Saturday Sayin's

Look who is Too Cool to wear his Birthday Hat

Happy Third Birthday Harry!!!

Please Take Me Out To The Ballgame

The Zadge had a ball last night.

Too bad the shitty Colorado Rockies did not, stretching their losing streak to eight straight games.

The Zadge enjoyed the baseball game with The Chilean and her two adorable Mini Chiles:


The Zadge is pretty sure that the Pittsburgh Pirates' pitcher didn't enjoy the game as much as she did.  Since he was hit in the head by the Rockies' shortstop's line drive within the first five minutes of the game.

Ouch.

And although the company was fun and fabulous, the real reason The Zadge had such a good time at the game was because, when she went up to buy a couple of beers for her and The Chilean, the woman serving the drinks freakin' carded The Zadge!  Forty-six year old Zadge!  She who was able to drink 28 years ago back when the legal drinking age was 18!

The Zadge joked with the woman and told her that she made The Zadge's day.  The woman said, in all seriousness, "Oh, we have to card anyone who looks like they are under 40":



Lady, whatever your name is and wherever you are, this aging woman LOVES YOU! Home run!!!

Don't Worry, I'm Not Quitting my Day Job

You all know about The Zadge's Top Secret Day Job.

Well, actually, you don't know anything about it, cuz it's top secret!  But I assume you know that the Top Secret Day Job pays the bills.  Which, by the way, have been quite significant since the evil Mr. Tumor tried to take on The Shone in mortal battle.

Well, take THAT you lame-ass troll, The Shone is kicking your evil ass! Go back to the dark, stanky cancer hole you crawled out of and don't come back!

The Zadge needs the Top Secret Day Job because it helps her fend off evil.

Well, it also pays for the fun trips that The Zadge likes to take.  And the massive renovations to her Baby Jesus of Bethlehem Am I Old As Hell Victorian home.  And the good food and booze that she likes to, uh, sample.  And the ambitionally-challenged cute young foreign slacker that she hooks up with in a tequila-haze in Mexico.  Oh, wait, no.  The Top Secret Day Job gives her the cahones to drop kick the sad puppy out of her house in under 36 hours of his arrival!

In any event, The Zadge needs the Top Secret Day Job for a whole host of reasons.  Plus, more days than not, she likes it.  And it provides good cocktail party stories.

But The Zadge really likes photography.  And she has been messing around with cameras for over a decade now.  She even started a little portrait biz  on the side of the Top Secret Day Job, more to keep photography alive in her life as opposed to making any money.

Cuz The Zadge certainly would be one hungry and thirsty photographer if she tried to chuck the TSDJ completely!

But now The Zadge wants to focus on the fine-art side of photography.  Which means working on a long-term project of images that may one day see the light of a gallery's walls, or a book, or some other medium.  Hence, the trip to Santa Fe to study with the fabulous Keith Carter.

So now I'm in the fetal stages of developing a project.  The project idea is actually a play on the name of this blog: it's tentatively called "Western Skies."  It may or may not also include images of "yellow dogs" - you know who they are!  But I'm a little worried that the dogs may muddy up the idea.  So far, my project includes some of the images I posted here as well as some newer images of Denver:

Colorado State Capitol

Union Station

Coors Field Baseball Stadium

Any critique and/or suggestions you have for The Zadge's Project would be greatly appreciated.  And be honest - I'm a tough girl.  I can take it.

After all, I was right by The Shone's side helping him battle Mr. Tumor!

Shootin' in the Park

The Zadge did a photo shoot this weekend for her friend, The Hazz, so that The Hazz could get some nice portraits of her children.

The Zadge loves having friends who have beautiful children. It makes The Zadge look like she's a good photographer.

Check out the gorgeous Baby Hazzes:

Saturday Sayin's

Refudiating Sarah Palin

The Zadge cannot stand Sarah Palin. 

However, The Zadge loves Jimmy Kimmel:

Oxymoron

What happens in Mexico should STAY in Mexico

Weren't we all rooting for our intrepid heroine this weekend?  That she would regale her faithful readers on Monday with tales of love, laughter and boo-tay with a certain Cute Young Canadian?

Alas, amigos, the only tale The Zadge has to tell today involves heartbreak (his), disgust (hers), bad dancing in a kitchen clad only in a towel (him), tears (his) and someone (her) kicking someone else (him) out onto the street.

Shall we begin?

By way of background, Cute Young Canadian did eventually contact The Zadge and say he wanted to visit her in Denver. The Zadge had some doubts about whether that was a good idea.  After all, she didn't really know him, know him.  And that which she did know was gleaned through a cloud of tequila.  If you didn't catch that post where our intrepid heroine pukes tequila and yogurt all over the streets of Puerto Vallarta, feel free to catch up here.

