explorations in photography

I took a bunch of random pictures with my camera today.  I am no expert, I just played around with it.  Here are some of the best pics I got.  They are really rather stunning full size.  My camera is great, I am hoping to figure out how to use it well soon.

This first one is of dead sunflowers from last summer that are on the side of the house.  I really enjoy taking close ups.

I was playing with the contrast of focusing the foreground and blurring the background.  It makes for an interesting shot.

This picture looks a lot better full size.  My mom claims that the fruit on this tree used to be apples.  They look like berries to me.  Little wrinkly berries.

I just plain got lucky with this one.  I just love that the background is so muted and the branch is so vivid.  I honestly got lucky with every one of my photos today.  When it comes down to it, I have no idea what I am doing, but I am having fun pretending.

crazy me

I unfortunately really have no idea how to use my new computer or camera.  However, with the help of my brother, James, I have learned to do a few very important things.  For instance, I now have all my music on my computer, I can upload my movies (if I want) onto my computer to be viewed in FrontRow, and I can take pictures with my icamera.  That is the most important thing.  I can actually spend quite a bit of time taking crazy pictures of myself with the camera.  Here are a few of the recent pics.

My bank account is crying

My bank called me a few hours ago. They wanted to make sure I was actually as crazy as my purchases indicate. Yes, I am.
Yesterday I bought this:

and this:

and this:

and four of these:
and this:
and this (it was free because I bought so much other stuff):
and a couple other random things. It was a busy and expensive day. And fun too.

nervous

I have not been nervous in a very long time. I don't get nervous to speak in front of people, I don't get nervous to sing in front of people (in small groups, of course), I don't get nervous on dates, I don't get nervous leading the music in sacrament meeting.
Yesterday, I decided to lead an additional verse for the sacrament hymn, since the sacrament was still being prepared. I had already talked to the organist, and we were on the same page. So, I just went for it. As we started singing the 4th verse (one of the extra verses), I realized that I was the only one singing and that everyone had already put their hymn books away. There wasn't anything to do, other than continue leading and hope that people would catch on quickly. Luckily, they did catch on. I am not sure why this made me nervous, but I was actually shaking and had the whole butterflies-in-my-stomach experience. It was horrible. I have looked like a fool on many occasions while leading the music. I have completely botched 9/8 time (as if anyone could lead 9/8 time), and just smiled the whole way through the song while waving my arm aimlessly. This did not make me uncomfortable in the slightest, I wasn't even embarrassed. I just laughed my way through the song, as did everyone in the congregation who paid the slightest attention to what I was doing. I have had people stand for the rest hymn at the same time as the verse was beginning, this didn't embarrass me in the slightest. I have even happily ruined time signature changes. So why was I so nervous when I was leading an extra verse? This makes no sense. I guess that means we are going to start singing a lot of extra verses in sacrament meeting so that people will catch on and I will not feel like a fool when we do sing extra verses. Or, it means that I should be released.

Dinner, the easy way

There are a lot of nights (pretty much every night) that I decide to have an easy dinner. You know, warm up the left-overs, eat a frozen burrito, make a sandwich, have some cereal. It is just so much quicker than making from scratch for yourself every night. However, when I go out to eat I expect my meal to be prepared for me. One could argue that a cooked meal is indeed what you are paying for. Of course, atmosphere and not doing the dishes are included in the price, but the meal is really the primary reason for going out to eat.
It is no surprise, then, that I was somewhat aghast when my dinner came looking like this:In case the picture does not do justice to my dish, I will describe what I ordered and what arrived. I ordered the "Pear Salad". Doesn't that sound good. A nice salad with fruit. I love salad, and I love pears, so it was a match made in heaven. However, what I got is not something I would ever describe as "salad," even in the most liberal sense of the word. The plate that came to me consisted of a head of iceberg lettuce (still in it's head form) with a slit cut in the top and three pear slices placed in the slit to give it a mohawk look, around which was sprinkled cranberries and almonds, with a bit of dressing drizzled throughout. Don't get me wrong, I am willing to work to eat food (i.e. I will cut my steak myself, I will even put the condiments on my hamburger), but seriously, I was there to order dinner, not ingredients to make dinner. I was at a restaurant, not a grocery store. I was tempted right then to ask if they could just box up my "salad" throw in some carrots and tomatoes and send me home so I could make a salad out of what they brought me. Instead, I laughed. I was still laughing when the waitress came back to ask how the food was. I was laughing so much that I couldn't even tell her what a joke of a dinner she brought me. And, I hate it when people complain about what the ordered and ask for something different. So, I cut up my head of lettuce with my fork and knife (how else would you eat it) and sparingly added toppings to my fork-fulls of lettuce. The amazing thing, I was as hungry when I left as when I arrived at the restaurant, because it turns out that iceberg lettuce is really just water with a lettuce shell. The sad thing is that I didn't even get good atmosphere for my money- they sat me in the aisle at the end of my table, and people kept bumping into me as they walked by because there was not enough room for me and foot traffic. The nice thing, my friend paid for my dinner for me. This was possibly because he felt bad because I started out the evening by crying. Oh well. A free meal is a free meal. Beggars can't be choosers, right.

