candied apple © Laura Kicey
Only so many times in one day does one need to hear from old crusty men that one is more attractive than the cars. Like, zero. Ms. Pantalones and I wandered around together, dodging questions about what newspaper we were from, feigning interest in car owners' ramblings and I spent most of the time laying on the ground, trying to find a more compelling angle on probably my least favorite subject to date. Once, upon rising, I found myself eye to eye with a man who was sat on one of those motorized scooters. He stared open-mouthed at me and then started clapping. Titter nervously.... run away.
burning bush © Laura Kicey
It was in this way that I almost totally avoided taking people photos. Though the initial plan was to be chatty and photograph people with their cars, hand out business cards, networking and such, but I did not. Alas in the wake of numerous crummy circumstances of the past couple of weeks, I've been feeling more like hiding altogether than chatting up random stangers or even people I really like and know well. Counterproductive, yes, but I need some time to work out this gigantic knot of emotions and uh... legalities before I have desire to deal with the outside world and my 'public face' as it were.
Fortunately a certain Ms. Fotogail is on the list of people to meet while I am in San Fran in a couple weeks. She works for Salon and seems to have a vested interest in seeing this work out, and also has some notions on how to resolve this without going to court. Whether or not Nerve decides to budge tomorrow (I foresee them handling this well), it will be good knowledge to carry on in future.
flight © Laura Kicey
In other news, my mumptastic Brother in Academia departs tomorrow for three months in Madrid, living with the sensational Patty. I got to see him for the first and last time in months on Saturday, whilst shopping for exciting necessities, and also while our mother unwittingly attacked strange men in dressing rooms.
tongue © Laura Kicey