But, as she is known to do on occasion, The Zadge threw caution to the wind and offered up an available weekend.  Weekend, people. Remember that word.  He said he would be there on the appointed Friday at 6 p.m. when The Zadge got home from her Top Secret Day Job.

What he forgot to mention was that a) he had quit his job; b) he had been living in his sister's basement in Canada and she was about to move, so he would have no place to live upon his return; and c) he had dreamt up a little love fantasy in his head of hanging with The Zadge for, oh, I don't know, a month!

The Zadge discovered the first two of these facts within an hour of his arrival at Old Vicky on Friday.  (And no, he doesn't know about the blog and I did the "Saturday Sayin's" before he arrived, so he didn't see it!).  She started to suspect the third when she saw him bring into her house: a mountain bike, a guitar, five different motorcycle outfits, a laptop, several hats, and two ginormous suitcases with enough clothes to last a year. 

After his first drink that night, he sprung it on me: his "plan" was that he didn't have any plan - for a job, for a house, for his life - and that he thought he would just hang with me and use my house as a "home base" for his travels.

As Moomskers would say, "WHAAATTT?!!!"

Here's the thing:  The Zadge is not exactly a slacker.  In addition to her Top Secret Day Job, she is busy on a daily basis with her blog, her photography biz, caring for her critters, maintaining her relationship with Mr. Ball Machine, as well as her various other athletic endeavors, and boozing it up with her friends.  And she really doesn't find any appeal in slackers.  Or people without a plan.  At all.

So this announcement didn't go over very well with The Zadge.  But she thought she could manage it for the weekend, because after all, Cute Young Canadian The Slacker was awfully cute and nine years younger than The Zadge and that whole Match.com thing isn't really panning out.

But then he started to develop The Moon Face.  For the next 24 hours, every time The Zadge looked at The Slacker, he got all goo-goo-ga-ga and tried to kiss her all over her face.  He kept saying how he found The Zadge so "free, and independent, and sexy."  He started talking about his "next" visit to Denver.  He kept grabbing The Zadge in the kitchen, wanting to slow dance with her while he held her face.

Blech.

My BFF and I have a term for what happened to me during those first 24 hours with The Slacker -- I was "Tedded."  Ted was the name of some poor guy who dated one of BFF's friends in college.  BFF's friend got to that point in the early dating relationship - and I know you all know what I mean -- where suddenly the guy just totally turned her off.  How he talked, what he wore, the way he sneezed, the way he kissed her.  And there is no reversing that feeling once it hits.  Once you've been Tedded.

Oh, and was I Tedded by Saturday evening.  His lack of drive, of energy, of pizzazz, of anything!  And yes, I do feel sort of bad about blogging about it because he is a sweet, completely harmless guy - it's just that I felt like I was carrying around a comatose puppy the whole weekend!

Ok, on to the naked dancing, the tears and the eviction.

The Zadge, being a bit of a foodie, figured that at least she would get a good meal out of it on Saturday night by going to a good restaurant.  After spending 3 hours biking in 102 degree heat,  The Slacker Ted suggested that it might be better to just "cook in" rather than go out to a restaurant.  Now normally, The Zadge loves to cook for the men in her life.  Just not the comatose puppies.  But figuring finances were an, ahem, issue with a man who has no job, The Zadge agreed.

Which meant that The Zadge paid for all of the groceries and cooked all the food, while Ted showered and then came out to the kitchen clad only in a towel wrapped around his waist.  Which is what he wore for the rest of the night, while he repeatedly tried to get The Zadge to slow dance with him with cheesy romance moves and kept taking her picture and telling her how comfortable he was in her house.

As the Ted Factor increased, as well as the number of vodka tonics The Zadge downed, she started to get really grossed out and sick of the whole situation.  Which resulted in her telling him that there would be no more boo-tay and that she did not have the same "plan" as him and that he would have to leave the next day.  This is where the tears came in.  Not hers.

So long and short, after a very awkward night and morning, Ted was shown the door on Sunday afternoon.  When I asked where he was going, he said he didn't know.

But The Zadge knew exactly where she was going.  To the fridge.  Where she grabbed a beer, sat on the couch and thanked her lucky stars that there were only critters in her house and no slackers.

Happy trails Ted.

Saturday Sayin's

Is it Colonel Mustard in the Library?

There are some surprising things going on here today at Old Vicky.  Check out tomorrow's "Saturday Sayin's" for a clue!

Does the Zadge have a Garden Gnome?

