friends: August 2004 Archives

maui, ho!

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On some cool people's advice, I did a bit of investigation on how to take the best scenic photos for Maui (leaving in four days, WOO!), and bought an adapter and polarizing filter for my Powershot G3 camera. I have a lens. I always said I wouldn't get a lens. I guess it's a filter, not a lens, but it's an attachy thing, and now I feel all photographer-like, like I should be crawling behind houses or underneath four-leaf clovers for the best shots while turning my lens - no, filter! - so it makes the thickest color differentiation.

Unfortunately I won't be crawling anywhere, because I've thrown my back out to Mars or something. I'm ALWAYS so careful when I lift things, but as I always suspected, newspapers will be the end of me. I had to recycle a load up to my knees, and bent over to pick some up the wrong way, and boom, back, gone, ow, pain.

After 10 days of hobbling around like an old woman and stinking out my office with my pot of Icy Hot (like Bengay), I finally went to the doctor. I had to wait two and a half hours before he felt my spine and said, "Here's a prescription for an anti-inflammatory, one for muscle relaxation, don't operate heavy machinery, see you if you're not better!"

The really pain-in-the-butt thing about all this is that on Friday I'll be on a plane for 13 hours, to Maui. Sitting for more than 15 minutes is excruciating, I must walk up and down the office to stretch it out. Now I'll be doing this on the plane and annoying the hell out of EVERYONE. The good news is the muscle relaxant might also knock me out, so yay, sleep on plane. My doc also wrote a note asking the airlines to upgrade me if possible so I have a little more room not only for the back but for the pacing, though he says it never works. Fingers crossed.

My new filter is cool. It comes in a little plastic case and works the same way sunglasses filter light through to your eyes. It's constructed with tiny tiny directional slats or something, because the color in the lens changes when you turn it. So the blue sky gets more blue, and the colors are just generally enhanced. It was recommended to me by Dave Tonnes, who took this stunning picture in Oahu. I was looking for pictures taken with my series camera on Hawaii, because I'm concerned about low light, sunsets, etc - all the most beautiful aspects of Hawaii scenery spelled danger on my digicam, or at least I thought they did. Kristin said she does most of that stuff on Photoshop, which is true, you can, but I always feel more comfortable doing the best I can with the shot and using the computer to enhance if necessary - it's complicated to apply changes in Photoshop just to select areas, I feel, and sometimes blanket changes make things weird or grainy or whatever. That's probably just my neuroses; all K's pics always come out so beautiful.

Look at me, talking like I know what I'm talking about. I don't. It's just fun. But I am going to be moving this blog onto Movable Type and then will make a nice photo album from Hawaii last year and Hawaii this year! So, I'm all sorts of psyched about getting great shots. This year instead of spikin' it down the Hana Highway I'm going to go a bit slower and visit some historic as well as scenic spots. My doc recommends against going in the ocean with my back (too cold, unpredicatble surfaces, both bad for back), so that solves my problem of leaving the camera on the beach or rocks while I dip (can't leave it in rental car - if anyone sees it in Maui they will definitely break the window for it. An Islander told me it was "what's mine is yours" mentality. Mentality! I call it theft!).

Anyway, what I need most of all is a few days basking in warmth and relaxation. These firefighters' sex scandal is not doing much for my blood pressure either.
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bye, puck

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I'm not a cat person. I'm not a cat person because cats tend not to like me, or to make me sneeze, or to leave their hair on me so that I have allergies for weeks.

Puck, who passed away yesterday, did all of these things. But I loved Puck.

I loved how insistent he was about being pet, how if he wanted love you had no choice but to give it to him. If you didn't, he kept you up all night. He'd walk over the keys or right over your face if he had to. When he was through being pet, he got up and walked away. If you annoyed him he batted you.

I loved that I could rub his tummy, but if I tried to do it a certain way he'd gnaw on my fingers instead. I loved his personality, which was at turns affectionate, inquisitive and aloof. He tried to eat my titanium computer. He tried to drink from the toilet.

If you were not Meg but very lucky or he was just in a good mood, he'd curl up next to you and lay there without needing more affection or attention. I liked that the best. Sometimes on Friday mornings, I would just be sleeping after Meg went to work, and I'd wake up to his triangular face staring right at me. It was never jarring. He would have already climbed right onto my chest and lain there waiting for me to wake up. I would scratch his ears and he'd turn his head so that I was scratching the best spot. Then he'd disappear under the bed and you'd never know he was there.

Meg is feeling like she didn't do enough for him. But I saw her dance with him, I saw her coo with him, I saw her hug and pet and feed and worry and play and smack around and nuzzle and love him. I saw him respond to her voice, and I saw him seek her out. I saw him happy when she came in the door and I saw him pissed that she had left. She would pet him absently with one hand and he'd stretch out blissfully under it.

My dog is nearing the end of her life, and the last few weeks have been rough; we sit expecting it, wondering if we should help it along, wishing it would just happen quickly so she didn't suffer. And during this time I've comforted myself with what I know: that my dog is loved and had a good life.

I can say the same for Puck.
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This page is a archive of entries in the friends category from August 2004.

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