phar

WikiHow's That?

2007-04-01T20:47:00.000-07:00

I've turned to WikiHow to offer advice on my deck garden. Specifically, the article How to Grow a Tomato Plant.

I didn't find it that helpful. Well, it might be helpful if I were growing more plants in an actual yard, rather than just a few plants in some too-small deck boxes. I think my dreams of a summer of sweet, vine-ripened tomatoes has been a bit of an over-reach on my part. I still have high-hopes for the beefsteak, though. It already has a few flowers on it. Of course, I have several tomatoes in the fridge right now that I've yet to eat. Why is it so hard to get fresh veg into my daily diet? (If you answered laziness, you'd be right!)

I walked over to the local hardware store today. Lots of interesting things there. I picked up a book on the history of Midtown ('cause that's the kind of thing one usually acquires from one's local hardware store), a wire frame that was supposed to hold one of the flower boxes on the deck railing (way too small, however, so back it goes tomorrow), one tomato cage, 3 stakes, and one role of garden tape. I don't know how to set up the cages and stakes, nore do I know if they'll be big enough, too big, or if the plants will even live that long to need any of it anyway.

Other deck garden developments include: a few sprouts popping up in the sunflower mystery box (don't recall what I chucked in, we'll see what comes out!); the yellow daisy-like flowering bush still looks a bit scrawny; I cut some of the ranunculus blossoms to enjoy inside and now it isn't looking so hot; I planted some pansies in the remaining, light avocado colored box, plus two extras that wouldn't fit in a silver planter I've had forever.

Indoors, I finally planted the little Pottery Barn pots with basil, lavender, and sunflower seeds. I didn't exactly mark them, however, so I have 4 semi-mysterious containers in the kitchen window. Two have tiny green sprouts pushing up through the soil. Two have . . . a whole lot of nothing. I have no idea what to do with them once they grow bigger. If they grow bigger.

So this is what I do now: I fake gardening and I walk around town. And I'm occasionally funny.

I like the warmer weather, that's for sure.

The gardening I blame solely on loving an Englishman with green-thumbed relatives.

See, this is what worries me

2007-01-31T15:48:00.000-08:00

THE GOWN / Strapless Begone! / Wherein our correspondent rethinks the popularity of barely there wedding dresses

I love this article like a codependent loves her enabler.

London stuff that looks cool (besides Harrods)

2006-04-06T13:12:00.000-07:00

Rob's mum brought home a brochure about London Walks - a whole mess of London walking tours covering every conceiveable interest from murder to pubs to politics to America.

We think we'll arrive just in time to catch this Old Knightsbridge Village Pub Walk and then see if we can fit in another walk over the weekend if we like Friday's.

But we already have a list of like 3000 museums and sites. Plus our tea reservations. Plus Palm Sunday services.

)And Mom, yes, I'll take the damn grayline tour, but it might not happen this weekend. I don't mind doing those alone, but musueums are more fun with a friend.)

On cameras

2006-09-19T23:25:00.000-07:00

Here kitty, kitty..., originally uploaded by adlers.

I didn't take this photo - I'm blogging it from my sister's flickr account. But it illustrates the point of this post: do I need a new camera?

This photo was taken with a Panasonic DMC-FZ20 - one of 'em schmancy digital SLR cameras that today's flickrati seem so keen on. But is it too schmancy for a lazy photog like me? Most of my favorite photos are happy accidents among a field of blurred and botched intended photos.

A few years ago, my dad got me my first digital camera at Costco. I accepted the offer of a camera somewhat reluctantly because I believed then - and still do to some extent - that real film gets you real photos, and digital just can't compare. But digital is cheap, film is expensive, and I am cheap. So the pairing seemed obvious.

Now, 7945 photos later, I've bonded with my little Nikon E2100. I've got my 2 megapixels - do I need more? Sure, 3 is a magic number, but me and my 2 megapixels, we do fine on our own. Plus, since I never bothered to get a proper case for the camera, it's developed the sort of patina of love that has probably trebled its value in an Antiques Roadshow kind of way. The lens cover only fully closes if I flick at it, sure, and the lens needs cleaning desparately, but it takes some damn fine photos - I know how to use it, why give up that level of comfort?

The one thing I certainly couldn't live without is the extreme close-up focusing abilities that get me those great flower, food, and odd-angled shots. Do the fancy SLRs do that? If not, you can keep your fancy optics.

