Numero two.

I've made it to Day Number Two of the 30 for 30 challenge, which is pretty spectacular for me. I'm not so good with the old self-restraint and don't usually make it past the end of day one. The challenge will be on this shiny new blog, which you should only look at if you really like looking at boring clothes and lots of pictures of my dog. This is my favorite expression of his:
Don't be fooled by his extremely adorable good looks. He's a bully.China, my Guy's dog, is super-sweet and loves loves loves to be loved by the people but the dogs, not so much. She hates other dogs and was growling at Dr. Evil for weeks before his constant, unending need to be right next to her every second of every day finally won her over. Now they're best friends and have bi-hourly wrestling matches. They're surprisingly well-matched. Dr. Evil is tiny and incredibly uncoordinated but China is ancient and extremely stiff. The wrestling usually ends with Dr. Evil having stuffed himself under the couch to get away from an increasingly cranky China while she takes a quick nap so as to regain her strength.

So then I was, all, like, you know...

Halloween happened and I was a burglar, of the old-fashioned variety, complete with shady mustache.

I'd decided on the costume about two days before Halloween and I was all smug about how prepared I was (long-sleeve black shirt, black pants, black hat, black mask. I have all those things. I am done) only to find while I was getting dressed that morning that I did not, in fact, have half of those things. Pink masks, white masks, tiger masks, those I had but a plain little black one? Nope. Same with the long-sleeve shirt. The only black one I have has yellow seams. Totally unsuitable for burglary. Finally, I ended up cutting the mask out of one of my backdrops and wearing the yellow seamed shirt out the door, studiously ignoring the fifteen or so costumes I already have hanging in the closet. I've already worn those. I got to where I was going and ran into my friend, Anahi. She wasn't in costume but she happened to be wearing a black, long-sleeved shirt and as soon as I saw it, I dragged her into the bathroom, swapped tops, she drew the mustache on my finger, and voila! My burglar costume, it was complete. Then I took a nine-year-old boy trick or treating and I was one of a very small group of adults in costume. This is because I rock.

Another Halloween festivity this year was going to Knott's Scary Farm with the Guy, the BFF, and her guy.

We saw a lot of stuff like this:

It was a lot of fun and I got to try out my new camera lens, a Canon 50mm. I'm kind of in love with this lens. As soon as I figure out how to use it, I'ma take some purdy pictures. This is one that the BFF took of my and the Guy, using the lens.

It's blurry and off-center and I love it. My BFF is a much better photographer than I am.

I also went with Amber, the Guy, and his Kid to a Day of the Dead event at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery but the pictures aren't uploaded yet. I'll get around to that, eventually.

That's it, really. Work is working out, for now. I've got a shoot on Thursday night and I'll get to experiment some more with my new lens.
The dog is much better behaved since he's grown used to me and the apartment. The cat is still trying to kill the dog and I'm afraid that I may have to take my landlord up on his offer to take the cat but I'm holding out for a while longer, hoping that the cat may yet calm down, just a little, and quit with the dogicide.

I read today about a blogger challenge to pick thirty things out of your closet and wear them, and only them, for thirty days. I am intrigued and may give this a shot. The thing is, I'm poor, I have a somewhat problematic addiction to new shoes and dresses, and I love style. With this challenge, I wouldn't be allowed to shop and I'd have to find new ways to wear my favorite things.
I'd probably start up a new blog for this challenge. Definitely intrigued. I may even start tomorrow. I'll let you know how it goes.

I am Sparta

I spent the last two days in the hospital and three doctors and two nurses told me that I "look really good for someone with an abscess".

That, apparently, is "looking really good". Mostly, I was weepy and woozy. I did all my eatin' through a tube in my arm and that, my friends, was not nearly as much fun as other kinds of eating. The first solid food I had in two days was an apple and that crisp, crunchy goodness nearly blew my drugged-out little mind.

The Guy was working at night so ended up spending the last two days without sleeping at all so that he could take care of me.

He did some hand-holding, brought some books and fresh socks, took care of the puppy, and basically proved himself (again) an all-around awesome boyfriend. The hairy growth that seems to be sprouting from his neck? That was me. I was hiding my face because by that point I'd gone about twenty hours without swallowing anything at all and despite the lack of liquid in my body, I'd squeezed surprising amounts of water out of my eyeballs. They were swollen up like basketballs. I'm not sure what that says about me - I was in pain, woozy from dehydration and scared of what was going on but I still had to take a photo and not look hideous - but I'm sure it says something. Probably something not very flattering, in which case I will assume it's jealous and pay no attention.
I've been given jugs and jugs of antibiotics and some painkillers (all the medications are liquid, in case I'm unable to swallow again. Isn't that thoughtful?) and some Dire Warnings about what happens if I don't take the meds on time and sent on my (droopy) way.

I'm home again, my dog is frantic with joy, my cat is outwardly indifferent but inwardly relieved and my plant seems not to have noticed. I'm going to drag myself into bed and stay there for at least twelve hours, or until the puppy needs to pee, whichever comes first.

*I should probably mention that I am currently all drugged up and if this entry makes no sense, I blame the codeine.

