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People, when they see pictures of the dogs, are always asking me the same question. “How do you tell them apart?” Which, aside from them being different sizes, with different coloration and different bone structure… duh. How do you tell your wee screaming children apart, dork?

But aside from knowing which one I am looking at, I also know which one is barking, by the sound. That’s a huge difference. And I would know Bruiser by her little doggy smell alone. And I know which one is sitting at the side of the bed crying to be picked up in the middle of the night because they all cry differently. And I even know without looking which one just jumped up and rested their little paws on my leg when I am sitting at my computer, by how hard they hit me. They all jump on me differently too.

Last time I went to my parent’s house my Dad came up with this sensitive bit of assholery: “Every time I see Bruiser she looks older.” Which, thanks for that. It’s both inane and hurtful. Yes, she’s getting older, and one day she’ll die. And I need no reminder of that because when that happens I am afraid I might die too. I’ve had her for 6 years now, and yeah she’s gone pretty gray. I compare pictures from then to how she looks now and it’s startling to see how she’s gone all white in the muzzle, and grown this white stripe on her back. And since she was a stray I have no way to know how old she is, or how long I might have left with her - if one could predict such things.

I likewise esteem people who, when meeting the three of them, say things like “Oh, she’s an old one, huh?” (Which I would like to say about their grandma, or maybe their mother, sometimes.)

Anyway, just meditating this morning on the way you get to know the creatures with which you live, and how comforting that can be, esp. when other people don’t fudge it up with their dense commentary.

I had to smallinate this for posting here, so click on it to go there where it’s from.

I want a box.

OH! The things I would holler.

I forget what this effect is called, it’s a forced-perspective trick in PS where you make your shot look as if it’s of scale models. Anyway, it’s fun and it works best on shots taken from up high. I thought this shot I took out the window of the courthouse last week would be perfect.

Original after jump.

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What an aggravating day I’ve had. Of course over silly, petty inconsequential things—that’s a given. But aggravating nonetheless.

Got up this morning feeling achey and useless from all the yard work I ended up doing yesterday afternoon. Stumbled around for an hour or two, then decided to go run errands. I needed to get some frames for the (v. cool) Todd Klein prints I bought a few weeks ago, and needed a new cord to make my stereo’s turntable hook up to my computer, since the $20 one from ebay only makes loud hummy noises when I plug it in.

First I went to Michael’s craft store at 55 & Lindbergh. I hate fucking Michael’s craft fucking stores. Every branch I go into is populated with slack-jawed moronic scrapbookers, and everyone who works there is possessed of the most ridiculously unjustified asshole attitude. I mean, it’s not even a COOL store, but the women there are always unholy bitches. Their management must really suck to make every person who works there act such an unremitting c*nt. Anyway, I get there and I need to buy frames for two 11×17″ prints. I planned to get two 16×20″ frames and mats cut to 11×17″. Simple, right? No such fucking luck, of course, since it’s ME we’re talking about. Turns out that 16×20 frames come with 11×14 mats, not 11×17. No worries, I will buy an unmatted frame and a mat separately to fit. Right? Find out after the jump. Continue reading »