jessi says i need a title for this post

I suppose that at some point I had better try to jump-start a more regular blogging schedule. In case your spiritual gifts do not include the grasping of the obvious, the reason for my pre-grandma post hiatus was that I was spending several hours a day at the hospital. And then, post-grandma post (I just wanted to say that), my countenance had fallen and I had a midterm and a few other things that make me sound like a whiny undergrad.

My family is doing pretty well. Martha's still having a rough time, so I would greatly appreciate your continued prayers. Unless of course you don't believe in God, in which case you should probably just send us money, because otherwise you're not really doing us much good now are you? And Martha, as her son after her, always enjoys a bit of retail therapy.

And you could also send me money because I'm going into debt with this latest bright idea of mine.

We (the royal we) have managed to acquire for ourselves a gallery opening. For those of you in L-Town, it's the same place where the youngest Harrison progeny has been displaying her work as of late. For those of you who are flying in from outside the country to attend, it's called La Diosa cellars. It should be a cool scene. If only I knew of a beautiful automated test script developer who could dj the opening.

So Wednesday afternoon, I take some slides, negatives, and digital files to be printed at the finest camera and photo-finishing store in the Central timezone, Armadillo Camera. I was in such a hurried frenzy to get this done, having only confirmed the venue the previous day, that I forgot to inquire as to the price.

Later that night, I became concerned that the price for so many enlargements might be prohibitavely expensive. "Oh no," thought myself, "it could be as much as $100 or $120! I hope I can scrounge up the funds to cover that."

Indeed I did, and on Friday I went to pick up the prints, strutting up to the counter, beaming like the artiste that I am.

"Let's see... after your bulk print discount... and then after tax... you total comes to $227.30"

I had grossly underestimated the expense of my reprints. When I saw that it was so expensive, I halfway expected that I had unknowingly opted into printing them on panda fur or something. It's hard to explain exactly what I did. Have you ever watched soap operas? Not like The O.C. or Falcon Crest, but the real deal, like Days of Our Lives, or The Young and the Restless?

So you know when they transition between scenes, somebody has to make that face? That mix of confused, perplexed, and busted that Kate might display when Brandon accuses her of drugging him and Sammy and putting them in bed together the night before Sammy and Lucas' wedding. You know what I'm talking about.

Try it. First you flare your nostrils. Then you either open your eyes as wide as possible or squint them down really tiny. Then, and this part requires the most finese, you keep you focus locked on the person who's accusing you of something, or who is telling you that he/she is infertile or adopted or whatever, and then you slowly move your head laterally 35 degrees or so while taking a breath and pushing out your chest.

It's like they're thinking to themselves, "the pizza guy's here, and I don't have any money... how am I going to pay for this pizza?"

Actually, they're thinking, "I'm a buffoon because I ordered $230 worth of prints and I have barely over a hundo to pay for them. Moron." So I did my best to play it cool by stroking my chin and saying, "hmm... I don't think I have quite that much cash. Could you write down that amount for me so I can get a little more?"

And by quite that much I meant none since I was planning on paying with a check, and by a little more I actually meant almost twice as much as I have to my name. So after a call to Big Jer, and a promise that he could have the $200 that Law Review is (probably never going to) pay me, I had the cash to pay for reprints that were so expensive I suspect that they must have been done by the reanimated corpse of Ansel Adams.

It's also worth noting that a friend of mine will be showing a few pieces along with my photographs. And since only like two of you know who Chad Plunket is, I'll just say that this guy is the real deal. He has a Masters degree in art, and he is currently teaching art at Tech, so unlike me, he is not a poser. It is my sincere hope that my photographs will gain artistic credibility merely by hanging in the same room as Chad's installation sculpture bronzy thingies.

Kinda like that girl you know who's not all that hot but who hangs out with that one girl who's really hot, i.e., hot by association. Perhaps I've said too much.