shutterboo

I had so many ideas for books this week, all scribbled down in my notebook but it was my big bro that said “add some humor to it.”  Big bro’s suggestion was a good one but I decided to spin off of it.  Mostly because the humorous book title he provided was too funny to top (and too embarrassing to find for that matter).

Here is my book:

Ever heard of personal showers for brides-to be?  Yeah, well I had one of those five years ago before I tied the knot with the hubs.  So yes, this book is mine ours.  And no, I haven’t read it.  It’s more of a… picture book.  And I giggle each time I see it because I’m not a grownup at all.

I even giggled when I asked my friend to hold it for the picture.  And then I giggled when I was looking through the viewfinder.  And I giggled when I uploaded the photos onto my PC.  And I’m giggling right now since I’m confessing about giggling and sharing with the internet just how immature I am.  Oh well, I guess you would have figured it out one day.

Next week’s challenge is “map.”  Don’t forget to check out the flickr pool’s photos or click on the challenger roll to see everyone else’s photos.  And feel free to join in on the fun by joining the flickr pool.  Or just check in every Wednesday.  That’s cool too.

Saturday evening, I hit up the Bluegrass Balloon Glow with Mrs. Rev.  This was my first ever Balloon Glow and it was pretty cool.  I know, you’re saying “But Brooke, you’re in your 20s and there is at least one every year during the Kentucky Derby Festival.”  But alas, I’ve never been.  I don’t really care for crowds or people who don’t make their children mind so usually tend to stay away from these things.

Case in point, I almost crammed a plastic whistle down a little girl’s throat because she wouldn’t stop blowing it.  That would teach her mom who said “no more whistle in the car… because it’s annoying.”  No shit it’s annoying – it’s annoying the 20 people surrounding you.  Don’t wait until the car, make her stop blowing spit into that thing now.  Please.  For the love of pete.  Arg.

OK, not really, but we were complaining to each other about that stupid whistle.  Can you tell I haven’t had my coffee yet?  Don’t worry, I have a mug in front of me.  It’s just really hard to type with both hands and slam down burning hot java.  Hmmm, java slammers.  I think I’m onto something…

Back on subject.  The Balloon Glow.  Totally Mrs. Rev’s idea.  “We’ll get some really cool shots!”  And we did.  But I have about 486 really bad shots too. But you don’t get to see those.

We headed over at 7pm thinking dusk would be the perfect time to capture the “glow” but our timing proved to be a bit off because balloons started going down 20 minutes after we got there (and it took 15 minutes to walk from the car to the field).  A storm was rolling in and these floatable contraptions didn’t want to get caught up in it.  I understand.  But I was sad about it.  We took advantage of the setting as best we could: we snapped away like mad men, going from one balloon to the next.

The colors of the balloons were fantastic.  The size of these things – ginormous!  Like I said, never been to a Balloon Glow.  Or Festival or Race for that matter.  Man, you think I wasn’t a Louisville native.

And the heat!  We propped up next to a balloon that was blowing it’s torch before packing up, I mean we were right next to the basket, and now I have know how idea how these people keep their eyebrows!  It was extremely HOT!  And zero of those pictures turned out because I got too excited to set the shot up correctly.  It happens.  I’m easily excitable.

By 7:54pm, there were only 2 balloons left blowing hot air.  We saddled up next to one.  Which was  a great idea because they kept blowing that torch like they had all the fuel in the world.  And because people wanted to take their picture in front of it.  So we kept moving around the balloon, setting up different shots, cursing the dark sky and the unpredictable shooting flames.

This one is my favorite.  The flames look amazing and there’s just enough light from the torch to see the faces in the basket below.  And everything else is black.  Hoowah, I got a money shot.  This still makes me question why these people have eyebrows.  Or even hair for that matter.  If I worked one of these things, I’d be in flame retarded retardant clothes from top to toe.

