You can see the whole Flickr set here (set is only 15 pics).

Incidentally, I did the same calculation for lawyering. If I calculate 40 hour weeks, 50 weeks a year, it only takes 5 years to master the law. Which, frankly, is nonsense, it takes about 3 or 4 times that long. I hope photography is not the same, otherwise I will need a life expectancy of 300 years or so.

Sunset from Haleakala

Here's the slideshow. We were here.

 

 

Pedis!

On our first vacation day, we treated ourselves to nail beautification. Willow and I got pedis:

Hana Highway, Part Deux

Last time I drove the Hana Highway, I took one million pics and posted them all. That means I have already taken most of the photographs that I took when I did it again. However, I did try to get slighly different kind of shots than last time, too, and these are the ones I'm showing you. Trust me, there are 6,000 (I exaggerate a little) other pictures of jungle-like vegetation, which I will spare you. There are also lots of goofy pics with my friends Willow and Adam, and those will be forthcoming, too. Meanwhile, I hope you enjoy these. You can see them as a slideshow by going to this link. There are only 17 photos, so I recommend it.