Take a glorious bite out of the whole world

I still have more photos that I'm not able to post at this moment. Because I'm at work.

I went out with Tosh last night. We had initially planned on going out to Crave and being ridiculously indulgent, what with the heart-attacks-on-a-bun and the booze milkshakes, but Tosh wasn't hungry. Which worked out well for me! I didn't have to feel like a fatty! We ate at Tokyo Joe's instead. But joy!! They serve booze! So we had a few Mai Tais. Check it out:

I don't know how to make normal faces when people are taking pictures of me, which explains why I look that way.

We went to Good Company afterwards, I drank a bit too much, and I went home about two hours after we got there.

Rocky Mountain National Park 2: Electric Bugaloo!

Nymph Lake, in all its glory! It's not terribly obvious, but I was crouched down right at the lake edge, which was made up of swampy gross. There's another photo where I did the exact same thing. And here it is!

It was wet and smelly, and it squished a lot. But it was well worth it for me. I don't mind getting all gross if I think I'll get something good out of it. Well, truthfully, there are days where I don't mind getting all gross if I'm outdoors, anyway. Sometimes it's really awesome to spend a day outdoors and feel like you're caked in nature-y goodness by the time you get home. The only thing I don't appreciate about it? The swarms of flies and mosquitoes that assume that because I smell like their home, they can just hang out on me whenever they damn well please. That's not a thing, bugs.

I told The (Boy)Friend once that I really love skeletal trees, because they look like bare hearts stripped of muscle, and all you can see are the capillaries and veins. I also think they look fantastic in contrast to a stark blue sky. Which explains why I love this picture so much:

Naked trees like this were everywhere on the way to Emerald Lake. There was a pretty fantastic one right at the edge of Emerald Lake, but I can't remember if I got a decent picture of it. Like I mentioned earlier, the sun was directly above me, and that it made it exceptionally hard to get good pictures.

I have a second picture that goes with this next one, but it's on my computer at home. That does me a fat lot of good, but I'm going to post this picture, anyway. This was the picture I took where I stood in the middle of a waterfall pool that was approximately Cold As Fuck Degrees for ten minutes, doing my best to get the shot. I had planted the tripod in the water, but I was pretty close to the base of the falls I took a picture of, and I was also close to the top of the next cascade, so I was pretty much in a swirling rush of water. The tripod did very little to stabilize the camera. But, all things considered, the photo doesn't look as blurry as I thought it would. I took seven shots of this waterfall trying to get it right. The seventh was the one that finally turned out, and I was so excited to get out of that water. The dipper that was keeping me company didn't mind the water at all, though. He was quite happily dashing it all about himself, fluffing up his feathers and opening his beak in what looked to me like extended yay's of celebration. Such a happy little passerine! I did have to stop and giggle every few moments and talk to him. He was adorable, and I told him so several times.

If you look closely on the log on the very last fall, you can see his little grey blur. This was another area where it was just me, but it was (obviously) not nearly as quiet here. There was the rush of the water, birds chirping, and a delicious breeze rustling the leaves...the best kinds of noises. I loved it.

Once again, I'll have to post more RMNP photos later. But I don't mind. It's keeping me active on my blog again, and I haven't gone out to take pictures since Thursday.

I bought a bag of dried fruit, crystallized ginger, and nuts yesterday. I have now eaten every last almond, hazelnut and walnut, and now I have a half full bag of blueberries, cranberries, cherries, and crystallized ginger. I don't particularly care about those things. I'll probably have them for breakfast tomorrow morning when I get in to work.

Speaking of work, I should probably go do some. I leave here in four hours to go to the gym, and I haven't accomplished very much yet. I did a pretty fucking solid job on my report yesterday (that they thought would take me all weekend, but I'm too efficient to be bogged down by shit like that), and I sort of don't know what to do with myself today. I'll find something.

Like a bad star

Warning: This may be very, very, VERY long. I have lots of things to share, and lots of pictures. I may even break this up into two or three posts. Does that make me considerate? Maybe!