There were fireworks after the Glow.  Mrs. Rev told me I should quit being a baby and take my tripod for the fireworks.  I said “No.  Human tripod, right here.”  In which she just called me a baby again.  Folks, I hate carrying the tripod.  And it’s broken – nothing a little super glue can’t fix but that’s my reasoning for now.

But Mrs. Rev got some pretty cool fireworks shots.  Because she wasn’t a “baby” and carried her tripod all over god’s green earth.  I’m a little jealous.  The human tripod did not perform up to par.  But yes, these are Mrs. Rev’s fireworks shots – you can see more of her photos at her flickr.

photographed by Mrs. Rev

photographed by Mrs. Rev

photographed by Mrs. Rev

The Glow ended with a bang.  And a hotdog.  And rain as we trekked 15 minutes back to the car.  Through tall field grass.  And wet shoes.  With water pegging us in the face.  Did I mention it was raining?

Thanks to WordPress for a spot on the home page this week!
And thanks to Mrs. Rev for getting my butt out in the rain.

Mrs. Rev has been very handy when it comes to making photography stuffs instead of spending mula on accessories/equipment.  We’ve made a few different contraptions to help filter and soften the light from our built-in flashes but her latest find was a light box.  The Strobist always has money saving and photography tips and my pal located the light box info there.  And I was so jealous of hers:

Mrs. Rev and I got together Saturday to 1) shop for supplies at Hobby Lobby 2) make a light box for moi and 3) eat.  My kind of day.  I thought we’d photograph our way through the process to show you how easy it is.  I took some photos, she took some photos, so this was definitely a joint effort.

What you need to get started is:

• a good size box (think of the size of things you want to photograph in it)
• vellum paper/transparent paper/tissue paper – something that allows light through.  We found a vellum type poster board @ Hobby Lobby.  Cost almost $4 a sheet but it’s sturdier than tissue paper and that’s good because my BDD is a bull in a china shop.
• clear tape
• a ruler
• a pencil
• a box knife
• and scissors or the cool little doodad Mrs. Rev had

Oh, and if you’re as lucky as I am, a partner in crime an instructor.

To get started, you need to decide how the box will sit – I did mine vertical like Mrs. Rev’s.  So you’ll need to remove the top and left and right sides but leave a frame to attach the vellum.  We used the width of the ruler to draw the frame.

After the frames are outlined, take out your box knife and very, very careful cut along the lines.  I found the most successful way is to score it – score the line about three or four times.  That way you’re not applying too much pressure to crunch up your box and you’re less likely to slip and have an accident.

See how careful I am?  Cutting away from the body and making sure I can see my left hand.  And Mrs. Rev’s hands.  I’ve seen people at work slice through their fingers lickety split with these types of knives so please be careful.  I don’t think you want blood on your light box.  Or a trip to the ER for stitches.  That kind of takes away all of the fun.

See Ma, no blood!

Repeat on all three sides and then voila! you have a box with big holes in it!  I went ahead and removed the top flap too – that would get super annoying super fast.

Mrs. Rev wanted to put her face in it.  Pretty girl!

Next you measure the sides of your box and cut the vellum paper to fit the outside.  Mrs. Rev had this cool little doodad that she referred to as a “wrapping paper cutter” that just zipped on down the page.  Very cool.

Then you slap these suckers on the outside of your missing box walls and tape them in place.  I say tape it.  Tape it good.  Nothing like a little 80s music to get the blood flowing in the morning.

And then you got yourself a home made light box that cost less than $10 to make.  And you recycled a box.  Or you recycled a friend’s box.  Look at that, we’re being green too.

This is a test… and it works.  Sweet heysoos, I have a light box! This is going to come in handy for the Weekly Photo Challenge!

The only thing left to do is select some colored poster board to have as backdrops.  Measure the width of your box and then take your cool little doodad that zips along ( or lame scissors) and trim down the poster boards.

I chose a variety of colors like Mrs. Rev to switch it up.  And The Strobist recommends playing with your white balance to get different effects too.  There is so much natural light in this room that I didn’t need artificial light.  But back at home, I have two desks lamps ready to set up on either side.

