Monday, February 28, 2011

from before


"I would like two Absolute martinis."

"Any vermouth?"


"Any olives?"




"Just vodka then?"


Photo - take one

 Photo - take two



It's never too cold to pick up a favorite Boo


It was not on the list but...

It was not on the list but we did indeed get kicked out of the Museum of Fine Arts and I do not think it was because I was mostly taking photos of cocks and unattended children.

It was fast

I cannot remember all the things that we did and I know there was a bunch of stuff on the list that we didn’t even get close to being able to do.

It was so very hard to get out of bed and for one whole day we didn’t. House keeping missed two days out of seven.

I know we went to the Museum of Fine Arts, Funusual, and Newbury Comics.

I know we walked through Quincy Market Place.

I know we used public transportation.

I know we went to the same café repeatedly and at least four times.

I know we went to a diner and my two favorite bars. We were at each bar at least twice and both time we were given free drinks.

We walked through Boston Common and the Boston Public Garden, we saw the famous duck sculpture and some not so famous works of arts. We had drinks at the bar that the tv show Cheers was based on, where someone shook my hand which further proved I was a local or at least a familiar.

We visited the Asian market and commented on a bunch of things and one of us bought some girly looking soap (that soap is now in Vegas).

I know we saw someone steal from some street performer on the subway and when the thief ran by us on the stairs I lowered my shoulder into him which made him fall and it was somewhat funny watching him try to right himself on the stairs but couldn’t because he was wearing his pants below his waistline. I had thought about taking the money back but I had promised that I would not take risks such as that.

I know we had a very tasty steak dinner at the Texas Roadhouse where we both got the baked sweet potatoes as a side dish.

We included Melissa in some of my standard photo opportunity locations.

I know premium tequila, like Patron Silver, served on the rocks is one of ‘our’ drinks and it goes nicely after some Absolute martinis. Sidenote: premium tequila is nothing like the shit tequila that you have probably been exposed to.

It seemed like we each had years of knowledge about each other more than what we could read from a blog, the way we walked, or talked, or enjoyed each other’s company, it all seemed like it had been happening for years. It was all comfortable and familiar.

Museum of Fine Arts

This guy would just not mind his own business. He was just always about when I wanted to take a candid shot. I hate him still. My revenge is this photo.

I said, 'This guy looks stoned," Melissa said, "You would want to be stoned too if you were missing a foot."

When did artwork of fucking your wife in the ass while she is trying to do house work become taboo?

I was trying to depict size

Then a little boy walked into the frame. Thank you little boy.
And what's funny is that I had wanted to ask the someone that I was with to step into the frame but I knew she wouldn't do it so I had to rely on this stranger kid.

I lined up this shot and snapped it, and then a lady told me that she didn't think that I was supposed to be taking pictures. I smiled and told her to go fuck herself.
You can take photos, just no flash and you can't take photos of the photos.
But then none of the photos were photo worthy.

This is the best photo that I am allowed to show you.

Everything relates to her

I sit here on granite stairs and remember that we didn't get to people watch from one of my most popular locations.

I miss her from places that we never have been in person.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

My house is huge!

My house is huge and I never really know who will be at home, the residents are me, two of my sisters and possibly my mom will be around on the weekends and holidays and school vacations, even though she is supposed to be confined to the her in-law apartment.

On the day I walked through the door with Melissa, one sister was home in the  process of leaving the house and my mom was in the process of making beef stew at the kitchen table. I made the introductions: I said, "Mom this is Melissa and Melissa this is my mom," and the two of them started what I thought was a normal conversation but three sentences later my mom was crying and almost had to leave the room.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

I am not dead in a ditch!

I hear this place is the best for breakfast

We went to the Museum of Fine Arts

Later I was forced to promise not to take any more candid photos regardless of how good this one is

She knows how to take a photo and I know how not to miss a photo opportunity

I was looking at the art like most folks do when they are in an art museum when I turned and saw a young girl setting up to take a photograph; I had been taking photos of the art so I raised my camera that was still in my hand and I was quite pleased that I was going to get a very nice photo but then I realized that my camera was shut off. I slightly panicked that I was going to miss the shot in the time it took to turn the camera on but fortunately she was very particular with how she wanted her photo to be, and it was taking her a rather long time, so that I had time for a second chance.