Between Rob, Mr. John, Jason, Sandra, and my dad, I'm certainly not at a loss of qualified consultants - and I'd really want to put some careful time and consideration into the selection of something so obviously important to me. The question remains, however: do I need something better and do I want it either way?

Jacqui and Chris's animal shots are persuasive - that kind of zoom and focus doesn't come on my coolpix model. But then again, look at Rob's sonycam photos - that thing doesn't even zoom and it's fantastic. It's the camera and the eye, isn't it. Can't upgrade the eye.

Then again, I did just get contacts. How does that change this tortured analogy?

Suggestion Box

2006-03-06T01:27:00.000-08:00

I sent out an email to some friends and family letting them know about this site and my upcoming trip. In it, I mentioned that I'd love any restaurant advice or don't-miss destination advice. So this is the suggestion box post. I'll leave it specially linked in the sidebar so that if anyone thinks of anything later, this post will be easy to find and use for offering travel tips. You can leave a comment by clicking the number next to the post title. If the comments moderation function feels like working, your comment may not appear right away, but be [99%] assured that your comment is waiting in my inbox for approval and will appear on the site after a click or two on my part. I hate having to use the moderation feature, but spammers got ahold of a Phubar post and it was not pretty - this special non-Blogger template is a tad less secure than regular Blogger template pages because the word verification feature won't work with it (though if anyone has a hack for getting it to work, please let me know).

Thanks in advance for your suggestions! I can't wait to visit your favorite haunts and sample your favorite food!

The best of weeks, the worst of weeks

2007-01-11T23:54:00.000-08:00

I think makes me feel better.

It's 11:44pm on Thursday night. I meant to be sleeping almost 2 hours ago, but instead I made a final - okay, three final - checks of the I-129F application. I found one typo which changes my morning timeline. My dad sent me an updated letter of support to include, so there'd have been more hole-punching and assembling anyway.

This journey back to college application times has been great, but I cannot wait to get this puppy in the damn mail and get going on the waiting.

According to the above link, the average wait time from filing to interview (ah, the United States Department of State: the promised land) is 212 days. Based on a 30 day month, that's 7.33 (with that little line over the 3) months. That's about what our lawyer said too.

In other news, the laws of man are negotiable, but we're going to have some laws of god issues. That whole "let no man put assunder" clause - turns out that's important. I'll save the plot twists, but I'm feeling the need to start letting go of my vision of getting married at my church. They'd probably have been booked anyway. It's bothering me more than I expected, though I can't say for sure why yet. I know it is partly because Sacred Heart was the one part of my wedding day I was pretty sure about - unlike, well, everything else from dress to food to size. But our guiding word has been "faith" for quite awhile now and I'm not going to ditch it now. There's always a way.

If Elvis marries us through a drive-in window, the meaning of what we're doing won't change. We marry each other. Like in that first stab at a wedding in Much Ado About Nothing. Maybe not the best example given how well that ceremony went, but you know what I mean. Or you don't and you should call your lit prof and apologize.

Now to sleep. Tomorrow to the post office.

Is it wrong to want one of these?

2007-01-08T22:45:00.000-08:00

I know I can kinda make my own websites - but, but - this is a nifty build-your-own-to-order wedding website site. Some friends have one and I was immediately kind of smitten. Their witty content didn't hurt, of course. Can't really copy that. Will I ever get around to building my own? Is there a point to buying one of theirs - offered for specific time blocks - when I have no idea how long it will be until the big day?

It can play music too. I hate websites that play music when you navigate to them - and do so without warning. But maybe it doesn't have to be automatic?

Yeah, I want one.

A few of my favorite things

2007-01-08T22:29:00.000-08:00

I bought an ipod clock radio on sale at Target the other day. It's green and sleek and modern. My ipod docks comfortably on the top and it has a digital tuner. I'm not sure the screen won't glow too brightly as I try to sleep tonight, but it's too soon to tell.

I'm not sure the sound quality is enough to use it as a replacement stereo. I'm not sure the sound quality isn't too good to use it as a replacement clock-radio.

I thought it would sound good enough so that I could finally phase out my old, black stereo system. The old system's 3 CD changer doesn't really work so well anymore. There's no where to plug in the pod. The speakers are half blow. More to the point, I haven't plugged it in or set it up or used it in, oh, 10 months or so. I haven't used it since I bought its first replacement. Which, oh yeah, has been used only a handful of times, but resides appropriately in the living room for all the large, well-attended parties I throw.

