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San Francisco Gay Pride Parade

July 29th, 2006

To Be Eating
Sunday. I'm too sensitive about feeling like crap on any given day. Yesterday was one of those days where all I wanted was to crawl into bed and nod out in the white noise so, naturally, I rented two movies, got myself comfortable in a chair, opened a large bottle of diet Coke, a package of caramel corn and nodded out on subtitled Chinese movies for four hours. Five hours. I attempted to watch my Japanese soaps later in the evening on channel 26 but, with the exception of the samurai epic, they were hopeless. They are made, I finally realize, for children under the age of twelve. Under the age of ten. Morality plays to turn them into good ‘never make a wave’ Japanese citizens. Which can be interesting, I suppose, for their 1984-ish edges, but ultimately depressing to old guys sitting in a chair drinking diet Coke and eating candy popcorn. Still, Japanese soaps aside, what's so bad about vegging out on a long slow Saturday: a couple of movies and an early evening moment of insight? Nothing I care to argue about.

Who's arguing? You're the only one talking.

True. One of the traps of writing a journal. The only voice you hear is your own. Sometimes there are echoes, questions from the aether, but mostly it's a solo trip practiced with a bottle of diet Coke and a package of popcorn at your side unless it's a bottle of sake and plate of Stilton or a bottle of beer and a bucket of chicken.

And today, Sunday?

Not much different. Returned yesterday's movies. Breakfast at the usual place. A bus ride downtown where I did little more than go by the office and order photography books from Amazon online. Something I could have done without leaving the apartment. A thought or two about taking pictures.

Emmy went in for her annual physical yesterday but without apparent damage. A suggestion from the vet I change her diet to attack the tartar that's building up on her teeth. If the new tartar control cat food doesn't work then back to the vet for a teeth cleaning. I've wondered about this teeth cleaning business as they put your cat under to do it as if she were having an operation. Put your cat under to have her teeth cleaned? Four hundred, six hundred bucks? I've solicited opinions from my cat owner friends. Some have their cats done regularly, some buckle down and brush the teeth themselves, some feed their cats a special diet. The vet said try the special diet. I'm trying the special diet, a dry food that Ms. Emmy seems to be eating. Here in Oakland.

The photograph was taken at the San Francisco Gay Pride Parade with a Nikon D2x mounted with a 70-200mm 2.8 Nikkor VR lens at 1/350th, f 2.8, ISO 100.