I've got a dog and he has Special Needs. Namely, food, water, and constant attention. It turns out that my adorable "non-needy, quiet, well-behaved" puppy has Separation Anxiety (fancy talk for He Freaks Out And Turns Into A Maniac Whenever He's Left Alone) and worms. The worms I don't mind. A couple of visits to the vet, a couple of pills forced down his throat, we're all set. The Separation Anxiety? That's a whole other can worms (See what I did there? HA!). Since he's relatively quiet when I'm around, I still don't know how obnoxious he really is when I'm at work but my neighbors have been quick to inform me: He's a whining, barking, yelping nightmare, producing brain-bending noises for HOURS at a time. I went outside to type this entry and as the door shut behind me, the yelping started. It's a sort of high-pitched squeak right now, like the world's longest fingernail scratching the world's biggest chalkboard.
The dog is adorable, and sweet, and needs to be trained. I'm not gonna give up on the beast but I've got to figure out how to get him to shut up. If anyone's got any tips, lemme have 'em.

How cute is that guy? How deceptively well-mannered of appearance.

Sigh.

Yesterday, I was confused, heartbroken, feeling lost and hopeless. Maybe my life shoulda taken a left at Albuquerque. I didn't know what was going on or how I'd ended up in such a mess. Today? My new boots have arrived and all is well with the world.
Well, I'm not so shallow as all that. Things had straightened themselves out by the time I'd gone to bed last night but the boots? They only confirm that, yes, things are going to be awesome indeed. How could they not be whilst shod in these?

Steve Madden, you always know how to make a girl feel better.

Getting the ball rolling

Earlier this week, I decided that I needed to replace my car, get a new computer, buy a new lens, and get a bigger apartment- all this in addition to enlarging my dress and shoe collections. Clearly, I'm going to need another job. I poked around the internet and moaned to anyone who would listen how much I hate waiting tables and I don't want a crazy office job and then I remembered: I take pictures and sometimes, people give me money to do it. Therefore, if I take more pictures and get paid for them, I would make more money and I wouldn't need a second job. I could just keep doing what I already do and be able to afford the things I need.
This was all very exciting and great but I'm pretty terrible with the whole 'not being lazy' thing. I see now that it's going to take a lot of work to get a viable business off the ground, one in which shoot more than just once a month. Still, I need the car, computer, lens, apartment, dresses, and shoes so yesterday, I got cracking. I set up a business page on the facebook, did a fashion shoot, edited and uploaded lots of pictures, agonized over making them public, did it anyway, and generally feel like I am off to a good start.I finished most of the pictures I took of Amber months ago - this is one of my favorites:She's just so happy!

This is one from yesterday:
Absolutely fantastic model. It was a great shoot, lots of fun, she was on her game, knew exactly what she was doing, trusted that I knew what I was doing, and loves having her picture taken - that makes a huge difference, when it comes right down to it. Models that are comfortable in front of the camera are so easy to photograph!

I'll be buying the lens next, then setting up a website. Very exciting stuff.

Other than that, life has been pretty quiet. Quiet is nice right now.

THIS STAYS BETWEEN YOU AND ME, INTERNET
My laziness has reached epic proportions. Yesterday I moved furniture around my apartment so that I could LIE ON MY COUCH AND SEE MY LAPTOP. I am really that lazy. I moved FURNITURE so as not to have to move a laptop. It was only one piece of furniture, really. Just the couch. It makes a certain kind of sense - I'm dragging around ONE couch instead of unplugging, untangling, moving, and reattaching, like, THREE cables (external hard drive, speakers, mouse). Plus one laptop. That's four (light) things to move instead of just one (incredibly heavy) thing.
I can't believe I'm trying to justify this. I am lazy. I am ashamed. Sort of. Mostly, I'm really comfortable.


ALL THAT COMPLAINING, WASTED.
Now that my work schedule has abruptly gone back to normal, I find that I'm freaking out. I didn't want to work all day every day but I liked having money. I'll still have money, mind you, just not as much. I liked all that much. I was getting used to it. My concern is such that I'm seriously considering getting a (gasp) second job. My job, as it is, pays enough to cover my bills and the rent but SHOES!! All those lovely shoes that I can't buy! Not to mention all those gorgeous summer dresses that are going on sale RIGHT THIS MINUTE! This is why I need a second job. The extremely shallow aspects of my nature are stronger than the very lazy aspects and I'm going to drag myself out of this extremely comfortable, well-positioned if not very decorative couch and get another job. Then I will be able to lie right back down again while wearing the beige Steve Madden platform pumps I have been coveting for months now. I recently got the electric blue ones and they are a dream. Shortly after getting them, I saw photos of Victoria Beckham, my beloved Posh Spice, wearing those very same shoes with three different outfits. It's kismet. We're meant to be besties. I can tell. We have the same taste in shoes.




IT'LL CHANGE YOUR LIFE, I PROMISE
The other thing I've been enjoying lately is 8track. You can make your own playlists and share them. I love anything that lets me force my favorite music down other people's throats and my obsessive love of making lists means that I have playlists about EVERYTHING. This is my playlist that has songs about Paris.


I also have playlists about coffee, breaking up, zombies, shoes, Los Angeles, covers, death, unrequited love, circuses, and photographs. They will all eventually make their way onto that site. I'm having so much fun with it!