But the real stumbling block here applies to the old clock radio as well. That antiquated equipment has a faux wood housing, super-faded red numbers, and an analog tuner with mono speakers that yields scratchy, yet reliable wake-up calls. Alarm 1 doesn't work. It's alarm two or nothing.

Here's where we stumble: both old stereo and old clock radio have been there for me. Old stereo was an unexpected Christmas gift from my parents during my senior year of high school - one of my first dorm nesting gifts. It saw me through college as I lugged it from dorm to dorm and abused it with all manner of bad musical choices. It still sounds okay, if not forced to compete with much else. It has a tape deck, for pete's sake. What if I need to listen to some of my old tapes? The history of music according to Len - those are historic documents that will be lost to the ages. Old stereo is an artifact. A piece of history.

And old clock radio! It's an Emerson - are those even made anymore? Its plastic front is cracked. It barely tunes to a station and it hardly stays there. But we start every day together. Sure, a few days it has exercised its discretion unwisely and caused me to miss class or picking Amanda up on time for the gym. Clock radio has roused me for exams. It has woken me for trips. It's been there, dammit. Now some upstart shiny green thing wants in - I don't think so.

Of course, the relevant fact here is that old stereo and old clock radio are inanimate objects. The don't feel bad. Right? This was like that time I got new backpack and turned my, uh, back on old backback senior year. Didn't need new backpack, still bought it. This doesn't happen with new clothes or new shoes. But new things - I just feel so. . . guilty. Buyer's remorse, right?

I still have time to return the green box. Doesn't sound so great anyway. Even if it's a really good price.

And if you only knew how long I'd spent at Target debating the sensible silver box or the shiny green box . . . .

Free samples

2007-01-05T21:49:00.000-08:00

USCIS Example Forms

Seem useful. We'll let you know.

I'm gathering that I've been worrying the statement of intent to marry a bit much though. I was going to compose something epic. Apparently a simple, I can and am going to marry Rob, cuts it fine.

Wondering

2007-01-05T21:42:00.000-08:00

This site seems semi-helpful and mostly up to date.

One (of many) problems with the current I-129F form is that it asks for these things that, by all accounts, including our lawyer's, are no longer required. In fact, they are not just not required, they are unwanted. Number one on this list: old form "Adit" photos - I don't even know what that term means, but I think it means the kind of photo that the instruction form very, very clearly asks for - 3/4 view. They want full-frontal action now. So what gives?

Well, crap, can't rush these things. If I weren't so lazy, I'd dig up the post linking to an article about the thousands of couples who were shelved for having incomplete applications after USCIS found them deficient for failing to include information which USCIS never asked for. Get it? Congress passed a law that basically boiled down to a requirement for 2 questions to be added to the I-129F: did a marriage broker set you up and oh, by the way, have you stopped beating your wife. But USCIS didn't get the questions added to the forms (admin law, ah the review process, etc etc) by the time the law took effect and - PRESTO! - instant non-compliance by thousands who had no way of knowing they weren't complying.

As with the previous visa issues - my head spins because there's a basic standard to prove, ample discretion, but little exercising of that discretion. What do Rob and I have to prove? That we're in a bona fide relationship.

Anyone have a question about that? No, didn't think so. But we have to show the US government in the way they want to be shown. Trouble is, they don't give the best instructions. Or they do and I've just been in school way, way too long. It probably only take the two of us to change a lightbulb, but the number of lawyers and engineers required to correctly assemble this petition is far, far greater.

Applying myself: It's possible that this is what I've been preparing for my whole life.

2007-01-05T21:27:00.000-08:00

My high school journalism teacher - one of the nicest and perpetually happy people I've ever met - told me the two most important decisions of your life are where you go to college and who you marry. At the time, I had just chosen to attend Claremont McKenna College. That certainly did turn out to be an important decision; one of the better I've made in my life, in fact. But getting there required one hell of an application. I recall there being much filling in of blanks and the reworking of a personal statement as well as an entire separate essay that literally made me weep with frustration and then with emotion.

So now we've come to decision two: who you marry.

And guess what I'm doing.

Filling out an application.

Unfortunately, this time around, I'm not surrounded by 103 classmates working on the same or similar application. It's like studying for the bar alone again.

