Jul 26 1 comments
Goods, Life, Mr. Darcy, Photo, Style

Jump

This is not my favourite time of year.  Dark greens receding from the tips of the soon-brilliant-red of maples leaves make me long for fall, even if that means winter.  I’m better in the in-between.

I was taken recently with an inescapable desire to jump around.  Kishka felt this was somewhat less important than her cuteness.  The damn cat wins again.  Now with video.

Hey, let’s be girls.

À la what I wore:

When: Oh, summertime

What:

Shirt:  Blush pink cotton, Ragtime Vintage, $14
Earrings:  My boyfriend got them in Doha, $NotAsking
Skirt:  Anthropologie.

We're Okay.
Jul 20 2 comments
Life, Mr. Darcy, Photo, Words

Primordial muck

Cleanliness is a perceptible state of being; anyone who has gone too long without knows this lightening sensation, and maybe even relishes it.

But it has to be said, most of my fondest memories have far more to do with muck and grime.  And always stars.

Jul 10 5 comments
Food, Life, Photo, Words

Win Win

Witness:  This week, I photographed a complete stranger dancing around in a fountain in the Market.  We were joined by another complete stranger who owed my stranger a batch of cupcakes.  Why?  Because he promised some to whomever could make him laugh in a Tweet.  Social media FTW.  (Digression:  For the Win?  Fuck the World?  The double-entendre makes me giddy.)

Chocolate icing.  I know you’re wondering.

That same night, at a bar that is nothing if not Ottawa, was a gathering of other people who, like me, put stuff on the internet.  It is a community of mostly girls, and mostly moms.  Decide whatever you like about that.

Nineteen-year-old Daniel from Guatelajara, Mexico, once told me (as we shivered in the pre-dawn on the precarious edge of an open-sided bus in Botswana) that his favorite thing to do for his friends’ birthdays was to bake them a cake.  This is not what I expected from a 19-year-old Mexican kid.  Especially not in Botswana.

Turns out Daniel was right.  It IS fun to make cakes for my best friends.

Jul 01 1 comments
Goods, Life, Photo, Style, Words

In Pink

Damn, that New Pornographers song is catchy.

Oh, June.  You were too short by half.  I loved you in sickness and health (Seriously, cold.  You sucked).  But now it is July, and our sovereign is here, and yesterday, I walked down Slater to the sounds of Oscar Peterson, and up ahead near the  war memorial were crowds, clapping and singing God Save the Queen, and my god, I love this country.

It is better, so much better, than all of the ones I have also loved.  In all manner of altitudes, underneath strange and wilder skies.

No wonder we love to look up at fireworks.

À la what I wore:

When: June 27, 2010 – Sabrina and Ian’s wedding!

What:

Dress: Sweet Chemise
Shoes: Tory Burch (I know.  Spoiled.)
Purse: Vintage, wedding gift from mom

I bought this dress exclusively for the belt, a hot fuchsia satin I have visions of pairing with a crisp white shirt one of these days.  Though it goes pretty nicely with the dress.  A new job gave me just enough of an excuse to purchase the beige heels, very reduced at Holt.  I usually cannot wear points, so clearly, these are the magical sort.  It is occasionally very nice to dress up.

Jun 25 6 comments
Life, Words

Correlation

I admit this reluctantly, but a couple of months ago, I quit diet soda.  It was hard.  I don’t really care to convince you, but its effect translated into fairly significant weight loss, which is fairly significant for crazy fitness freaks like me.  

So soda – even the diet kind – is now a treat.  And since my caloric standards for beverage were zero to begin with, that leaves water.  And coffee.  (I’m not totally crazy.)

Manifest my regular afternoon life-or-death cravings for said forbidden chemicals, and what you get is me forking out for a 355ml bottle of organic lemonade.  Good for me, right?  Wrong.  The small print on the bottle tells me there are TWO EFFING SERVINGS in just over a cup fluid.  At 130 calories each.  Tempertantrum.

I’m stressed out.  This has been aggravated lately by an astonishing and epidemic lack of basic manners perpetrated by the people finding a way to get into my immediate space.  We are beyond the criminal act of ignoring people who hold open doors.  I am prepared to become verbal.  I may threaten to call your mother.

Whoever suggests I turn these lemons into lemonade gets a kick in the ass.  When I let the door close on it.  Because you didn’t say thank you.

You’ve been warned.  

Jun 15 0 comments
Life, Mr. Darcy, Words

Sidebar

This website is a small triumph.  You out there who think it’s easy.  It’s not.

Also extraordinary:  Waterlife.  All you CLF2′ers lurking out there, give me the tools to do THIS.  Because this is what we need.  Screw the sidebar.  (Are you listening, Treasury Board?).

My husband came home!  He brought vodka.

Did you notice my life list?  It’s next to the Reading tab I haven’t updated in a hundred years.  And yes, it’s precisely because I haven’t read anything in a hundred years.  I might start anew with this one.  Or maybe this one.

As you were.

Jun 07 6 comments
Life, Mr. Darcy, Photo

Super

Dear husband,

See what happens when you go away?  Please come save me from obscure online tutorials on light painting, and my imminent purchase of multicolour led lights over at ThinkGeek.

Yours truly,

Superwoman.  (It’s time you knew.)

Jun 06 0 comments
Life, Photo, Style

Balance

For those with their toes in the photography pond, I hope you know about Ken Rockwell’s excellent resource. He has the most unambiguous way of interpreting the user’s manual. He puts the joy back into it by finding balance between technical skill and for godsakes, I just want to shoot.

Anyway, here’s a few.  Horray for the chapter on White Balance, which I have read six times and finally understand kinda.

Now for some pretty things.

Jun 01 1 comments
Life, Mr. Darcy, Photo, Style, Words

Howdy, Stranger

I had coffee with Jim Watson on Monday. A few weeks ago, I asked if I could buy him one over Twitter. He said yes, and I spent Sunday night reading up on his platform.

Thanks to the cool kids at Apartment 613, I’m not so removed from municipal issues as I might have been. But this wasn’t an interview, it was just coffee, with a guy who might shortly make decisions that affect me. I, for one, feel better.

Some housekeeping.

I started a 100-stranger project. It’s mostly about photos, but it’s also because catharsis is something akin to making people see themselves a little bit differently. That seems like good karma. Sure, there’ll be clothes. But.

Stay with me here.

I follow perfect strangers home in my imagination; I construct their lives in real-time, their homes, their families. I wonder what they are thinking, where they are going, whether they realize I am narrating their story, whether they think they’re even worth a story.

Now, dice that down to the sound of the shutter firing, the pop of flash.

Gotcha, firefly.

Below, the first few bits of something I expect might be cool.

You might also like North-South Jennifer, another girl just doing what she believes in.

May 29 0 comments
Fit, Photo

Raceday

You’d think I’d be the sort to run marathons.  You’d be wrong.  But they do make for some good copy.

These first few woman in the 10K tonight were machines.  Nothing like a good reality check to put my own fitness into perspective.  This, friends, is serious dedication.  (And serious abs.  Yowza.)