I had to try it out:

This shot is SOOC (straight out of camera) on the gray backdrop and natural light lit the box.  I’m impressed that something so easy and cheap to make has such a good result.  The only thing that bugs me is that in shiny objects,  you see your reflection.  I’ll get over that though because I saved mula.  Which is good.  Yep, definitley good.

I’ve spent the entire day with my good pal, Mrs. Rev.  I call her Mrs. Rev because she married our friend who’s nicknamed Rev.  It’s short for Reverend.  No, he isn’t a reverend.  But he is ordained.  And a deputy.  And she’s the Mrs. – it makes sense. 

I hadn’t had the pleasure of knowing Mrs. Rev until just two short years ago when we (the hubs and I) moved back home to Derby City.  Rev and Mrs. Rev live something like two miles from us – we joke that we could ride our lawnmowers to each other’s house.  Needless to say, we hit it off and now I’m spending entire days with her.  It’s a fabulous thing, having friends that marry awesome women – I commend all of the hubs’s friends for having fantastic companions.  It might appear to be an odd group of gals but we somehow always have a kickass time together.  Love them.  All of ‘em.  Don’t want to change any of ‘em.

But yes, Mrs. Rev and I spent the day shopping, eating, crafting and photographing.  I do not lie [much], internet, Mrs. Rev entertained me for almost eight hours today.  Bless her heart.  She instructed me on how to build a light box (more of that to come later) and then we hit up the Balloon Glow that ended abruptly because of stormy forecasts (more of that also to come later).  The Balloon Glow was Mrs. Rev’s idea as I knew nothing about it.  She also got some way cool shots so there may be some featuring in the future.  Too bad the rain decided to crash our fun.  Boo rain, boo.

Anywho, the point of this post is to introduce her because I write about her so often and well, people like to put a face with a name.  All you really need to know is Mrs. Rev is a beautiful woman – inside and out – with a quiet personality and a contagious giggle.  And I love the fact that she puts up with my endless supply of lame jokes and bakes cakes.  Because I do have an endless supply of lame jokes and her cakes are so so good (aren’t they, AmyHasBangs??).  Yes, a very beautiful person indeed.

I never take my friends for granted – they are the family I get to choose and each one of them have helped me in one way or another.  I have friends to shop with, friends to watch movies with, friends to drink beer with… the list could go on.  I do manage to eat food with all of my friends though.  But they all mean so much to me and I think so often we forget the things our friends do for us.  I, on the other hand, realize how much of a PITA I am and love them for even inviting me along for the ride. 

Note: PITA is an acronym for Pain In The Ass.  Use it wisely, my friends, because you never know who’s up to date on the texting lingo.  It may surprise you.

A realization set in today: it’s been only a little over eight weeks since I started my blog.  It seems like it’s been a lot longer but I have no explanation as to why.  I do know that I’m having fun photographing everything in sight, writing about random stuff and meeting new friends via the interweb.  I didn’t think I’d like writing and didn’t plan to write very much – but I do.  A lot.  I also didn’t think I’d make interweb friends because the interweb is a scary place – but I have.  And they are super fly.

When the idea to start a blog first popped into my head (which was inspired by my PodMate), I made a list.  I figured this list would help me decide whether or not to blog and what kind of blog I wanted.  So I asked myself things like:  Will I be dedicated enough to post every few days?  Do I write as myself or under a psuedo-name with an alter ego?  Do I tell my friends and family or do I want it to be something just for me, in secret?  How in the heck do I even begin to start?  All good questions to consider, but the one question that answered the rest was “what will I call my blog?”