There is some strange stuff happening in The Zadge's yard.  She thinks she might have a Garden Gnome.

First, the Baby Pool for the Boyz sprung a leak:

Oh wait, probably not the work of a Garden Gnome, but rather the handiwork of a Devil Dog:


Then The Zadge went out to pick her very first home-grown tomato of the season.  She picked the biggest one on the vine.  Doesn't it look ripe and luscious...


... except that it is the size of a cherry tomato - and it's a "BIG BOY!"


Can't blame Harry for that one, so chalk it up to the Garden Gnome, because it can't possibly be The Zadge's faulty green thumb!

But here's the real reason The Zadge is convinced that her garden is harboring a gnome:  someone is cutting The Zadge's grass.  For free.  And The Zadge has no idea who it is.

The Zadge, being a city slicker, doesn't have a very large yard.  But there's enough grass that it needs to be cut periodically.  And since The Zadge went through four lawnmowers in three years when she first bought her house in D.C., she long ago decided that hiring someone to do it would cost less in the long run.

So when The Zadge moved into Old Vicky last winter, she knew she'd have to hire someone to cut her little yard come spring.  She didn't think about it again, really, until about a month ago, when she realized that her lawn never seemed to need mowing. Which she then realized was odd, because grass does grow!

Then one day she came home from work and saw the distinctive lines in the grass of a lawn mower and the grass looked all neat and trimmed.

Someone has been cutting Old Vicky's grass!

At first, I thought it probably was my next door neighbor - but their yard is a mess and overgrown, so I doubt they did just mine to be neighborly.  And the other neighbors are total stoners -- the only type of "grass" they deal with is wrapped in rolling paper.

Weeks went by and I waited for a bill from someone.  None appeared.  Ok, I thought, some good samaritan in my 'hood is cutting my grass (mind you - it would take all of four minutes to cut the front yard).

But then the weirdest thing happened:  The Zadge came home from work yesterday and discovered that the only remaining green patch of grass in the backyard -- a little 5 x 3 foot patch -- HAD BEEN MOWED!!!  (Remember all that fresh sod my man Martine planted a few months ago? Total straw now!)

See, here's why that is so Baby Jesus of Bethlehem weird:  The only way to get into the backyard is through one of the two front 6-feet tall privacy gates on the side of the house, or through the 6-foot tall privacy gate in the back on the alley - AND ALL THOSE GATES ARE SECURED WITH COMBINATION LOCKS FROM THE INSIDE!!!

Garden Gnome.  It's the only logical conclusion.

A Little Latin Lesson

The Zadge assumes that all of you, like her, take the occasional break from your boring work day to surf the 'net in search of some intellectual stimulation.  Come on, you know you have TMZ bookmarked.

So I assume you have all heard of the Biggest Dumb-Asses on the Planet Bristol Palin-Levi Johnston engagement.

And Bristol's vow not to sleep with Levi until their wedding night in keeping with her new position on abstinence.  Uh, hello, your hymen DOESN'T GROW BACK AFTER YOU HAVE A CHILD WITH YOUR TEENAGED BABY'S FATHER!

And how Bristol decided to tell "US Weekly" first before she told her mom, Sarah "The Zadge Hates You more than almost anyone on the Planet" Palin, that she was going to marry the mentally-challenged skank that went all over the airwaves airing not only the Palin family dirty laundry, but his own dirty parts.

The Zadge got quite excited when she read this news on one of the many on-line tabloid rags she reads on a daily basis, and thought, what good blog fodder this could be.

But then she realized that some things are so patently ridiculous that no commentary is needed.

There's a latin term used in the law called "Res Ipsa Loquitur."  It means "the thing speaks for itself" and generally is used to describe an accident that could only occur when someone was so blatantly negligent that, of course, they have to shoulder the blame.

Bristol and Levi - Res Ipsa Loquitor.

New Friends!

The Zadge's week at the Santa Fe Workshops was life changing.  Seriously.  Ok, yea, I know, I'm a Zadge.  But I'm not zadging this time.

Part of it was the incredible artistic and creative inspiration The Zadge experienced.  But perhaps the biggest part of the phenomenal week was The Group - there were 15 students in The Zadge's workshop and we all just CLICKED!  We laughed our asses off.  We cried.  We drank.  We got naked.

Yes. We. Did.  But I can't really show you the photos of that.

The head honcho of the group was our phenomenal teacher, Keith Carter.  The man is a god, albeit one of the shorter variety:

I love this man and I urge you to check out his work!