Because I have never been to Canada

Yesterday I signed up to volunteer for the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympic Games. I am super excited. We will see if I am accepted or not. I volunteered for Salt Lake 2002, and it was amazing! I wanted to do Torino 2006, but couldn't, as I was still in school. However, no reason to no do Vancouver 2010. So, if you need me, I will be away. As I plan to travel for the rest of my life. Things like volunteering for olympics merely give me an excuse (as if I need one).

I HATE Flagyl

The following is a list of reasons that I hate flagyl. I have listed the many side effects I am having from this horrible antibiotic. If you are weak of heart, this may not be the post for you. If you are sick of mind, keep reading: (taken from http://www.rxlist.com/cgi/generic/metronidaz_ad.htm)
1. Mouth: A sharp, unpleasant metallic taste is not unusual. Furry tongue; these may be associated with a sudden overgrowth of Candida which may occur during therapy.
2. Central Nervous System: irritability, weakness, and insomnia.
3. Hypersensitivity: flushing, nasal congestion, dryness of the mouth, and fever.
4. Renal: polyuria. Instances of darkened urine have been reported by approximately one patient in 100,000. Although the pigment which is probably responsible for this phenomenon has not been positively identified, it is almost certainly a metabolite of metronidazole and seems to have no clinical significance.
Additional symptoms listed in the Rite Aid Pharmacy pamphlet:
5. Stomach pain, loss of appetite, constipation, changes in taste, sore throat

Hence, I am a mess. I am a walking warning label for Flagyl. Oh, and it tastes horrid. We are talking, I nearly throw up every time I take it (every 8 hours). And the taste lasts and lasts. It is pretty great that way.

And the pharmacy pamphlet says I should tell my doctor immediately if I have a sore throat because it could be a serious side effect. Hmm, I have had the sore throat since Monday. Oops.

However, I have lost a bit of weight, if we are looking on the bright side.

I am a blond?

I got my hair cut on Monday. I love Betsy, she cuts my hair. She is the only one who has ever been able to cut my hair without destroying everything and ruing my life. And I am not even kidding. I found her when I was 18, and have followed her from salon to salon ever since. I will probably do that for the rest of my/her life no matter where I live. You could say I am codependent.
On Monday Betsy (who usually is quite sane) told me that I am a blond. Anyone who has known me in the last 10 years of my life would probably contest this, and with good reason. I was blond when I was a kid, but am now brown. I was in denial for several years in my teens when I still thought I was blond, but I have since come to my senses and embraced my hair color. So on Monday when Betsy told me that she considers me blond I almost laughed out loud. Her reasoning was such: there are very very few true adult blonds, and so as an adult lighter browns are actually blond. Hmm, not sure if I am jumping on this train, but it does explain a lot, doesn't it.

Adventures in Voting

This morning I voted. It doesn't matter who I voted for because I live in the state of Utah.
So, I get to the poles this morning and tell them my name and get the card for the machine. I tried to choose a middle machine, but they made me go to the end so that the machines get evenly used or something. I stick my card in the machine, begining the voting process. I choose my candidate, then it prints a little reciept for me to check, I push "Cast Ballot" and the machine goes black. So, my vote is still sitting there for the world to read. And my card is stuck in the machine (the card I am supposed to give back to the nice ladies at the registration desk.
I call for some help and a lady comes over who has no idea what to do. She makes sure everything is plugged in and then decides to restart the machine. I ask her if I need to revote, and she says that she is not sure. Then she says "you didn't vote for ___, did you?" Um, yeah, that is what my ballot shows, isn't it.
I am not sure if I actually voted today or not. And I think that I got put down for my choice of candidate. And, I thought the voter worker people were supposed to be non-partisan, and that my vote was supposed to be private. So much for all of that.