First thing's first...I stopped to get myself some Starbucks this morning, and I decided to pick up another avocado for lunch. It looks and feels like a really, really good one. I bought four rinky-dink avocados about a week ago that felt almost ripe, and I was angry and sad to discover that they were not at all almost ripe. I got to eat one and a half of those avocados (one half of one was absolutely perfect, while the other half was a rock-hard disaster. I didn't understand, but I ate the bottom half, anyway); I was tempted to eat the not-ripe ones out of sheer spite, but decided better against it.

I went to Rocky Mountain National Park on Thursday with Kristen. What adventures did I have, I hear you asking aloud. Oh, there were definitely adventures, because I can't do anything like a normal person. Let's go through them in order, shall we? We'll take a written jaunt through the entire day.

First of all, I beat the traffic into Denver. Yay! I had to leave at 6:20 to do it, but I did it. I got to Kristen's at a little before 8:00. She was running behind, so I sat on her couch while she made sushi rolls for our picnic lunch, because we do picnics with stylish elitism. We hit the road at about 9:00 (I was champing at the bit to leave. I like keeping to a schedule when I'm excited to be somewhere, and I get extremely antsy when I get off schedule), stopped at Whole Foods to grab some drinks and things, and then we were officially on our way at about 9:45. Hooray!! It was a gorgeous drive through the forest and the canyon, and I sort of regretted saying I'd drive, because I couldn't just stare off into the scenery and forget myself. I wasn't following behind anybody, though, so I zipped around all of the turns and sped along the roads. That more than made up for not being able to look around in awe. Kristen was highly displeased, and she kept a firm hand on the Oh, Shit bar.

We stopped on Bear Lake Road where the construction forces your hand into parking or turning around. I grabbed all of my camera equipment, Kristen grabbed the backpack with the goodies, and we set off along the trail next to the river. Kristen thought that if we followed the river, we'd wind up at Bear Lake. This was definitely not the case. We wound up on private property, and all of the cabins were kind of rough looking. I felt like I was in Deliverance, and Kristen kept making banjo noises. We decided to turn around and catch the shuttle to Bear Lake, because neither of us wanted to wind up like Christopher McCandless. Or shot due to trespassing.

There I am, cheesin' it up in the shade, because it was devil ass hot out. Due to the heat, I decided that dipping my legs in the river would cool me down immensely, so I found a nice spot to do just that. I took off my shoes and socks, straddled a tree, and let the freezing cold water do its job. Everything was going swimmingly (FORESHADOWING!) for five or so minutes, and when I felt sufficiently cooled off, I braced myself against the ground, swung my leg around, and totally fucked the landing. Instead, I toppled backwards and made a hole in the river. I slammed up against two rocks, pinched my back between them (I have a nasty bruise on my side), and hollered, because HOLY FUCK GLACIAL RUN OFF IS GOD DAMN COLD. I practically flew out of the water, and managed to only be soaked from my boobs down. Despite hurting myself, this ordeal struck me as positively hilarious. I let my clothes dry out on my car and ran around in a bikini that I thankfully had in my car (well, I didn't actually run around. I just sort of sat in the backseat of my car, laughing at my own clumsiness and stupidity. Of COURSE I was going to fall in to the river. How I didn't realize that when I decided putting my feet in the water needed to happen is beyond me).

After I put my real person clothes back on, we drove up to the campground and got on the shuttle for Bear Lake. Which was a thirty minute drive straight up the mountain. Kristen and I looked at each other and congratulated ourselves on giving up the idea of walking to the lake. Aside from being jostled about, it was a fantastic drive up. We reached the Bear Lake campground, and we watched almost all of the people on the bus with us take the trail toward Bear Lake. Score for me! I had no interest in Bear Lake. I made a beeline to the Emerald Lake trailhead. I had been looking at pictures of spots at Rocky Mountain National Park for quite some time, and this was the one I was most excited about. I was pretty excited about Haiyaha Lake, which forks off about two miles from Dream Lake, but there was absolutely no way that was happening yesterday. I will definitely be going back on my own, when I'm in charge of the pace of the expedition, as soon as possible. Moving on! The trail to Nymph Lake, the very first lake on the trail, was paved, so Kristen made it up to that lake in decent enough time (still excruciatingly slow for my tastes, but nothing could be done about that without me sounding like a complete and total fitness-y asshole that cares not for my friends who are out of shape). We stopped so I could take some photos:

Look at me, arting super hard. And here's the picture I was taking:

Neat!

