Thursday. So I called Laguna Seca and asked about my ticket for this weekend.
“This weekend? You're signed up for the Historic sports car race in August and the American LeMans series in October.”
Oh. August. Not tomorrow.
Now, this is not a tragedy. There are one or two questions as to why I'm getting so sloppy with my calendar and I have some thoughts about that (other than age and alcohol addiction or a lack thereof). It does mean I still have a three day weekend that starts tomorrow (because I'm not going to admit to this farcical error at the office, old fart or not) and I can now do pretty much as I please for three whole days. And, you know, I've had some thoughts.
The D2h arrived from Nikon Tuesday and I want to test it. There is no Cinco de Mayo parade this Sunday, but they have a celebration in front of San Francisco City Hall, the destination of the old parade, and I think I'd like to see what it's about. And, although I don't want to develop the fifteen (fucking) rolls of black and white film that are sitting on my kitchen counter, I am (going to develop it) because if I can't get my head to a place where I want to develop my own black and white film, well, I am out of the black and white film business. And I don't want to be out of the black and white film business, what with all the film cameras I've learned to use in my life, many of which are still sitting in my closet.
Well, yes. I shot a bunch of photographs at the Cherry Blossom Festival Sunday. The head still feels funky, but I keep telling myself it feels less funky (I could be imagining this) and my that my energy is higher and I want to get out there and shoot pictures, straighten out artandlife and learn a couple of PhotoShop masking techniques that will make my pictures wonderful (and then after saying this, I sit back, out of breath, and pour myself another drink). Did I mention the pile of frame kits I have sitting in the corner that cry out for photographs?
Boy howdy, you didn't.