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Upcoming photo op at Santa Barbara; taking care of finances

2004-06-11 - 11:30 p.m.

You might recall my mentioning Angel during my bar engagement/Crouching Police Hidden Daath excursion.

Tomorrow, hopefully at 10am, we shall have breakfast at one of my favorite spots in The Valley, Nico's, and then drive up in separate cars to Santa Barbara.

You may well wonder why. Two words:

Baby Shower.

No, not mine.

I'm not even sure exactly how much exposure to this first ever baby shower I'll be having, since that's really an excuse for Angel to show me the real prize:

The painted caves of Santa Barbara. Kinda sounds like a sequel to Pirates of the Caribbean.

Anyway, this photographic pornoscape will be extremely tasty, I think..and the only problem is actually getting there. I've briefly been through Santa Barbara up along the 1 highway/Pacific Coast Highway, but this time through I think I'll be taking the 101. Angel's been up there many times before, though, so I'm in capable hands.

The separate cars deal is kinda unfortunate, being that it's close to 100 miles from my little suburb (where she's meeting me) to Santa Barbara. Talking passes the time, after all. The caves themselves aren't within walking distance of the baby shower, though, and I can't drive her stick-shift--otherwise I could just take her car, which I thought was a nice gesture on her part.

So, I'm off..

* * *

Well, I will be after I summarize:

*Got financial crap taken care of today, including paying for my new long-distance, my e-commerce website for the photography, sundry bills, and blah blah blah.

*Helped people. Rock on.

*Got back in touch with Dr. Crisco's grad student, Sara. She gave me some reassuring news, saying that I didn't need to have a full project ready and waiting for scrutiny when I got to Wisconsin. That's a hell of a relief, since it looks like I'll be moving in mid-August instead of later that month.

*The idea of grad. school is 30% excitement, 70% overexaggerated fear about a Dostoevsky return to war and the bitter cold of lost souls; you'd have to know me (or read about me) in college to understand, which covers late 2002 to mid-2003. Suffice it to say I don't want to bury myself in work again, but a strange man in a strange land has few foundations to secure himself to. I've 31 flavors of fear for the situation.

I'm rambling. I jet for The Valley and wish you all well. More photographs coming up.

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