Sometimes second chances work out great.

Melissa watched the whole thing, she knew exactly what I was doing because she had gotten in the habit of watching my eyes. She was in the habit of watching my eyes not only because my eyes are the most beautiful blue but because you can often tell what I am thinking. She quickly learned to read my eyes.

We spoke about what I would have done if I had missed the shot of the little girl taking the photo.

 "If I had missed the shot the would have said, "Hey little girl can I see that photo you just took?"  and then when she showed me I would have told her that it was a horrible photo and that she should take it again."

Tuesday, February 22, 2011


Boston isn't too cold. Not for winter anyway and that is why I like to layer.

I think it is going to warm up to 31 anyway.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

Just moments

It's just moments away from when I get to see Melissa.

The trip has been planned and replanned and at times it seemed like it couldn't come fast enough, but now it's here, in less than twenty four hours.

Worries about first impressions. Nervous about that initial encounter. Confident that things will be great.

There is still stuff I need to get done.

Monday, February 14, 2011

I no longer care to write this post

I have clothes that I had forgotten I had, some was given to me and other articles I had purchased myself. Fortunately, my style hasn't changed too much.

I did fill two trash bags; one of most likely rags and the other will go to Goodwill.

Most of my communicating happens internally and when I have to force it to an external location: it sucks the energy right from me.  I've noticed it first after doing graphic design stuff like print ads, web pages and Flash movies. I can't do back to back pieces unless they are for the same job. I always have to recharge.

...I no longer care to write this post

Wednesday, February 09, 2011


I like eating clementines mostly because they are easy to peel.

I like to keep the peel in one piece.


But I'm not obsessive about it.

This is just because I was told that I don't take enough pictures.

Monday, February 07, 2011

Waiting and Wanting

We have talked about doing things. Things we haven't done before. Some of those things are like eating citrus fruit or visiting the new wing of the art museum and then there are the other things which are far away from eating fruit from the supermarket.

The date is set.

I wait and want.

Friday, February 04, 2011

Coffee Cup

I never put a coffee cup between me and the phone, there is always this area of beverage free zone in front it, not just for my sake but because sometimes other people have their grubby little hands on my phone.

So, I was asked to do a meeting for a job on Cambridge Street and that was about all the details I had to go on. I’m often thrown into the thick of things with no notice so I agreed to do the meeting, not that I really had any choice. Other folks were running late, so I greeted the people that showed up and walked them to the conference room.

There are two ways I handle not knowing anything, one is that I pretend that I know and usually I will learn enough along the way, two is that I just come clean and say that I only found out about this meeting yesterday and nobody told me anything.

These folks have dealt with my department before so I chose the latter.

“All I know about this job is that is on Cambridge Street,” I said hoping to get more information.

“We’ll actually it is on Market Street,” was the reply I received.

Seriously, I couldn’t have even been given the right street name? I would have rather been told nothing than something incorrect.


I feel I have more to say; but what that say might be: I do not know.

I open up Word and start to type. I transcribe my actions hoping that something will just come.

Nothing comes.

I walked by a button on the hallway floor, right by the bank of four elevators. I wondered if someone will look for it later. Nobody looks for buttons, except for right by their feet and if the button isn’t there, then the button is given up for lost.

I walked back to the button and picked it up. I wondered why I’m saving a button of unknown origin. I wondered if it is from a man’s clothing or a woman’s. I hope that the button brings me luck.

I don’t know how magic buttons work. Are all buttons magic? Most likely no button is magic.

I looked at the button to see if it is magic or not.

I could not tell.

I wondered when I would have something to type, something that would fill that need to say something. I thought about the button story. I then thought that the button story doesn’t so it for me. I thought that having people read this post is a mean trick because nothing will be said here today.

I wondered about when something would be said because a lot of what could be said will not be said.

I start to think about things and when I start to think about something new, the signal that my feet have been sending to my brain finally makes it through. My feet are telling me that they are cold. I think, “Sorry feet, but there is nothing I can do for you.”