One geek still howling at the moon
The Red Hot Chili Peppers are my favourite band. Their songs deal with the themes of self-destruction, loneliness, seperation and redemption in a way which I can relate, but for the most part their lyrics are non-sensical rap:
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Mariah:
Mark: |
It always tickles me how weird people get about videogame companies, though. Creepy stalker players abound |
I, for lack of a better phrase, traumatized half of the fucking neighbourhood children on Friday night. The pants-wetting, hyterical-crying, horrible-nightmare kind of fucking trauma. Mariah was the Good Witch of the North, whereas I was a motherfucker (pardon my French) cloaked reaper who hid in the shadows and leaped out at poor children screaming and snatching at them. So I was bad. But the parents were worse, shoving their poor kids at me while laughing helplessly. We’re all bastards to be sure, but it made the night passable.
Saturday was spent trying to tidying the house, put decorations away and get Mariah’s new 43″ TV put in place and tuned (thank you Kenny <3) before she got home from work. Nothing much to say on this, move along, move along.
Sunday was entirely wasted playing World of Warcraft. I got two new levels, gave Mariah a ton of gold and bought myself a shiny new hammer to beat things up with.
Going from day to day over the last, I’ve always felt that Las Vegas has lacked something, some indefinable feeling that something is just wrong about the city. It took me until last night, when we were driving past a food stand on our way to the hospital (more below) to precisely pin down what it was: The city is too planned, and this fact takes away the feeling of belonging that comes with many other places I’ve been, both big and small. The city is a straight grid dropped down over the desert; north to south and east to west. There’s a retail park here, a housing development there, public amenities over here and here. I’m not going to admit to a belief in feng shui, but I will admit that Las Vegas feels a little like Minas Morgul at times, that it’s a place which really shouldn’t be.
Back to the hospital: Mariah has had a bad ear infection for the last four days, but took until last night before she would finally go to the hospital and get it looked at. Their resident ear and throat specialist referred to it as ”all funky” and sent her home with a prescription for ear and pain medication at a cost (so far) of almost two hundred dollars. What’s wrong with America that they can’t have universal health care like oh, everywhere else? It was sickening that the first and last things we were asked were, “Have you insurance?” “How would you like to pay?” Why wasn’t it, “Where does it hurt?” It pissed me off no end that this country can be so backward at times because I come from a country where the most pressing medical question isn’t how the patient will pay!
She’s home on the couch, sick, now.
I took a few photos of Caira yesterday, to prove that can still do it. I’m not going to say what I think of where my photographic skills stand, but I will say that I find that I’m still in love with the fifty. I have this horribly afflicted love for bokeh and the lens is still perfect, if cheap, for it.
Last, but not least, I’m an uncle, as of Thursday night Friday morning. Ella Mary Grealish was born at 0200 on May 16 2008, underweight but otherwise healthy. Nice one Jen.
Mariah took this over the Easter holiday and I processed it, which is a fair sign of how active I’ve been with photography in the past few weeks. I even went so far as to offer Mariah my camera, although I got some biting comments for my troubles, to the effect that I’m using it as a cover to get a new camera. The offer was genuine; although I’d love to go out and get a 40D, I haven’t had any opportunity to shoot any of the things that I find interesting, to the point that getting new kit has actually dropped down the list a few points.