I took a few more pictures around Nymph Lake (I'm definitely going to break this into two posts. I'll do the second one later tonight after the gym, then dinner with Tosh), Kristen caught her breath and stopped looking so red and close to death, and then we got back on the trail, heading up to Dream Lake. Thankfully, there were lots of trees, so I didn't feel as hot as I had earlier. I love the shade!

I saw a couple hunched over, intently discussing something or other. The girl looked like a young Ms. Frizzle (which truly delighted me), and the fellow looked like a very stereotyped version of a scientist. I didn't pay them much attention other than mild interest in what the people around me are doing, but they do become part of the day later. I deviated from the trail to take some pictures of a ground squirrel dashing to and fro with various edibles (those didn't turn out very well at ALL), and then I wandered even further to take some pictures of a trickle of water on the side of a rock (those didn't turn out well, either). I caught up with Kristen when I had frustrated myself enough because the pictures weren't turning out, and we pressed on. I came up on the couple again, and the woman had her face pressed pretty closely to the rock. I told The (Boy)Friend later that it looked like she was snorting coke. I was very curious about what she was doing, so I asked her. And her answer absolutely made my day. She said, "Oh, we're geologists! We're just inspecting the rocks!" And the nerd in me squealed with glee. My friend Reid is a geologist, but he's in Scotland at school. I don't get to go out and do anything science-y with him. So I got super excited, and asked her all sorts of questions. She showed me the rocks in her eyelet, explained the glacial valley to me (I pretty much knew everything she was telling me, but that didn't stop me from playing the part of her pupil), told me about the Geologist Society Symposium that she and her fellow geologist (I'm pretty damn sure they were a couple, but I never outright asked, and they never stated either way) had recently attended at Garden of the Gods, and then she chatted me up when she saw all of the equipment I was dragging around. I showed her a few of the photos I had taken so far, and she ooh'ed and aah'ed, asked me how long I had been a photographer, how I got into it, etc. Kristen was silent, and looked eager to keep going, so very begrudgingly, I sad my goodbyes, and told them meeting them had made my day. They in turn told me that meeting such a lively photographer made THEIR day, so I left in a cloud of delight. I ran into them several more times, they told me about how they were geocaching, but that this particular version of geocaching wouldn't give you specific coordinates for the treasure until you posted a picture of yourself in the general area and answered a trivia question about where you were. I thought that sounded SO FUCKING COOL, so I promised myself I would go home and get into geocaching plus trivia myself.

When I ran into them at Dream Lake, we saw some fish, and I got to tell them that they were Cutthroats, the state fish of Colorado, and how you're only allowed to catch one per license. I only told them that because they asked what the fish was and I happened to know, but I felt super awesome about it just the same. They watched me set up my camera and take a few shots, and they both expressed how amazing the places they get to see are, and if I was at all science minded, I should change my major and travel the world taking photos of the things I study. I was damn near swayed, and ready to call up the school and demand my major be changed immediately, but then I remembered all of the maths, and I was disappointed at myself for not being brainier.

It was about 4 pm when we got to Dream Lake, so the sun was pretty much at zenith. And I forgot my lens hood. So the photos I was taking at Dream Lake had sun flares, and I felt angry at myself. I had made so sure to have a fully charged battery and an empty SD Card, and all of my lenses (I didn't even use my fifty! Not once!) that I completely spaced my lens hood. Blast! The pictures I took there are mildly salvageable, though. So it's not a total wash.

We left Dream lake and continued up the trail, finally, to Emerald Lake. There's a HUGE glacier that you have to cross to get there, and that was a bit hairy (I almost fell on my way down, but I didn't! One point for me!), but amazingly cool. It's also waterfalls pretty much all the way up. I wanted to get a milky water shot, so I took of my shoes and socks again, put the camera on the tripod, and stood in the middle of the freezing water, taking long exposure after long exposure, desperate to get it right before hypothermia set in. There was a dipper there keeping me company, bobbing his little head and delighting me. I took a picture of him for The (Boy)Friend, who saw a few dippers having a dance party on Friday on his way home. My legs had lost all feeling and were super fucking red by the time I was done. I had been standing in that water for ten minutes. But again, I was cooled down, and the temperature of my body no longer felt like Solar Flare Degrees. Kristen had gone ahead of me (she told me earlier that she knew to keep going if I stopped for pictures, because I would catch up and pass her in no time at all), so I ran up the trail stairs (suck it, Incline. If I can do that hike at a pretty moderate pace, I am SO coming for you), caught up to her, and, as predicted, passed her. And when I reached the lake, I was the only person there. It. Was. Stunning. I can't even explain it, but I was so happy to be there. It was the happiest, most at peace I've felt in over a week. I didn't want to let that feeling go. It was fairly quiet, there was only low whistle as the wind blew over the water. I really, truly felt like I owned the entire world. Kristen caught up with me five minutes later, so I figured I should just take some photos and then sit around and enjoy it.