I had the college application process down to an art. There was a post-board chart with dates and components. Color-coded markers and post-its. A file box. Hell, I should've started a business back then. I mean, I was ON THE BALL.

Everything old is new again: I sat and performed minor surgery on scraps of paper this evening, shrinking text for a particular visa form question to fit the space provided. It was a fillable pdf, yet the text wouldn't wrap so you could type all you wanted, but you'd only see the first 200 characters. Then I went four rounds with Rob over whether it was complete enough. Should I put "see attached" and less-briefly explain how we met and chronicle our visits over the past year and a half? Should I let the rest of the evidence provided flesh out the story?

If you google up I-129F or K1 visa or combinations thereof along with the word "sample" you get a mixed bag of advice - including many testimonials that are badly outdated. Anything pre-9/11 or bridging the pre-post world is suspect. Still helpful, but suspect.

Is the second-person narrative of this post bothering anyone else yet? Too late to change it all now.

I want our lawyer to be available for this sort of stuff. Of course, being a lawyer now, seeing the (wo)man behind the curtain, knowing that we aren't magic stores of omnipotence, well, I can't see the point in paying more for information that might be no better than what we've cobbled together from the advice we got from the first chunk of change and the 'net and stuff. I really should start another Pho spin-off. There's help to be given and stories to be shared.

But as much as the process frustrates me, it's made me oddly nostalgic. As I tab through pdfs, condense fonts, and reach for the scissors and glue stick, I'm suddenly back in high school, racing desk chairs around a Kinkos while shrinking text book questions and answers to barely legible proportions for study sheets. I'm plowing through college apps. I'm taking pleasure in the infinitely satisfying task of correctly filling in my name, my address, my birthday. I'm fretting about blank spots in my employment history. I'm wondering whether additional pages will be welcomed by admissions officers seeking depth and personality or rejected by Stanford because they made a four page application and they meant a four page application.

I am scared of over-thinking or underestimating this process. Our lawyer's suggestion to Rob was that he tell me not to be a lawyer as I move through these forms. My bigger worry, however, is that I'll be myself. And if we've learned nothing else in our relationship with the USCIS, DHS, and State Department so far, we've learned that my eager, dedicated public servant nerddom does me no good here. There's no points for effort, only reward for getting it right.

Big Day

2007-01-03T20:45:00.000-08:00

No, not mine. No date yet.

The TV show, "Big Day," is a 24-style chronicle of a young couple's wedding. It isn't really that good - though it has its moments. The character that speaks most to me, however, is the groom, rather than the bride. He runs a summer camp. In the DVR-ed episode I am watching right now, the groom is visiting his almost father-in-law's hospital where he runs into a former CIT who credits camp counselor groom with giving him the confidence he needed to become a doctor.

Ah, summer camp . . . bless it.

Useful Summary Not Provided By The Government

2007-01-02T11:32:00.000-08:00

Navigating USCIS is going to be fun - I can tell already. Their website and selection of forms with lengthy yet incomplete instructions is, well, incomplete. And length.

Some googling yeilds additional information. It may be slightly out of date (the application fee is too low, for example), but it gives an overview of the basic process that I believe is correct.

As for the requested evidence - ticket stubs, passport stamps, photos - well, USCIS - ask and ye shall receive. Finally - validation for our pack-rat behavior, and a reason to be glad for never having gotten around to putting all these things in a scrapbook.

Tottenham Court Road Tube Station

2006-12-30T06:40:00.000-08:00

Tottenham Court Road tube station, originally uploaded by Phoblog.

I loved the brightly colored mosaics in the tube station. I didn't do them real justice with the camera, but I like this shot. Of course, it's my usual, isn't it? A wall sign, at an angle? Still like it though.

Good news, bad news

2006-12-21T09:10:00.000-08:00

On moolah:

Good news: Robbie is rich in America!

Bad news: I'm poorer than ever before in the UK!

Finally - a post to bridge the Phar-Phubar gap

2006-04-06T09:59:00.000-07:00

Colin offers a link to the debate over whether British judges should continue wearing white wigs.

He chooses a rather cheeky title for his post, "I think it's cute that Britain is trying to join civilization," to which I'm fairly sure all Britons would respond, "Uh, we invented it."