A name.  It all started with a name.  I had a long list of possible blog names but none of them really sounded like me.  Well, I take that back; Don’t Hate The Bacon sounds like me but I don’t talk about bacon everyday (OK, yes I do).  I asked friends for suggestions (Shoop Shop, Photo Blob, Brooke Radio were among them) but it was a conversation that my PodMate and I had one morning at work that sealed the deal.  Our conversation may or may have not gone something like this:

Brooke:  OK, I’ve narrowed it down.  What do you think about Relatively Retarded?
PodMate:  Um…
B:  Nevermind.  What do you think about Not Nearly Normal?
PM: What?
B:  Next.  What do you think about Don’t Hate The Bacon?
PM:  How did you come up with that?
B:  Not cool?  OK.  What do you think about shutterbooger?
PM:  Shutterbooger?  Booger???
B:  Well, I’m playing off of shutterbug… how about shutterboog?
PM:  Hmmm…
B:  No…
PM:  Drop the g and make it shutterboo.
B:  shutterboo… [wheels start turning in my brain]

I mulled it over for a few minutes and then WHAM! inspiration struck and I knew that this was the name.  The PodMate showed me the ways of blogging, how to check things and what not.  But this was the name, this was it, and as silly as it may seem reading this, you try coming up with the name of something that you’ll share not only with your family, friends, co-workers but complete strangers on the interweb.  It’s quite hard.

And can I just say that I am so glad that I chose to share this with the people I know – the people who are in my life everyday, that I would terribly sad to live without.  I appreciate all of the feedback they provide and hearing that they look forward to reading my nonsense just makes me love them a little more.  And I like it even more when my friends join the Weekly Photo Challenge. *wink wink, nudge nudge*

So what was the WHAM! of inspiration?  I drew a logo.  For eight weeks I’ve kept my ink-scratched logo close by, trying to figure out how in the heck I was going to make it electronic.  Last night, I figured it out.  And for my first go-round with 1) designing a logo 2) creating it on the computer and 3) figuring out how to use it the way I wanted to, I have to give myself a pat on the back.  Not too shabby, if I say so myself.

Let the blogging continue, the photography forge ahead, the learning of computer programs progress, the stupid things I do never cease… because this is only the beginning, my friends.  And remember, don’t hate the bacon.

I’m not very Suzy Homemaker.  Meaning that my cooking skills are fair, I hate cleaning my house and I’m not very good at decorating.  Actually, I kind of stink at decorating.  I don’t have the “eye” for it and can never make up my mind so my furniture and stuff is kind of ho-hum.  I like it, it’s just doesn’t have any kind of wow-factor.  I’m OK with that.  But when fall rolls around, I pull out my little decorations bin and dust off [the incredibly thick layer of drywall dust that is still on everything in the basement] my little decorations and put each one in the spot it will be for the season.  I feel like my house is ready for autumn – even if mother nature isn’t.

There’s something about artificial leaves of red and orange that just make everything cozier, no?  It’s like the fall decorations are a lead-in to the Christmas decorations (we just have to forget that winter comes with it too).  I love this feeling and I can’t quite put my finger on what to call it.

The Halloween basket is already out, filled with treats.  The hubs says I get bad candy every year but there’s reasoning behind it.  Halloween is for kids and we pass out candy to trick-or-treaters.  If I got the good stuff, I would have to stand by the basket and swat his hand every time he reached for something.  Since Halloween is a month away though, Starbursts and Skittles are hanging out for a while.  These Skittles are fantabulous, by the way.  Two flavors or something like that.  Fantabulous, I say.

I found these little paper pumpkins a couple years ago and put them in place of my potpourri.  I really hope Chevy keeps her nose out of them this year.  She thinks if her head can reach it, it should be in her mouth.  Like the kleenex and the lint roller sheet I pulled from her mouth yesterday.  I’m glad we learned the “drop it” hand signal because it’s handy in these situations too, not just frisbee.

I’m a wreath person.  It makes feel like an old lady sometimes but I really like having a wreath on the front door.  I have a pretty eucalyptus wreath that hangs (and stinks) on the door most of the year and it only gets changed out in the fall and winter.  I need a new all-year wreath.  The eucalyptus gives us both headaches and puts an icky leaf oil on the storm door.  Icky leaf oil = more cleaning = not a happy boo.  The colors of this wreath make up for the stinky one though.

