Hawaiian dreams

We returned from Hawaii last week. It was absolutely gorgeous. I’m still editing our photography from the trip, but here are a couple standouts.

I almost killed myself and/or broke my camera getting the first one. I have better sunset shots, but the personal meaning makes it a better photo to me.

I’ll be a monkey’s uncle

Check out this self portrait from a cute-ass black macaque monkey. Apparently photographer David Slater left his camera laying around, and came back to find hundreds of photos taken by this gorgeous cousin of ours from yestermillennia.

Tina and I are wow’d by the shot and how fake it looks. Those chompers look like a human’s. Definitely look like a seven-year-old grinning. Surely there’s NOTHING to the theory of evolution. NOTHING at all.

More here.


I’m lost

Lately, Tina and I have been watching the first season of Lost on Netflix streaming just before bed.

Despite that we’re latecomers to the party, we’re enjoying the show. The character generation is great. The writing is tippity top. Even more now, we love that they are in Hawaii (the characters don’t know this, but I think the production crew does).

The difficulty watching the show is knowing that it ended, and that things have been explained, dissected and discussed in great detail. Part of me wants to google search this information to set my mind at ease.

The lives of the characters are interwoven. You’ll watch one episode featuring one character, and a TV in the background of a shot will show another character on the screen.

We’re 20 episodes in, and I wonder if they are in heaven or hell. I question if the writers are skeptics with a love affair for the supernatural. I ask if the writers want to confuse the audience by encouraging certain kinds of superstition. Are they diving into the realm of how the mind runs away when it’s sleep deprived and traumatized.

Watching the show just before we fall asleep encourages bizarre dreams and affects my nighttime paranoia.

Two nights ago, we watched two episodes. While I was trying to settle my mind from that by watching the Myers/Bergman debate, a light turned on in the house outside the bedroom. It wasn’t bright, but it was bright enough to look like a flashlight. The molding around the bedroom door was illuminated, and I almost shat myself. You should have seen my face.

I started rapping on Tina’s hip with my fingers. She woke up. I whispered, “A light just turned on! Oh my gosh.”

“What?” She stirred.

“A light just turned on.”

I pulled myself out of bed, and tried to rouse Talulah from her crate. She wouldn’t wake up. She finally got up and I tugged her over to the door. I tried to push her outside to “do her job.”

“Go! Go! Go on, girl!” I whispered at her.

It was pretty dark where we were standing, but I think she turned and went back to her crate. If she could talk, she would have said, “Fuck you, dad. I’ll take care of licking the bad guys in the morning.”

The man of the house was forced to do the job.

My weapon of choice for these moments is my water bottle. It’s nine inches of strong aluminum, and full of water, I could throw it at a perpetrator to stave off getting shot by about 2 seconds.

When I finally yanked open the door, my adrenaline rush subsided. It was Tina’s computer. It had awoken and the glow from her monitor was illuminating the front room which is close enough to the bedroom wing of the house to be seen.

Last night, I dreamed that I saw two different cars drive off the top floor of a parking deck, and the drivers tried to commit suicide.

While it’s hard on a good night’s sleep, we’re dedicated to watching Lost for the time being. If you comment to give something away, good luck with that.

What are you reading/watching/listening to that you feel addicted to at the moment?