I'm a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad blogger.

Perhaps posting on here more would alleviate the intense boredom I feel at work when I have no more projects to work on.

But as someone who wants the emphasis to be on photos, it's hard to take pictures when you spend 9 hours a day in a cubicle. And you can't take a picture of a phone call complaining of alien abductions and all the things that they involve (read: anal probes).

So I have to reaffirm my promise to post here daily. Even if no one reads this. Even if nothing remotely visually interesting happened and warranted I pull out my camera.

I want to be more like David Sedaris. Or Amy Sedaris. I'm not picky about which Sedaris sibling I get to be. I want to revel in the minutia and the absurd. Writing daily is a necessity and a habit, nay, an addiction I must form.

My aspiration to seem more Sedaris-like comes from having recently finished When You Are Engulfed in Flames, which I highly recommend. A portion of my next paycheck will go Me Talk Pretty One Day, or perhaps a different work of his. Originally, I purchased When You Are Engulfed in Flames for the cover jacket art: Van Gogh's "Skull of a Skeleton with Burning Cigarette."

That painting used to fascinate me as a child. I first examined it at Van Gogh's Van Goghs, an oddly titled exhibition at the National Gallery which I saw when I was 7 or 8. As most skeletons did, the painting scared me. Yet I proudly declared to my family on the way to the museum gift shop that it was my favorite.

Once in the gift shop I begged my mom for a miniature jig-saw puzzle of one of Van Gogh's more tepid country scenes. Why that puzzle? It took me 20 minutes to solve it and was later discarded. The only thing that did stick with me is the skeleton.

Why is the ladies' restroom at work covered in butterfly stickers? They dart across the mirror above the sinks and even flutter onto stall doors. A piece of floral printed wall paper covers one of the paper towel dispensers and a bottle of communal hand lotion (with the words "TO SHARE!" written on it) smells as springtime fresh as the wall paper looks. Seriously?

Apparently, someone decided that females, with our delicate sensibilities couldn't handle the ugly banality of an unadorned restroom? Not cool, sticker freak, not cool.

Things I've bought that I love

I realize that 2 out of 3 of these items are shoes. However, they are both cute, practical, and worthy of my obsession. I further redeem myself with the third item, Kitchen Confidential, which gets better and better with each page. Bourdain and I are kindred spirits (as evidenced by his chapter titles), even though only one of us displays any legitimate culinary skills.

I am currently eating up Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential, lamenting that I will never be a chef. I wish all people could be lucky enough to be so innately suited for something as Bourdain is for cooking. Sadly, stories about accounting and insurance sales wouldn't inspire memoirs as much.

I purchased an easel, no more excuses for not painting. As much as I admire Chuck Close's self examination, I don't want to paint myself. I'd rather examine someone else. Perhaps the old man next door who never changes out of pajamas? Or maybe painting from photographs is in order.

My favorite rhyme:

In the parlour there were three,

the maid, the parlour lamp and he,

two is company without a doubt,

and so the knowing lamp went out.

Autographs. Continued.

One of my favorites because of the delicate illustrations and witty rhymes. The quality preservation of the pages lends itself to a second installment tomorrow.

LOVE LOVE LOVE

"Lover,

Three of the same word, that always brings you instantly to mind, seems tellingly appropriate on our one and only Valentine's Day as two lovers engaged to be married. Do we get just one? And, oh, how shot through with love for you am I! You may be far away in beautiful St. Lucia, but an amorous bond such as ours shall nearly effortlessly carry us forward to a splendiforous reuniting.

Loving you always, Jeffrey"

I found that note in a used book of Andy Warhol's romance illustrations, aptly titled LOVE LOVE LOVE.

I sent the book, and the note onward as a birthday gift. But I jotted down the note for safekeeping and later rediscovery.

Those little booties break my heart. My dog, Buster, breaks my heart in the best way possible.

Sometimes I need a reminder

"I just look around and see the things people have accomplished, and we're pretty cool.

everything:

the empire state building

math

Casablanca

baseball

paradise lost.

I'm just saying, for being 80 percent water, people have done a lot of admirable things."

I found some Easter Island heads (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moai) at my desk at work.
They provided the perfect opportunity to play with the variety of lenses that came with my work camera. Also, internet access was down.

Summer goals update

today I have successfully hiked one of the toughest trails in Mt. Charleston. Mary Jane Falls, some gorgeous stuff right there. I thought mayhaps black & white would better reveal the details of the landscape.

I haven't seen any movies on the AFI list, haven't photographed any portraits, nor have I started painting. The painting is on hold for the lack of an easel and subject matter.

I have read through some of my book list though. I continually add more to plow through. At the end of the summer I'll tally up all the books I've read.

And I've only hollered at the moon by myself. Buzz Aldrin was notably absent .

What a terrible blogger I am. I should post more often. I should take more pictures.

First Friday. It was an experimental excursion in people watching. Hipsters and angsty goth kids milled around looking detached. Where are all these alternative people during the daylight hours of the rest of the month? I only see the suburbanites and the occasional fat elvis.

later we left the arts district for fremont street, which can only be appreciated ironically, drunkenly, or both. The scene was saddening. Middle aged men ogled aging go-go dancers. Another old man with suspect hygiene cut me in line at Walgreen's because he desperately needed menthols and a lighter. A paltry 70's cover band on the street churned out a paltry version of 'Reelin in the years'

I think my friend Rhyanne summed up the evening best, "God, this town really was built on losers"

I had an interesting first day of work at the public affairs department.

Hopefully the actual work will pick up soon, and I will be able to write some interesting stories.

I'm also planning on submitting a photo to the Washington Post 2010 travel photo contest. We'll see how successful that is, but it couldn't hurt right?