This centerpiece makes me happy.  The shape, the gourds, the colors… happy.  It could also be that I got it for cheap, end of the season, a steal-it-off-the-shelf-why-don’t-ya price.  Thriftiness pays, my friends.  And it makes me happy.

Does anyone else out there prefer to burn tarts rather than candles?  I still have a few candles but they seem kind of wasteful.  You buy yourself a nice big jar, burn it down to a muck and then have to throw the whole thing out.  But with tarts, you buy yourself a pretty little burner, stock up on tarts when they’re $1 each and pop in a 10 cent tealight.  You toss the plastic wrapper on the tart, a puddle of [frozen] wax and a small tin where the tealight was.  A lot less waste.  And you don’t have that candle burning smell either.

I love my little pumpkin tart burner.  He’s cute.  Super cute.  And his mini-pumpkin friends hang out with him.  Yankee Candle helps me make my house smell less like dog and more like home.  Thank you frosted pumpkin tart for making it smell yummy too.  Heart you.

I have a secret.  I don’t know if the neighbors know or not, but I my fall mums are artificial.  *gasp*  They look real from the sidewalk so why not?  And the best thing about them is that you don’t need to bother watering.  And they keep their color all fall.  Sweet, huh?

I haven’t stuck them in the planters yet.  Because my summer flowers are still alive.  And are actually budding thanks to all this rain we’re having this week.  And I can’t bear to rip up thriving plants with flowers to squeeze artificial ones in its place.  That seems wrong.  But once these bad dogs die, the mums are going in.

Chevy and Chase – nosey doggins.  Chase (she’s the shorter one) has that look that says “Food Lady, what are you doing out there without me?  We check the mail together, remember?  What’s wrong with you?  Open this door.”  While Chevy, with her deep, slow, nonexistent voice says “Huh?  The door’s open.  Oh my gosh, was that a leaf?  I want that leaf.  Oh my gosh, was that a car?  I want that car.  Oh my gosh, did you hear that?  Tell me you heard that.”

I love hearing Chevy say “Did you hear that?”  Because she’s the BDD, the big deaf dog.  Oh, how I can amuse myself for hours at a time.

I wanted to share that the Bacon Raiders had their first W this week.  That’s right, Andre Johnson is a beast in the fantasy football world.  The Kragcooper’s can suck it!

Bacon Raiders 160
Kragcoopers 121

Now watch me lose next week.

I don’t want to look at another pill for at least a few weeks.  I had pills set up in every kind of still life you could possibly imagine and I didn’t like any of them.  Not enough light, too much grain, blah blah blah.  So I decided to photograph some unconventional medicine.

Here is my medicine:

Whiskey has been used for medicine.  A tablespoon of this stuff will help a sore throat and help you sleep.  I’ve heard of mothers rubbing whiskey on their teething child’s gums.  And it’s a great painkiller, whether we’re talking back pain or heart ache.  Ah, Woodford Reserve bourbon… it’s really just an added bonus that it tastes good on the rocks, or as I prefer, arranged in an Old Fashion.

The cool thing about this shot is that I used a light box.  A homemade light box.  That means instead of dropping $$ on some plastic and cloth, you make one for less than $12.  And while it has it’s flaws, it still works.  My good friend Mrs. Rev built one for herself (pictured below) and I’m completely jealous.  So she’s helping me build one this weekend.  I’m very excited.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

Next week’s challenge is “books.”  Don’t forget to check out the flickr pool’s photos or click on the challenger roll to see how everyone else captured “medicine.”  If you’re still on the fence about joining the challenge, come on over.  It’s fun.

This past Saturday evening, I watched my childhood friend Emily get married to her hubby-to-be, Jonathan.  She was stunning and her hair was GORGEOUS!  With Mom as my date, we soon realized that we knew absolutely nobody except for Emily’s family.  Some friend I am.  But we had excellent company at our dinner table (we ended up swapping stories about Emily growing up with her neighbors) and couldn’t have been happier for her.