Exhibit...um...C? D?

Fantastic.

Very suddenly, I realized that I had to pee. Of course I did, I had sucked down a gigantic bottle of water on the two mile hike up. I bolted down the mountain, leaving Kristen behind, because if I didn't, the scene would have been ugly. I made excellent time, though! And I was even more convinced that I can do the Incline without it being a serious deal.

Kristen found her way down, and we sat down together to wait for the shuttle back to my car. There were two young girls behind me, and I heard one of them go, "Oh my god, what IS that?" And my gut turned into a stone. I knew, I knew, I KNEW they were looking at my back, and all I could picture was some gigantic spider, wielding daggers in each leg, poised to shank me and steal everything on my person. However, I'm also super bad about not wanting to look like I'm eavesdropping, so I didn't turn around. I just sat there, frozen and terrified, listening to them chitter and debate on who should warn me that doom was traipsing across my back. It took them a solid three minutes to finally say, "Hey, lady, there's something on your back." Abject terror. I turned around and actually managed to look fairly casual, saying, "Oh? Can you get it off of me?" And then I saw the antennae crest over my shoulder, and I screamed. I screamed like that aforementioned spider had finally started to needle me with his daggers. I stood up, ripped my shirt off, threw it on the ground, and ran around like a fucking maniac, yelling the entire time. I felt like Donna Noble, this huge fucking bug had been sitting on my back, feeding off of my time. And it was gigantic. I could see my shirt moving as it walked out from underneath it. I stopped screaming and looked at it, and then I said, "OH! It's just a beetle! Kristen, hand me my camera." And I took a picture of it. After putting my shirt back on, of course. I felt mortified with myself for behaving like a child. And then I thought about how hilarious that must have looked, and I kept laughing aloud at myself. Not to stave off that weird, embarrassed feeling, but because I genuinely thought it was hysterical. Much like falling into the river earlier that morning.

Here's the last ordeal of the day:

I got onto the shuttle to head back to the car. Kristen and I actually got to sit down this time, and I was beat. I thought that I would rest my eyes for the thirty minute drive down the mountain. I'm sure it would have been a very pleasant nap. Oh, except the window flew open, and my body did its damnedest to fling itself right out after it. The emergency latch on my window hadn't been fastened properly, so I spent the duration of the ride holding the window inside the pane, wishing I had chosen Kristen's seat.

That's pretty much all of the exciting bits of my trip to Rocky Mountain National Park. I'll post some actual photos from the day later this evening, but anything that goes into that post will be purely descriptive.

I'm going to leave the office and head down to the gym for a quick run, then Tosh and I are going to Crave for a dinner that will negate every single workout I've done for the last three weeks. And I can't. Fucking. Wait. I even bought some of that Lactaid Ultra stuff as a precaution, since I haven't eaten dairy in weeks and weeks. I'm fully planning on having the booziest of booze milkshakes, and a big, fat cheeseburger. I'm going to skip the fries, however. Because, obviously, it's for health reasons.

I burn, I burn, I burn

The sky looks brilliant this morning. There's a thick blanket of cirrocumulus clouds, and the sun is positioned right in the middle of them, but in such a way that it looks like the sun has shattered into a hundred fragments, and the pieces are spreading their way across a stunning blue backdrop. The camera is at home, with the battery charging, because I want to be extra sure that I won't go dead on Thursday at RMNP. I attempted to take a photo with my phone, but that didn't turn out well at all.

