They turned out pretty good, right?
A CD is coming.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Busy week hang over
Last week was a lot like Sunday at work.
It was busy. I was almost to my limit, four tables steady, and we were short handed and the shift leaders couldn't help too much. But I was keeping up with the work load, and then somebody asked if I could take a table. I really couldn't. But I did a math equation than led to me to saying yes.
Does any one know how bad I am at math?
I did this twice- gave myself a fifth table that led to being double-sat which led to A.D. taking the table from me, which led to a lot of...well I was upset with myself.
I was cut, I could have left, and then soneone asked if I wanted an eight person table (when I already had 4 tables,) and for some damn reason, I said yes. I put myself back on the board, and proceeded to loose another table to being far behind.
I may have to bend my rule that if someone asks me to work or take another table, I'll take it.
It was the closest I ever was to breaking down at work, and I'm fairly mentally tough.
I met my match and I didn't like it, there was physically too much work to do, and no one could help. Or I didn't ask hard enough.
I had already ran myself down, and was sick by wednesday night. I was literally stacked, and had to go grocery shopping at midnight after work because I was out of bread and eggs, (and I owed Tunde a six pack of woodchuck hard cider.) I skipped karate again on sunday because I still had work to do on the paper, the Michigan times.
Being stacked also led to me slacking a little at my internship and causing more work for someone who didn't really need or deserve it.
I really felt hung over monday morning, which is where it all ended, with shipping the paper out, and it looks grreeaat.
A lot of people are busy, but they're paid busy, Let's clarify this. 60% of why I'm busy is paid in experience, news clippings, and grades. That's as close to bitching as I want to get, ever.
The week's over, thank god. We won't even get into all the problems at the paper.
Hung out with Rebekah, played xbox- hitman 2. I'm dying to choke somone off with fiberwire in that game but it just hasn't happened.
So what's the f'ing point? I guess know your limit, and take care of yourself, if you don't you certainly can't help anyone else.
It was busy. I was almost to my limit, four tables steady, and we were short handed and the shift leaders couldn't help too much. But I was keeping up with the work load, and then somebody asked if I could take a table. I really couldn't. But I did a math equation than led to me to saying yes.
Does any one know how bad I am at math?
I did this twice- gave myself a fifth table that led to being double-sat which led to A.D. taking the table from me, which led to a lot of...well I was upset with myself.
I was cut, I could have left, and then soneone asked if I wanted an eight person table (when I already had 4 tables,) and for some damn reason, I said yes. I put myself back on the board, and proceeded to loose another table to being far behind.
I may have to bend my rule that if someone asks me to work or take another table, I'll take it.
It was the closest I ever was to breaking down at work, and I'm fairly mentally tough.
I met my match and I didn't like it, there was physically too much work to do, and no one could help. Or I didn't ask hard enough.
I had already ran myself down, and was sick by wednesday night. I was literally stacked, and had to go grocery shopping at midnight after work because I was out of bread and eggs, (and I owed Tunde a six pack of woodchuck hard cider.) I skipped karate again on sunday because I still had work to do on the paper, the Michigan times.
Being stacked also led to me slacking a little at my internship and causing more work for someone who didn't really need or deserve it.
I really felt hung over monday morning, which is where it all ended, with shipping the paper out, and it looks grreeaat.
A lot of people are busy, but they're paid busy, Let's clarify this. 60% of why I'm busy is paid in experience, news clippings, and grades. That's as close to bitching as I want to get, ever.
The week's over, thank god. We won't even get into all the problems at the paper.
Hung out with Rebekah, played xbox- hitman 2. I'm dying to choke somone off with fiberwire in that game but it just hasn't happened.
So what's the f'ing point? I guess know your limit, and take care of yourself, if you don't you certainly can't help anyone else.
Friday, February 6, 2009
Freezing to death=Funny?
He's been referred to as the "Bumcicle," because his legs were sticking out of the ice like "Popsicle sticks" when the Detroit News found him.
A most likely homeless man had frozen to death in an abandoned warehouse. The body was encased in 2-3 feet to ice. The people that found it didn't call the police. The person who tipped off the reporter for the Detroit News called the reporter first.
