Remember, Remember, the fifth of November
Anywhoooo . . . I went for a walk this morning for two reasons: 1) To test out my new camera and 2) To think. I’ve recently had something major happen and I’m pretty freaked out about it. I don’t want to say what it is because I have’t made any decisions yet and I know some of my options might be offensive to people. Not that I give a shit about your feelings.
Of course I give a shit about your feelings.
So you’ll all have to suffer while I huddle in secrecy and horror and an odd excitement and keep this to myself. The walk just made me more confused however, and I guess the only thing good out of it was that I see the limitations of my camera and the lens. Mostly the lens. I’m going to need a new one to do what I want. It was definitely worth the money, I’m not regretting my purchase, and it works flawlessly to the average person . . . but I see flaws in the flawless, so I’m going to need a new one. Like a 70-300mm.
But um, Best Buy, I’m not paying 499.99 dollars for it. Ebay, here I come.
Sure hope I get called for that job soon.
I went for a stroll on the beach first and saw some awesome cranes, but I couldn’t get close enough without freaking them out and my lens couldn’t zoom enough for the shot I wanted, so I said fuckk ’em and headed out to the water. Besides, a lady walked past with her stupid loud mouth dog and scared them all to hell.
The water was nice.
I can see that with any art you have to define yourself. Nature is easy to take pictures of, it’s naturally beautiful and people always swoon over it. I’m still getting used to this camera and thinking visually instead of . . . in words . . . so bare with me on this journey. Today was more like me pressing buttons and hoping I don’t break it. Some people read manuals; I don’t have the attention span or the memory space for all that.
It took me a couple weeks to figure out what kind of mental health blogger I wanted to be; you know, sarcastic, hilarious, amazingly informative, and in your face. It’s going to take me much longer to figure out what kind of photographer I am, what I really suck at (mostly everything) and what I’m alright at, and what I want to put my energy into.
It’s really cold. My hands are numb on this keyboard. All you people who live around snow are probably laughing and calling this Californian chick a wimp, but shut up, November is cold and my circulation sucks. I need to exercise, alright?
Anyway, I went into this forest area.
I tried to get a photo of a squirrel but it raced up the tree, then I saw this dude on his bike in the shadows staring at me. Scared the fuck out of me, not to mention it was slightly embarrassing because I’d been talking to myself. Anyway, he was staring. It was weird. So as relaxed as I wanted to be among the silent musings of the trees, and as confident as I am in my fighting skills (try me, bitch), I spent the majority of my walk paranoid as fuck.
I swear I heard his bike tires in the trees. I heard him get on it behind me too and he rode in the opposite direction I walked: there are two paths and they meet at the same place. I figured he went down the other way just so he could meet me in the brush and potentially murder me.
If you don’t have woods in your area, and you’ve never walked through a forest where you can hear the patter of Chickadee steps across the dirt, than you wouldn’t understand how the environment only added to my hyper-awareness. Every crack of a branch or tweet of a bird or rustle of a leaf in the wind I readied my fist to punch that dude in the teeth. Whenever I turned my back to the path to take a picture, I envisioned that fucker leaping out of the bushes at me and hitting me in the back of the head before I even had a chance to hit him in the nuts. If you’re going to come after me, at least let me have a chance to hit you in the nuts.
A lot of druggies hang out around this path because there’s a drain where they can take shelter for the night. I was the only other person walking the paths. I have a camera worth a good 400 dollars in my hand (although, I didn’t pay that). It’s not as if my paranoia was unjustified.
However, spinning on my heels every five seconds because a bird slammed into a leaf somewhere is a little exhausting.
If I wouldn’t have seen that guy, would I have been thinking those thoughts? Most likely. He just made it worse. I’ve recently learned I have safety issues; I don’t feel safe anywhere, it contributes to why I hate going outside. There’s a lot of thick bushes back there, anyone could be hiding–even a mountain lion–and there aren’t any houses around so no one would hear me screaming. After all the examples I’ve seen of The Bystander Effect, even if someone did hear me scream, they probably wouldn’t waste their breath picking up the phone and dialing emergency services.
Towards the end of my walk I kind of jogged because the noises in the bushes were getting louder. I’d walk really fast, see a picture, snap it as quick as possible, spin around and check the bushes, then walk/jog until I came to another picture. So I’m pretty sure I looked like I was on crack. I’m kind of glad no one else was around.
Crack is Wack, Yo.
As I reached the end, a branch snapped off and fell in the path behind me and I almost screamed. A stupid squirrel scrambled along another branch after having saved itself from plummeting to the ground with the one it broke. Damn squirrels man, always messing with me. If they’re not staring at me like weirdos, they’re causing a bunch of ruckus. Just like a toddler.
I’m ready to go back to sleep. Too bad I have class later tonight. Ugh.
Just to let you know, I fought for two hours with my phone and my internet to get these pictures up. Two hours consisting of a lot of cursing and a lot of slapping and a lot of promising to rip someones eyeballs out and feed them to the cranes on the beach.
I tend to make general threats to nobody in particular when I get angry at technology.
If only I videoed myself.
Fuck, could you imagine how long it would take a video to load?
The thought makes my skin crawl.