I meant to go to the gym yesterday, but that didn't happen. I instead sat in an empty parking lot and cried. I determined that going into the gym looking the way I did, with the possibility of bursting into tears again at any moment, was unwise. I did have a great time with Tosh and Ryan last night, however.

I woke up at three am this morning. I had been having such a weirdly pleasant dream, and I was. But it wasn't real, and I couldn't go back to sleep. I'm exhausted now, but I'll survive.

If I take any good pictures at RMNP on Thursday, those will probably be the last thing I post in here for quite some time again. Probably. Since I've been such a weepy mess lately, I thought it might be a good time to try low-light photography (I've always thought emotionally charged low-light photography is incredibly striking), and if I end up trying it and succeeding, I'll post those, too. But I'm a bit overwhelmed, and I'm eyeball deep in apathy. That's no fun, and it makes for incredibly boring posts. I don't want to be boring and no fun.

Have you left a seat for me? Is that such a stretch of the imagination?

I sent a reply email to one  of my very favorite teachers today. I read it back to myself after I sent it, and I was surprised at how grown up I sounded.

I'm having an insanely personal issue, and it's starting to really get in the way of how well I function a good deal of the time. Eesh. It's nothing bad or life threatening or anything, I just...oh, fuck it. I am fiending for sex. Hard. It's driving me to distraction.

Now that I've bitched about that...

I have to take a shower. I wrecked shop at the gym today, and I came home to eat something and then got insanely lazy about taking a shower.

I do have a few of the people pictures I took in Denver to post, but I'm writing this on the tiny laptop, and those are on the big computer. I'll post them later tonight. I'm going to watch Eternal Sunshine, so it won't take too much effort to slap those up here before I do.

Splitting threads of thunder over me

Oh man oh man oh man. This is going to be super long, because I'm explaining my shit day in Denver. But there are pictures at the end, I absolutely promise.

Last night was fucking interesting.

Knowing that traffic on a Friday going north on I-25 is generally hellacious, I decided to leave early for my class. I figured, best case scenario, I would be an hour ahead of the game, and I could go eat at Baja Fresh (because yum!) and generally lounge around 16th Street Mall. Worst case, I'd be right on time (meaning fifteen minutes early).

I got into my car at 3:45, thinking I was so wise, and I was quietly applauding myself and looking forward to eating some Baja Fresh. I plug the address I needed to go to in my Nav, and oh fuck. It says one hour and fifty minutes. I look over at my roommate, who was standing outside smoking a cigarette, and I say, in a panicked and also somewhat defeated voice, "FUCK! My fucking phone says it's going to take me two hours to get there!" And my roommate looks at me, completely nonplussed, and says, "Then you'd better start driving, dude."

Ya think?

Almost the entire first quarter of the trip was in red on my Nav. Balls. Fast forward to thirty minutes later, and I've just passed the Briargate exit (for those of you playing the home game, that's actually only three exits from my house). Everything was bottlenecked because of construction, and I was annoyed. But, I was bopping along anyway, listening to my music and singing (I actually put Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic on my newest music compilation, specifically for The (Boy)Friend, and oh yes. I danced.) and I was in a fairly decent mood, considering my blood was boiling at myself for not leaving thirty minutes sooner. I found myself at a pretty dead stop behind a Cruze (and there's a story about that car later, too! Oh, the adventures I have!), and marveling at how I seemed to be the last person who wanted to leave the Springs, as there was nobody behind me. Until there was. In a major way. I'm looking in my rear-view mirror, and up comes this Hyundai, and the lady driving is just not. paying. attention. I can see her looking around at anything other than the road in front of her, chiefly my car, and I start to freak out a little bit. And right before my freak out ends, she runs into the back of my car. I jerk forward hard enough to knock my head against my steering wheel fairly solidly (Poor, poor me. I have a little goose egg on the side of my head now), but I liken it to throwing a dart at a charging bear. All that did was make me fucking angry. Bonus round: There was NOWHERE to pull over and get her information. All of the construction nonsense had fenced off the shoulders, and traffic was bumper to bumper for miles and miles up the way. I didn't really know what to do, so I just angrily dismissed her with a wave of my hand, because I felt like I was at a loss, and also that I wanted to punch her in her god damn eyes. All I could do was pray that my back bumper wasn't lollygagging behind my car, dragging against the road like some sort of retard. Thankfully it wasn't, and even more thankfully, the damage is incredibly minor. It's cosmetic, so uh, I got lucky, I guess. I tried to get her license plate number, but she trailed behind me super fucking far (no need to be paranoid darling, you won't hit me again if you just pay attention) and made it damn near impossible. By the time there was a place to pull over and SHE stopped holding up more traffic by hiding dozens of feet behind me, I had lost track of her, and I think she took an exit and I missed her. I couldn't pull over and get her info. I still haven't called my insurance company to tell them what happened. I'll have to do that tonight.