A copy editor from the Detroit News spoke to my copy editing class yesterday about the ethics of running a graphic picture of the scene. But humor, really shouldn't enter into that story. I understand "gallows humor," a joke during a decidedly sad time, but cracking jokes to my class about it...it's... unprofessional? Cold?
We can't empathize with everything that goes on around us. We can't stop and give money to every cause that asks for it. We can't react with utter horror and sadness each time a new round of death errupts somewhere far away. We as people can't take an emotional connection to everything. We experience overload, or in the cases with a lot of professionals, becoming jaded.
But there has to be respect.
This man died alone, in the dark, on the floor of an abandoned Detroit warehouse, and people call him the "Bumcicle." They laugh about it. There are more horrible ways to die, but this person's history and life story ended atop cardboard in the dark, with probably no one around.
I woke up this morning and the furnace had quit working. It was 55 degrees inside, and it felt like 30. Freezing to death seems like a horrible way to die.
http://www.detnews.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20090129/METRO08/901290400
This is the link to the story- hope it works.
A most likely homeless man had frozen to death in an abandoned warehouse. The body was encased in 2-3 feet to ice. The people that found it didn't call the police. The person who tipped off the reporter for the Detroit News called the reporter first.
A copy editor from the Detroit News spoke to my copy editing class yesterday about the ethics of running a graphic picture of the scene. But humor, really shouldn't enter into that story. I understand "gallows humor," a joke during a decidedly sad time, but cracking jokes to my class about it...it's... unprofessional? Cold?
We can't empathize with everything that goes on around us. We can't stop and give money to every cause that asks for it. We can't react with utter horror and sadness each time a new round of death errupts somewhere far away. We as people can't take an emotional connection to everything. We experience overload, or in the cases with a lot of professionals, becoming jaded.
But there has to be respect.
This man died alone, in the dark, on the floor of an abandoned Detroit warehouse, and people call him the "Bumcicle." They laugh about it. There are more horrible ways to die, but this person's history and life story ended atop cardboard in the dark, with probably no one around.
I woke up this morning and the furnace had quit working. It was 55 degrees inside, and it felt like 30. Freezing to death seems like a horrible way to die.
http://www.detnews.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20090129/METRO08/901290400
This is the link to the story- hope it works.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
...and then I thought, "I wish I had ice skates on."
I was to photograph people skating at a small out door ice rink in Grand Blanc. I arrived at dusk, and the light was low, and the shots were poor- although my strobe was working, and the subjects ( bunch of kids playing hockey) were willing. as Bruce Edwards would agree, I killed the photo's, not the strobe on my camera, or the fast lens and camera body I use.
So I returned the next day to the small but perfectly flat rink, which is no more than a section of field near a pavillion to try and re-shoot. No one was there, so the shoot was a bust, and I would have to run one of my less-than-perfect shots from the night before.
And then I thought, looking over the empty rink, "I wish I had ice skates on." It was perfect, sunny, and a generally nice winter day. Sometimes an open place to me is like a blank sheet of paper, a pile of copper wire, or a box of clay- I have to do something with it.
The same urge compells front flips in any open space I'm in. It's usually outside.
My mind is telling me to have more...kid fun. Not adult, go to the bar or a concert, but the kind of fun that leaves you soaked and tired and happy. It's time to go sledding, or ice skating.
I think I'll drag my sister out with me.
So I returned the next day to the small but perfectly flat rink, which is no more than a section of field near a pavillion to try and re-shoot. No one was there, so the shoot was a bust, and I would have to run one of my less-than-perfect shots from the night before.
And then I thought, looking over the empty rink, "I wish I had ice skates on." It was perfect, sunny, and a generally nice winter day. Sometimes an open place to me is like a blank sheet of paper, a pile of copper wire, or a box of clay- I have to do something with it.
The same urge compells front flips in any open space I'm in. It's usually outside.
My mind is telling me to have more...kid fun. Not adult, go to the bar or a concert, but the kind of fun that leaves you soaked and tired and happy. It's time to go sledding, or ice skating.
I think I'll drag my sister out with me.
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