Guess I'll have to supplement my wine addiction for posting and catching up on missed shows via crappy streaming video. Top Chef, check...Grey's, check...The Neil Patrick Harris show (oh, I mean How I Met Your Mother), check...I'm learning what I think is Japanese via Tudo.com. I can now recognize the character for no.
This caught my eye while I was out walking tonight. I climbed up onto a ramp leading into an abandoned building and waited for a car to pass by. I felt like a little kid with a snowball in my hand waiting to pelt it at an oncoming car and then run and hide.
What, am I the only one that did that as a child?
What I find interesting while walking the streets of my neighborhood is how safe I actually feel. I have a large camera in my hand mounted to a tripod and I'm just walking past homeless people down dark alley ways and deserted parks. I don't even look behind me while setting up a shot, I just trust that I won't be hurt. It's funny because I would have never felt that way in the city before I lived in Los Angeles. I know it's a false sense of security, but I feel like if it's my time then I can't do anything to stop it. Everyday should be a good day to die.
I've been fascinated with photo booths lately. I'm not the biggest fan of this photo technically, but I'm glad I now know why. There is no way to draw the eye through the shot. It becomes stuck, there is no flow. Then again, maybe that's what I like about it. You are sucked in and there is no way out.
I did a big loop around the hill, taking Pike down then the big Denny hill up. I've been a lazy ass lately. Haven't hiked in who knows how long, hardly move from the couch, don't walk in the city any more. I take the elevator up three floors to my office. I figured the hill would do me some good and boy did it ever. I was huffing by the time I got to my house. Time to start running again.
Man, I hate running