Ordeal the first.

Ordeal number two!

I got a parking ticket, because I never learned to read.

At first, I was incredibly frustrated, because I thought the meter said what our meters down here say, which is free parking after 6pm. No no no no, it's very confusing. The price for the meter is much, much smaller and lower on the thing than the big bit that says Overnight parking allowed after 6, and because I am apparently the god damn worst, I was just like, oh, ok! I'm safe here after 6, it's just like Downtown Colorado Springs! Weeeee! Yeah. That's not a fucking thing, and I got walloped with a 200 dollar ticket for my inability to read everything. Initially, I was like, hey, jerkwads, you can't give me a ticket, because this says I was safe to park here! Yeah, and I would have been. Had I paid the 6 dollars. God dammit. So, that was annoying, but totally my own fault. I feel really, really stupid about it now. Mostly because I felt such righteous indignation at something that turned out to be totally my own damn fault. I HATE when that happens.

The class was kind of a bust. I'm disappointed that I paid for it and then didn't learn anything. It was just watching a slideshow of photos, and hearing about, essentially, just using F/16 and 1/60th shutter speed on the lowest ISO possible (which is 100 for me, but I'm not sure if anything else goes lower). I just sort of sat in the back and thought to myself that it was a class based solely on an opinion for what's best rather than technique, or how to make everything work together for different lighting situations. But I got to talk about doing the 365 project, and I gave out a bunch of my cards (I showed them to Kristen later, and she said that my mantis business card is pretentious, and it makes it look like I walk around in blazers and pencil skirts with large glasses and a bitchy face. I was sort of uncomfortable about that, because I...uh...do those things) I was stunned at the amount of people who had cameras far more expensive and fancy than mine, but little to no knowledge on how to use them. I feel like photography is an insanely expensive hobby, and if you're going to shell out three grand for something that you do in your off time, you can probably afford to start off on a lower platform and learn what the fuck you're doing, then build your way up. That's a shitload of power for a novice. Then again, that's probably just my envy talking, because god damn, I want a camera that auto-brackets, and that will cost me at least a grand, twelve hundred if I get it with the lens I want. I'm prattling.

We walked down 16th street and took photos. I was disappointed that I didn't get to stop and take pictures of the chess players, and I vowed to return and do that on a day where someone else has driven me to downtown Denver. We stopped at an orchestral ensemble playing pretty dance-y tunes (I walked up when they were playing I'm No Good, and I very much enjoyed it), and I walked around snapping candids of a few people on dates, one very annoyed looking gentleman, a horse (!), and some of the buildings.

I wanted to center this differently, with the angle of the building sitting on the corner of the frame, but I couldn't get it right, and when I tried to crop it that way, it looked like garbage. I'm still pretty damn fond of this photo, however. I took this very hastily, because the rest of my class was about to cross the street, and I didn't want to get lost in downtown Denver, where I would surely not know where I was going, and would be forced to curl up in a ball next to some sort of trash receptacle and cry, because obviously I would never find my way home ever again.

We walked to a few other places, I snapped a few pictures of candy in this kitschy little candy/soda joint that I just HAVE to tell my cousin about. He used to collect soda, the more disgusting it was, the better. I remember milk soda. Chocolate milk soda, specifically. It looked like dirty paint water, and tasted like fizzy Yoo-Hoo that had been watered down with sewage. Anyway, we stopped for a good long while at the beginning of Larimer Square. I felt incredibly delighted by this. The last time I was at Larimer Square, I was with The (Boy)Friend and Sarah on New Year's Eve, and I wasn't able to take any pictures of the twinkly lights draped all about the place. That was also a bit of a problem this evening, as my Gorilla Pod was not very effective as a tripod. I needed something with height. And envy came into play again! But, I braced myself against a post and held my breath, and this was the photo I got with the least amount of blur.

