Not Even Me
I ran across a batch of negatives and contact sheets that I'd taken in the seventies during the period we were doing a magazine at the Rip Off Press. Hence the photographs these last couple of entries.
I've created a monitor profile with the MonacoOPTIX hardware and software I received last Friday. I have no idea yet if it's made a difference, since I've been futzing with black and white, but I'll know soon enough once I've had some time to make comparisons. The second software package, Photo Mechanic, seems to have arrived without the serial number required to unlock it once it's been installed. I've sent them an email wondering how I might go about finding it. I suspect my email won't be their first. Techie intuition.
This is Saturday night, my night for Asian soaps. I will watch the soaps and forget about processing film. Tomorrow I'll spend the late morning at the office and prepare for this coming reorganization. Life in the fast lane.
Here in Oakland?
Why yes, come to think of it, here in Oakland.
Sunday. A morning spent at the office after breakfast down the way (at the usual cafe), a long lunch at PCB with a fellow employee who was rolling out some sort of ebusiness application on a Sunday morning: just me, my ebusiness compatriot and our mutual friend Mr. Guinness. Not a bad way to spend a Sunday. My futzing around at the office didn't resolve any of the issues I was there to resolve, but what the hell, lunch was excellent. Self does not complain. Self is here now in the late afternoon, the sun shining, the air hovering within a degree of California cool fall weather perfect. One does not complain about California cool fall weather perfect.
Not even you, doodle-dee-do?
Not even me, deedle-dee-dee.