The smaller of the two books I ordered from Apple through iPhoto arrived today. While I knew it was the small book, I did not realize quite how small it was. The measurements are right there, my brain just did not quite parse and register their meaning. A similar thing happened two Christmases ago when I ordered the Mark Ryden book for the show then. I saw the picture and leather binding, but failed to recognize the whole thing is less than palm-sized when I placed my order.
…speaking of which, I completely failed to see the Mark Ryden showing in Seattle this weekend with the gang. Mostly, it had to do with a lack of cash and a rushed feeling. It seemed like there was a bunch of things everyone wanted to do, but only a day, minus travel time, to do them in.
Sunday, Kim, Brandon, and I visited the Portland Art Museum. I now think our museum visits have officially made the annual pass more than worth it. Yes, there was a lot of new and interesting stuff there. The crazy fun was the bus ride there–the driver was wacky, driving a million miles an hour, and shooting oncoming traffic with her soap bubble pistol. We got the same driver on the way home. Later, we ended up at the Bonfire which, that night, seemed to have quite a few burlesque photos adorning the walls. Brandon's burrito may have had soy sauce.
The two things that freak the cats out more than anything else in the world: the grinder in the automatic coffee maker and the whistle of the tea kettle. If it were up to the kitties, I would never have any caffeine.
Things you rarely hear at work, unless you work in a doctor's office, male strip club, or hardware company: “Let's go inspect your unit.”