It's not terribly clear, but considering that I was shooting at 1/8, it's pretty fucking impressive that it's as still as it is. And again, I really, really love this photo. I love that one side of the clouds looks glacial, and the other side looks like a fire. I love the lights. I love the cars. I love love love the building on the left. I felt so happy while I was shooting over here. It wasn't loud, and it felt so calm, even though there was clearly a lot going on. I'm going to ask one of the agents here if I can borrow his tripod this week, and I may very well see if Kristen wants to go through Larimer Square after we're finished with RMNP and Boulder on Thursday.

After spending about thirty minutes on this street corner, where every third person would ask what I was taking pictures of, we wandered down the street and ducked into a pillared hallway right next to a restaurant. I wanted to push my luck again and see if I could manage another photo of the lights without a tripod.

Nailed it. Well, sort of. Considering I didn't have a tripod? Yeah. Nailed it.

And then the instructor started talking to me, and he let me borrow his tripod so I could take a few shots of where we were, since it was quite nice.

I fucked around with split-toning in LR, because I wanted to see if I could do it. And I can! But it looks a bit yellow. Though I guess I don't particularly mind it.

I shot this at 6 seconds, and this fellow opened the door about two seconds in. I was sort of worried that I'd have this odd, Gaussian blur effect going on in the middle of the door, but it held fairly nicely.

I have so many more photos to look through and edit, but these were all I had time for this morning.

This was probably the longest post I've done ever at all, and I feel kind of bad for being so ramble-y.

Title.

I'm taking a photo class tonight. It's the first photography class I've paid for, but I really need help nailing the exposure values on my camera, so I'm hoping it will be worth the money I spent on it. It's up in Denver, so I'm going to meet Kristen for a quick bite to eat after my class. I'm going back to Rocky Mountain National Park with her next Thursday to take pictures. The last time I went with The (Boy)Friend, it really was beautiful, but too covered in snow to be good for walking to the lakes.

I don't know what else to say.

But does it have the ultimate song?

I really love snow leopards.

Like, a lot.

In my Facebook feed, Cheyenne Mountain Zoo has a post about conserving energy and the simple little things you can do to help. Good guy Zoo is doing it right. But I'm pretty fucking sure they knew that I was going to be looking, because the picture they posted to go along with the post was of a snow leopard, though there was nothing specifically related to snow leopards anywhere about the thing.

This caused quite the sensation in my brain.

Please allow me to inform you on what just happened in my house.

I ran frantically around, shutting off lights.

Roommate: HEY! What the fuck, Drea?

Me: You don't need these lights, Allen!

Roommate: Uh, I'm, pretty sure I'm watching hockey right now.

He said that because I turned the television off.

Me: THE SNOW LEOPARDS!!! They need all of the energies, apparently!

Roommate: ....Do they want to watch hockey?

Me: It's very possible that they do.

Roommate: Then they can come over here, because I'm watching this.

Me, sitting down, with excited tears on my face: Oh my gosh, do you think they would??

Skinny grey cat just came by for pettings, and I looked at her disdainfully and said, you are not a snow leopard. She responded by hitting me with her head. She cares not for my disdain, only for being petted.

The rats were looking hungry for peanut butter, so I indulged them. Brisby was super tender and delightful while he ate the peanut butter off of my finger (that's how I taught him the one trick he knows, which is simply called "shoulder". In which I say shoulder, and he runs up onto my shoulder. I hope you understood that, because it's fairly complicated), but Andes turned into a fucking devil machine and chomped right into the juciest, tenderest part of the cushion on my finger tip, and clung on for dear life. I imagine that if I had removed my hand and flung it about, he would have stayed on for the ride, and somewhere, softly, carnival music would play as Andes took the carousel ride of his life. I reprimanded him and gave Brisby his peanut butter. I didn't want Andes to go without, so I put a dollop on a sunflower seed and gave it to him, which he promptly grabbed out of my fingers, rather rudely, I feel.

