A Flower for Sarah

flower

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Dear Media Temple, Again

I very much appreciate your peace offering of two shirts, a coffee mug, and three lanyards, but what I really want is an apology and a definition of a GPU in finite terms.

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Rise Or Rust

I heard some kind of clatter from the fifth floor of Coffman as I was heading home tonight. Out front local band Rise or Rust was playing. I didn’t know it was them, so I was about to leave, but they surprised me with “Folsom Prison Blues,” and it wasn’t terrible, so I hung around. By the second song I remembered that I had my camera.

Trucker hat
Rise or Rust

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Make With The Pictures

I took several hundred pictures over the weekend.

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The Big Three

1) New Job, full time, gainfully employed by the University of Minnesota as a “civil servant” of some sort.
2) New Apartment, one bedroom, in the Stevens Square neighborhood
3) New Website design, featuring blood, skulls, and pirates, to be launched April 21st.

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Three Is The Magic Number, Yes It Is

My general recommendation is that one avoid moving to a new home in the rain. That said, the big movement came out okay over the weekend, and I am only slightly dead as a result.

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Picking a Process

Sorry, no pictures today — I’ve been shooting HP5 in my new Canon Canonet QL17 G-III, which means that I am at the tender mercies of Sarah to either develop my film for me or sneak me into a lab to process my film myself.

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Canon, Canonet

My mom and I went to look at an apartment Saturday morning. Afterwards, we drowned my disappointment at the Mill City Cafe in Northeast. I took a roundabout way there, and on the way, my mom spotted a red robot in a window.

“Look! There’s a robot in the window of that antique shop!” she said. I glanced over and declared that my hunger was too great — we would have to visit after breakfast.

Little did I know that there was a cute, black rangefinder camera there.
jm_d30_3969662_RJ.JPG

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Photo + Digital

Today I looked at three apartments, called a couple more, and picked up a CD from La Cible*.

*Target

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Six Months Without You

It was September first when last I rode my bike — I think that the last day in August was the one where I found out that my brakes work terrifically as I flew over the handlebars and into the path of an oncoming car. Fortunately they had a stop sign.
Surly Cross-Check

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