Then there were The Sistas, The Zadge's main partners-in-crime.  They aren't really sisters, but The Zadge called them that because they were staying on campus in the former nunnery-turned-dormitory:

They are both extremely talented professional photographers -- check out "Camilla White's" work here and "Tonya the Horse Whisperer's" work here.   We are now friends for life!

Adding a lot of dramatic flair to the group was Victoria, a former ballerina with the Joffrey Ballet:


....and Scott, a Portrait Maestro:


... and The Zadge's lover for the week....

um, not really.  He's just a model from one of our days of shooting!

There was Ian, a professional photographer from The Zadge's hometown of D.C. -  he's as disgruntled with that city as I was and has already bought land in Colorado!  Come on Ian, move out here!!


...then there were the Canadians:  Jonah, the darling food photographer, and the irrepressible Adriana!


We partied at Keith's casita:


We partied on rooftops:


We grew into a little photo family!  And how grateful I am for that week with my new family!

Back to Reality

The Zadge is back from her photographic adventure in New Mexico.

She brought some Western flair back for Cowboy Shone. 

She is dreading the re-entry into real life and the Top Secret Day Job tomorrow and is wondering how cowboys say "I'm so depressed that I have to work for a living and goddamnit where is my sugar daddy" in Western lingo.

Happy Anniversary

One year ago today, The Zadge started her little blog.  270 posts later, I'm not changing the world, but I've changed my little world.  And so much for the better!

It's so ... kind of weird....yet cool and open that you can feel close to friends you've never "met" in real life, but who follow your little blog and you follow their life through the internet.  And you cheer for them, or pray for them, or laugh with them.  Like you guys did for me when The Shone met that evil man, Mr. Tumor.

And I thank you.  And I'm grateful to have "met" you.  And I love laughing along with you.

I'm utterly exhausted, but fulfilled beyond belief, from an incredible, intensive, exhilerating time here in Santa Fe.  Almost too spent to post, but wanted to share with all of you, MY PEEPS, on this anniversary of this little blog, a few photos I took yesterday in Northern New Mexico, so that you too can share the openness and joy and lightness this blog and YOU have brought into The Zadge's life!  Thank you my friends!

Saturday Sayin's

The Zadge's Latest Hottie

The Zadge is head over heels for her newest hottie.

No, it's not the Cute Young Canadian (although there are developments on that front, which I will share in a later post!)  And no, The Zadge has not suddenly become smitten with any of the nutjob losers on Match who seem to be drawn to her.

No my friends, The Zadge's Hottie of the Day is a dark, cool piece of metal and glass:

This is Nikon's professional 24-70mm f/2.8 camera lens that The Zadge has been dreaming about for years. It's widely considered one of the best lenses ever made. It also costs and weighs as much as a used car.

I was about to buy it and then The Shone's Cancer Rollercoaster started and thousands of dollars started flying out of my wallet, so I held off. And thousands more dollars will be flying out shortly for his impending radiation treatments.

But when The Zadge wants something, she finds a way to get it! So I dipped into my savings and this hottie lens showed up at my door yesterday.  

Just in time for The Zadge's Big Adventure in Santa Fe!!  I leave Sunday for a week long workshop at the Santa Fe Workshops, a phenomenal place that offers intensive classes on all aspects of photography for beginners to pros.  I've taken a one day intensive photoshop tutorial there, as well as several week- long workshops at their sister school in Maine.  But this time, I will be studying with the famous photographer Keith Carter in a small workshop called "Visual Poetry."  (For all you dog lovers out there, you must check out his book "Bones!")

I am totally excited, although very aware that I will be at the low end of the talent range - the workshop is for "advanced amateurs-professional photographers" with a serious fine art focus - and while The Zadge has been passionate about photography now for over 10 years and has a little, bitty portrait business on the side, let's just say that she can't quit the Top Secret Day Job anytime soon!

The workshops are intense - from 8:30 a.m. until 5 p.m, you are shooting, having critiques, lectures and slideshows.  Then various famous photographers on site that week give presentations in the evenings.  If my Maine experience is any judge, it is an absolutely exhausting and exhilarating week!

I'll be gone for a week.  Will desperately miss The Shone, Harry and Lips.  And hoping I have time and wireless to post while I'm gone.

So if for some reason you don't hear from me for a week, assume a) there is no wireless at the hotel, b) I'm too tired from all the creative activity to post, or c) I'm hooking up with some creative hottie in Santa Fe and have completely forgotten about my blog.

More Losers of the Day

The Zadge has nothing interesting or funny to say today. 

Except what in god's name is wrong with that raging asshole Mel Gibson?  Or Al "I'm a crazed sex poodle" Gore? 

Sheesh.