I spent some time with The (Boy)Friend last night. He has the sexiest facial scruff going on, and I've been all manner of distracted with thoughts about it all day. I get to see him again tomorrow night before he leaves Wednesday morning, and I'm excited. And nervous. Most of all, I'm sad, achey, and preemptively lonesome for him. I find myself wondering how to make time stop, because if tomorrow doesn't come, then Wednesday doesn't, either. It's very selfish of me, so I'm trying to keep those thoughts away completely. But it's not easy. I've been doing my best not to bother him with texts or phone calls, because I know he has other people to say goodbye to and hang out with, and I don't want to interrupt that. I've been pretty successful at not texting him when I want to, though I do plan on texting him goodnight when I get ready to go to sleep. It's been hard, not sleeping next to him these last few nights. When he would go out of town, it was different. And while sleeping without him was a bummer, it didn't crush my feels like it does now. I'm terrified that Thursday night was the last time that I'll ever get to sleep next to him again. And stupid me, I was asleep and not awake to enjoy it. Damn lack of foresight! Get your shit together. I just...I really want to write about it here, because typing in here feels very natural when it comes to working out what's going on inside my head. But I also don't want to seem melodramatic, or ridiculous, or worse, like I'm just throwing the private goings on between me and The (Boy)Friend out for any ol' person to see. And that's not my style. So for now, mum's the word. I can't promise that I will stick to that, because chances are very good that I will, in the very near future, unload my thoughts here. More than likely with a picture to match. However, to repeat, today and this entry are not that day and entry.

I wanted to take pictures tonight on my way home from the gym, but this storm isn't really allowing that. Also, I have not gone to the gym, and thus have not made my way home from the gym, so my laziness has also put the kibosh on that plan. I am going to be going to the gym in a few minutes here. Once I listen to my new favorite song that is also crushing my feels. Oh, you! When will you ever learn!

Sans picture, because.

I have completely dismantled one of those tacky umbrellas that people stick in tropical drinks, and I've turned it into a stick person doing the hula, because of course, that's the natural progression of a drink umbrella that you've torn down. I don't even know where the hell this umbrella came from, I just know that my first instinct was to make it something else, because sometimes, I really enjoy creating a puzzle out of nothing at all.

https://vine.co/v/bdzJWQKmelV This is making me laugh.

There's a song in my head that I can't make go away, no matter what I do.

It's on this odd loop, constantly replaying the parts that make me the angriest.

It's just something I have to deal with, because I'm too scared to listen to music that I actually like, because I know those words, and I'm a tad sensitive right now. (edit: my own music wins, because the song in my head...that's still there, just a lot quieter now...is really starting to hurt my fucking feelings with its persistence. FUCK, it's irritating!)

Last night, I drove through my city. I drove through my city and I watched the lights glow above buildings that people were sleeping in. I watched cars speed past me, but everything felt so slow. I waited for the minutes to tick tick tick down, because I promised I would, and I always keep my promises. I spent a good deal of time sitting on the hood of my car, watching the stars flicker over my sleepy city, the lights blurring and reflecting in each ridiculous tear that had waited patiently to fall. And they were so patient.

I remember crying over a boy once when I was younger; I remember thinking that being older meant that things wouldn't hurt at all. I felt like I was just so god damn in touch with the entire world when I was a teenager, and I had a direct line in to this huge pool of feelings that adults just couldn't understand. I just assumed that adults were dead inside, because none of them seemed to understand how it was that I was feeling, and always told me I was wrong, and these things I felt weren't actually things. I would angrily tell myself  that they didn't get it because the older you get, the less you really feel and know.

I was a little fucking shit when I was a teenager, in case that story didn't make it wildly apparent.

I held on to that last belief, in a manner of speaking, for quite some time. I would take an emotional beating (actually, I took a lot of them, because teenagers make awesomely bad choices) in my late teens and tell myself, oh man, soon you'll be a real adult and shit just won't hurt anymore. And then my early twenties came, and when my illusions were shattered and my heart was broken, I stoically told my heart that the next time, however far into the future that might be, I would be older and any kind of pain I experienced wouldn't hurt, because that's how the world works. That was five years ago, and guess what I've discovered? That either I was fucking wrong when I was a teenager, or I'm not actually an adult yet, and turning into petrified wood emotionally is a slower process than I anticipated. The first option is right, I'm just being diverse to prove that I have range.

I don't know how to end this, though there are a million things I want to say. My little mind is equally as tangled.