And the shoe update: On a shopping trip to Ipswich town with Rob's mum today, I learned that I wear between an 8 and a 9 UK size, or a 42 or so in European sizes. At Marks & Spencer I found some cute, tiny-heeled, round-toe black suede shoes. At Next, I found some cute, tiny-heeled, black leather pointy-toe shoes, but they didn't have my size. They can be ordered. Problem: suede in a rainy country = problem; tiny-heeled in charmingly cobbled country = problem; crappy ass exchange rate turning 30 GBP shoes that would be $30 shoes into $50 shoes = big problem.

London and Italy await . . . must . . . resist. . . .

I love this kid

2006-12-18T22:39:00.000-08:00

Weary

2006-12-18T22:37:00.000-08:00

That might be a bit of a dramatic word, but right now, it seems apt.

I spent the evening building a bed for the spare room. Another Ikea creation - which means a few hours (actually, probably just an hour and a half or so) crawling around the floor with a hexagonal wrench and a bunch of bits of unfinished wood. I had to whip out the power drill at one point to screw in some of the beams. Thanks, Dad, for that piece of equipment - my thumb blisters would be even worse without it.

There were some extra pieces at the end - is that bad? I kid, but only sort of. There were some cross pieces of metal - but as far as my structural engineering genius could tell, they were meant to square the fame and provided no support. I really hope so, anyway. There were no pre-drilled holes to attach these pieces - as far as I could tell, anyway. It seemed, then, that if I attached them in the wrong place at the wrong angle, it was going to, uh, unsquare the bed frame - hold it at an old angle. Who knows. If it falls apart, I guess we'll know.

I unfurled the tightly packed foam mattress and it seemed both flatter and smaller than I thought it'd be. Ah, yes, reading the included note, I learned that it takes 72-96 hours for the thing to plump back up to its original dimensions. It looks larger already. It smells funny. Kind of like paint or something sythetic and chemical. The note says that's normal too and that time and vacuuming can alleviate it. We'll see. It's noticeable, but bearable at this point. Too bad it's too cold to open the windows for more air.

Sarah helped me move some furniture around. The desk is now in my bedroom where the dresser used to be. The dresser, in turn, is in the bedroom next to the bed. The stupid loveseat/sofabed is still in the room and taking up entirely too much space. Perhaps I'll try to craigslist it later on. I don't need it. I don't even necessarily want it anymore. Seems wasteful to junk it. It isn't hurting anything right now, so it can stay. A wee bit croweded, sure, but bearable.

The closet is *mostly* emptied at this point. My border will have to deal with a few items in the room that are mine. There's still a bookcase full of stuff in there too. I could move the whole thing to my room. I could also move the contents downstairs, crowd the bigger bookcase a bit more, and leave her some shelves. I'm supposed to meet with her tomorrow - I'll find out her space needs and what she can deal with until I get home.

I've washed the new bedding (Target, flannel, cute, cheery stripes [there's going to be, perhaps, a bit too much color in this room - let's call it "eclectic," eh?], but perhaps designed for deeper pocket mattress. Lots of tucking in its future; plus a new duvet and cover, from Ikea.) As soon at the mattress smells less like itself, I'll make the bed and the room will look worlds cozier. I probably should've bought a new mattress pad, but I didn't. I'll get to it later. I think I also need to make sure the mattress is rotated regularly, though how regularly, I've no idea. I see a phone call to Ikea in my future.

The loveseat is covered in Christmas presents and various other things that will have to be safely, efficiently packed by Friday. Well, by Thursday really. Oh, there should be some room for clothes too, I suppose. Details, details. And still no sign of Robbie's present. It's purely a race at this point: FedEx vs. The Clock. He has some other things coming his way, of course, but I really hope the star of the show turns up in time.

In other areas - the travel plans are moving along according to tradition. This means my head is aching, my stomach is full of ill-tempered butterflies, and my head is a dark, dark place full of worst case scenarios that I try to chase away as soon as they start to form.

Oh - and the We Are Marshall ads? Not helping . . . .

Cultivating this level of fear and apprehension take a lot out of a girl, let me tell you. And please don't leave "chin up" comments. I know the ins and outs of both aeronautics and my phobia. Once again, as with every pre-flight ramp up, I am awed by those who can just get up and go.

At least I have my happy pills.

Someone is going to use that statement against me someday, aren't they? Legal and doctor prescribed kids, legal and doctor prescribed.

