Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Super Bowl Sunday
Today is the Super Bowl. I don't even know what that means. I am going to The Allen's home to watch the game but that is the extent of my knowledge on that. Well, I guess I know that there is football and good commercials involved. And munchies and drinks. So, when you swirl all of that together, it sounds like Thanksgiving? Wheee! Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Mayor of F*@% You Town
It's been a while since I've posted an old excerpt from Dustin and my past. Here is one of my absolute favorites from June of 2006. We were living in Seattle and, what?, down on our luck and down on ourselves...
"So, after riding to work today on our Vespa in the spitty rain we are decidedly in a sorrowful mood. Our lovely orange 1977 Fiat had broken down the second Dustin got back home last Saturday. Of course. It has run just dandy for a year but the moment we sell our Land Cruiser in preparation to move to San Diego and have we have ONLY the Fiat to rely on, it decides to take a dump. Sweet. We hobble along. Fix it and the Vespa. We are ok. Then, it starts acting up again last night. We ride, silently, to work in the rain. Neither of us have to even utter the words of frustration aloud. We know what the other is thinking... "two steps forward, thirteen steps back..."
Once at work, Dustin shuffles over to my computer and starts mumbling something about how "life is hard" and "why bother" and "who is [he] fooling trying to be a photographer" and "why don't we just sit in our Seattle studio forever"? Optimistically, I mention that a new fun company (www.fredflare.com) is hiring a photographer. If he tried for it we could live in Brooklyn! Very near NYC. I would be happy, he would be happy. We wouldn't even need a car. I was just trying to lighten the mood. He said, "No, f*^% that. I don't just want to work in New York City, I want to own it. I would be the mayor and I would rename it “Fuck You Town."
"So, after riding to work today on our Vespa in the spitty rain we are decidedly in a sorrowful mood. Our lovely orange 1977 Fiat had broken down the second Dustin got back home last Saturday. Of course. It has run just dandy for a year but the moment we sell our Land Cruiser in preparation to move to San Diego and have we have ONLY the Fiat to rely on, it decides to take a dump. Sweet. We hobble along. Fix it and the Vespa. We are ok. Then, it starts acting up again last night. We ride, silently, to work in the rain. Neither of us have to even utter the words of frustration aloud. We know what the other is thinking... "two steps forward, thirteen steps back..."
Once at work, Dustin shuffles over to my computer and starts mumbling something about how "life is hard" and "why bother" and "who is [he] fooling trying to be a photographer" and "why don't we just sit in our Seattle studio forever"? Optimistically, I mention that a new fun company (www.fredflare.com) is hiring a photographer. If he tried for it we could live in Brooklyn! Very near NYC. I would be happy, he would be happy. We wouldn't even need a car. I was just trying to lighten the mood. He said, "No, f*^% that. I don't just want to work in New York City, I want to own it. I would be the mayor and I would rename it “Fuck You Town."
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