|
02 October 2004 - 10:29 pm I'm getting back into photography. A couple months ago I was busted at work for "improper use of company email" cuz they caught me being snatchy to a co-worker about another co-worker. So I started thinking, "Is this really what I wanna do for the rest of my life?" And the answer is, "Emphatically NO." So then I have to ask myself, "Well, what do you wanna be when you grow up?" And the answer is, "A photographer." So I start to seriously consider what I'm gonna need to do to make this work. I start hearing about "business license" and "DBA" and "LLC" and realize I have no earthly clue what to do. So I check online and one of the first things to do is get yourself a lawyer to make sure you're not doing anything ... well, criminal. So since I'm paying for the Group Legal Plan at work, I get some info from them. I have to call between so and so time between this day and that day. And I start stressing out because I'm realizing how much work I have to do, and contacting a stranger to teach me what to do about my future is a scary prospect. We're talking major stress. I got a massage the other day and my shoulders were one big giant huge mass of muscle. It took her an hour just to get down to the big knots in my shoulders (I go back to see her next week so she can work on those). A couple of days ago there was a knock on the door. I opened it and there was a boy on my doorstep, who immediately goes into his spill. I didn't realize it at first ... he started talking about how this was a challenge to help himself get better at public speaking ("How am I doing, by the way?) and after about 30 seconds he pulls out a magazine list. {sigh} So I ask him how long he's been on mag crew, and his head whips up and he gets wide-eyed and he grins, "About 3 months. Were you?" Perhaps I should pause at this point and describe the young man on my doorstep. He's 18 or 19 years old, 5'8" - 5'10", tan, light brown eyes, dark brown hair, pearly white smile, and there's a peek of a tattoo running up the back of his right arm. In a word = Yum. His name is Sonny. He asks if I have a table he can use to write on, and I ask him to hold on and I close the door. I check the room, then open it and invite him in. He sits on the couch and I apologize, explaining that I had to make sure "things" were put away. He asks, "Are they 'things'?" and makes a scooping motion towards his nose. I reply, "No, they're things that make straight boys run screaming." He laughs and takes a seat. He begins filling out the form and then notices the hunk I have as my computer wallpaper. "Hey! How'd you get a picture of me?" I flash him a smile and tell him that he's much prettier. He pauses then returns to filling out the form. I give him my info and the next time he looks up, my screensaver has kicked in. I have two folders that I use for screensaver pics. One is "G-rated pics" and the other is "Not so much." Right now, it's set on the folder with the naked men doing naughty things to each other. So he looks up and says, "Wow. That's a really big penis." OH! I forgot ... Sonny's from Virginia. HA! � � |