So maybe weary is the best word after all. I'm very tired. It's 10:32pm and I haven't heard from Amanda yet. I also haven't called her. Which means we're both looking at our phones thinking "okay, I get to sleep if she doesn't call. But I should call. I'll wait, maybe she'll call." Sleep over gym! And Robbie gets to sleep this morning - it sounds like he's working on a good head cold. Fabulous. Not surprising though - he's been go go go for the past few weeks.

The key to the rest of the week then: the right balance of crazy busy and crazy calming. I have to occupy myself, yet leave enough time for all the chores that need to get done.

Weary. Yeah. Weary. But all will be better soon.

More cooking with Phoblog

2006-12-10T00:27:00.000-08:00

Today I made this focaccia recipe, except without the vegetable and cheese topping, fennel seeds, or basil, and with whole wheat flour instead of regular flour, and fresh rosemary from my "gardent" - and by garden I mean box of dirt outside my front door.

It turned out pretty well, actually. Cooked about 10 minutes faster than the recipe said, and came out just slightly heavier than it probably should have. But with a brushing of olive oil, some salt, and fresh rosemary on top, the finished baked product was tasty. No photos this time.

Tomorrow is cookie day as I practice some recipes and bake gifts for my officemates.

All while I was making focaccia, I couldn't help but think about morning breakfasts in Vernazza: strong cafe with a fresh slice of focaccia with tomato and mozzarella, sprinkled with herbs and tasting of salt air and freedom. Without the sea view, mine couldn't be as good.

What I want in a camera

2006-11-29T23:36:00.000-08:00

So, I bid adieu to the Casio today, returning it to Target. Turning its sleek body over in my hand, I felt some hesitation, but in the end, I think I made the right choice. I didn't save too much, net, however, since I bought some diploma frames (see Flickr page). I also didn't return the shuffle, which is happily charging off this machine even as I type. It's cute and I am excusing the impulse purchase on health grounds. It's good for working out. Now I will work out daily, better than ever, and drop 10 by Chrimbo. Believe me?

I stopped to play with some other cameras after seeing an Olympus advertised on sale. Played with this one a bit. Still not macrofied adequately for my tastes. Played with the Coolpix L3 and L6 - both had shortcomings, sadly.

Here's what I think I want most:

1.) Killer macro abilities - as good as my current coolpix 2100. Does more megapixels = decreased macro ability?

2.) Wheel-type (as opposed to digital on-screen menu) function selection. (There can still be some in the camera accessible via the menu, but you know what I mean, right?)

3.) Runs on batteries. The regular kind, not the wall-charged kind. From a practical point of view, having to stop to plug in and recharge just doesn't jive with the reasons one purchases a quality point-and-shoot. For world travelers, it's a recipe for mains-frustration. Again, my current Nikon runs for a long, long time on the special, camera quality CRV-3 battery, or passably well (and conveniently) on regular AAs.

4.) Easy macro selection. Shouldn't take more than two movements. That little flower better be stamped right on the case. I should be able to hit it, select it, and shoot. Done. Period. That bug might not be on the flower long enough for me to scroll, scroll, select, scroll, select into macro mode.

5.) More megapixels.

Is that asking too much? Someone else out there must be a macro lover like me, right? What's the heir to the Coolpix 2100? I love my Nikon a little more tonight, 1600x1200 and all. Tiny screen? No problem - it still has a view finder. Smudged lens? Okay, that should be fixed, but at least I didn't melt it with the candle shots. (again, see flickr.)

By the way: I don't need nearly as many words to describe what I want in a man. I don't need any words at all, as a matter of fact - unless you count the 1000 this description is worth.

Worst Indeed

2006-11-27T15:06:00.000-08:00

So this show is good, but crappy BBC America seems to show only part of a series at any one point with no indication of when the rest might air. To wit - the above linked show aired only about 3 day's worth and now, this Friday, the first episode of the 2d series. Never saw the end of the first, but nevermind that, right?

Then there's the half-aired Prime Suspect I watched yesterday. Was barely sure if the ending I saw was the end or just the end of a first part. The info box didn't indicate it was the first of several parts. Never saw another part advertised. So what gives?

Perhaps this is an argument for re-upping my netflix subscription. Then again, no, probably not.

Casio: EX-Z60: Love it or leave it?