Now when I go to weddings, I take my kahuna; it’s a great opportunity to learn more about light and how to shoot in dark, candlelit rooms.  But there are occasions when I arrive and get too overwhelmed/embarrassed/hungry to take pictures.  And I don’t want to get in the paid photographers way.  Lame, I know, but that’s how I [sometimes] roll.  At this particular event, Emily already had several friends sporting their cameras and I decided to just hang out with Mom.  Until I heard that Emily and her father, Steve, had taken lessons for their dance.  The kahuna wanted to come out and play.

Looking at Emily, you’d never know that she was wearing green Converse Allstars under her dress after she’d given her groom and step-son down the road for wearing the same shoes that day.

Seeing the smile on Steve’s face, you’d never guess how irritated he was that his daughter named her little yappy dog “Steven the Third” after him.

You also wouldn’t know that she once got her fist stuck in her mouth and had to leave class to go to the nurse’s station. Nope.  Never would have guessed that.

It was a beautiful waltz and you could see how happy Emily’s father is.  So sweet.  I love weddings.  And wedding cake.  But on to business…

These are not good photographs.  There’s about 20 reasons why they suck but I’ll name the three that stand out in my mind:

1. I wanted to use my 50mm but it proved to have too much zoom and I couldn’t step back due to tight quarters around the dance floor.  So my friend is cut off at the waist; you can’t see the beautiful skirt of her wedding dress.

2. You can’t see her face – if this was Steve’s wedding it’d be cool.  But it wasn’t.  For some reason beyond my being I couldn’t get the dang camera to focus when Emily looked my direction.  I have pictures of her face – but you can’t tell it’s her because it’s so frickin blurry.

3. I’m blaming it all on the accessory flash and the fact that I have zero ideas how to use it.  It was a big attempt to use the flash and this attempt can be classified as FAIL.  I believe full heartedly that the flash is the most difficult thing to learn on the camera.  My DAd was explaining the flash to me before the wedding but none of it sunk in and it doesn’t help that I don’t know how to operate the functions and modes.  Will be adding this to the “what I need to learn next” list.  Stupid accessory flash.  I’m grounding it for bad behavior.

It was just a FAIL.  The whole thing: FAIL.  So why am I even sharing this with you, internet?  Because so often, people who are teaching themselves photography become frustrated with not getting everything perfect.  It doesn’t work that way.  You have to take several pictures of the same thing to get one outstanding one.  You have to practice and learn your equipment before you go to once-in-a-lifetime events.  Practice makes perfect, right?  So while I’m still completely pissed at myself for not getting at least one good picture that evening, there is a lesson to be learned: read the accessory flash manual, you moron.

This here is Molly.  She belongs to eMohn and sheMohn and I’ve known her for as long as they’ve had her.  She’s a rather relaxed dog but still knows how to throw down with the stuffed animals toys.  Molly and Chase get along OK.  The BDD?  Let’s just say that Molly doesn’t really care of puppy-like doggins.

Can I just tell you how frickin’ happy this dog was to see me and the hubs when we visited our friends in Dusseldorf?  She was all like “Hi Mom!  Oh, who in the heck did you drag… OH MY GOSH IT’S MY FRIENDS!  YOU BROUGHT MY FRIENDS!  OHAI!”  This doggin would have done a back flip if she could.  Sorry sheMohn, but Molly’s greeting totally trumps your handmade Willkommen sign at the airport.

Little did eMohn and sheMohn know that Molly snuck out of their bedroom and slept with us on the trundle-bed.  Until we told them that their doggin was a bed hog and extremely hot.  But she’s such a sweetie.

I took these on Saturday during the football game.  She’s tuckered out – the Tasmanian Toddler wanted nothing but to pet her and she would have none of it.  Nein.  Nichts.  But the two year old has left the building, no reason to stay alert.  Or awake for that matter.