2006-11-26T17:05:00.000-08:00

So this weekend I battled awful crowds at two Targets to acquire a Casio Exilim Z60. It's sleek and sexy and shiny and new. But I'm not sure it's going to stay with me very long. Is it all flash and no function? Perhaps.

Check out the new Flickr page dedicated to the camera. You can even select "macro photos" from the drop down menu. This will become important in a moment.

Here's the background: I love my Nikon, it's small, well loved, takes great shots, and especially great macro shots. This puppy can focus from about yay-far off. Closer than whatever the manual says, I can tell you that. But it has just 2 megapixels. It maxes out at 1600x1200. Fine for most everything, really, except probably posters. I've enlarged shots up to 11x16 with little degredation of the image. But more pixels are better, right? JPG Magazine and all that.

Now for the problems with the Casio: Sure it has 6 megapixels, but does it matter if the macro sucks in comparison to the Nikon? The super close-up flower and food shots are my favorite things - can I do without the ability to bury my lens in a flower and snap away. The Nikon has a dial on the top that allows me to change between functions (landscape, action, portrait, etc) with just the flick of my thumb. To change between an even greater range of pre-sets on the Casio requires navigating through an extensive menu. There may be softkeys, but I haven't found them yet. To get to macro? Button pushing again. To use the filters? Sepia, b&w, red, green, blue, yellow? More menus and scrolling and buttons. There's no viewfinder. That's not such a big deal. The Casio's screen is huge - but not necessarily sharper than my Nikon's. The menu buttons are close to the screen. The camera is thin and I'm a bit clumsy with nice toys.

Oh, but that macro problem.

My former roomie said to avoid Nikon point-and-shoots and to go with Casios (granted, he suggested a different Casio, a much more expensive one). But if the progeny of my coolpix has the macro power of my current Nikon, plus more megapixels, then I'll trade it in.

Or just get over the need for more megapixels. Tell 'em all to stuff it on their more-pixels-the-better attitude?

Rambling post over.

Click

2006-11-21T00:35:00.000-08:00

I suppose it would be generally regarded as unduly egocentric to sit around googling oneself all day. I don't, generally, google myself. I do sometimes, just to know what's out there. Once, someone posted a comment in response to one I posted where he clearly googled me and thought he scored some number of devious-points for spilling the beans about things that aren't secret because they are on the internet. And I put them there.

Anyway - tonight, while looking around flickr, I decided to search for my name. Just my first name. There aren't many of me in the world. Don't try it yourself unless you try it on your name. Turns out, there are a bunch of "Christiana" photos. I am a self-involved clavical fan. I'm many babies, which is heartening as perhaps it signifies a spike in my popularity. Or at least in my popularity among parents with cameras and too much time on their hands. I am a foot fetishist, apparently (ooh, can't wait for the spam I get from using that phrase). I am a pretty dancer. I am a city in Denmark. And on in Delaware.

I am an immigrant in a sepia photo. I am celebrating my birthday in Vancouver and drinking beer and wine and martinis with my friends while someone lights candles on my cake in my office. I am arm-wrestling. I am a street. I've been to Singapore. I need a haircut. I am getting married in a beautiful satin gown. I am a bridesmaid. I have braces.

I am a theater in Oslo.

I am at the Olympics in Turin. I am a saint, and a vollyball player, and a bunny rabbit. There's a swan in me. There are clouds over me. There are friends with me. I am alone. I am staring at the camera, eyes wide, grasping at rattles, teething.

Things that bother me

2006-11-20T23:53:00.000-08:00

Today: Dry-cleaners.

More specifically, dry cleaning. Because the clothes usually come back smelling funny and things never look as good after. Or sometimes they do - but then you're just lulled into a false sense of security, like every time they'll clean the clothes and not eff them up. But then, that new sweater you're real keen for, well, they botch it and it comes out not exactly ruined, just, well, different. So now your once-favorite sweater, barely a month old, looks as tired as you do, most of the mornings you crawl into it. That wasn't its purpose. It's purpose was to make you look better, effortlessly better. But now it looks like effort itself - like someone wove effort into the knit. And you're just $28 poorer, with no nice sweater to show for it.

Dammit.

Comments now moderated

2006-11-03T10:20:00.000-08:00

Due to some nasty spam attacks lately, I've had to enable comment moderation on Phar. This means whatever comment you leave won't appear until I allow it to appear. I'll get notification of comments left, so I can go in an publish them, but it might take a bit of time.