There is a way that I could have seamlessly woven the image of Sue the Colombian lady into this picture and even had her in some kind of bubble, as if I were daydreaming.
But, that would require that I sit down for a few hours with the GIMP photo editor manual in front of me and play around, using layers and feathered edges and seamless blending etc.,
And what I would have to show for those 3 hours would be a much better picture of myself sitting in the Uxi Duxi and daydreaming about Sue. This would be time well spent, as I could use it in future fake daydreaming photos.
I haven't had any romantic interest, other than Lilly, ever since Sue, the Colombian lady left town, after I had gone to Baton Rouge the last time I went there.
She hadn't wanted to come with me; for fear that she would have to depend upon my alcoholic and unpredictable ass, as her only resource in a strange new place.
"No, we will get in some argument; and then I'll be stuck by myself there..."
Sue was kind of instrumental in my having gotten the Lilly Pad as a spot to play. I was sitting on her stoop along with Sue when Lilly had come out and soon became involved in a lengthy conversation with the former in Spanish.
Afterwards, Sue had told me: "I told her we were just friends." I took this to mean that Sue might have seen the possibility of Lilly and I getting together some time in the future, and she was allowing me to keep my options open.
Lilly, I think, first supported me in my efforts because she knew that my nice Colombian lady friend would also benefit. With Sue long gone, Lilly and I have been seen walking together along the river.
I saw a woman who reminded me of Sue on the trolley the other day. It started me thinking that; I could possibly have a girlfriend, once again, some day.
I'm not attracted to black girls. I see them as being of a material mindset; one that I have "evolved" past in my own life; and I see them as being able to keep up a ruse and "play" other people for their own gain. What's love got to do with it?
Colombian ladies may very well be the exact same way; but I'm willing to abide it, since they are so beautiful to look at...
The photo of Sue, I have had since the first or second night that I met her. It depicts the super vigilant kind of confusion that she often evinced.
In the original picture, the background is a big blurred due to my shakiness with whatever phone I was using to take it; and this served to emphasize the effect of the whole world swirling around Sue, with her caught in the middle, vigilant and wary and suspicious and ready to flee at a moment's notice.
I think I might have stayed with Sue had I just ever thought that I even knew her real name. I was pretty sure that it wasn't "Sue," as, wouldn't she at least go by "Susanna," if that were the case?
And, I didn't like the intimacy and familiarity with which she would talk to other Spanish speaking people the times she ran into some of them.
I had a similar problem when I was dating Angela, a black girl, who would talk "that ghetto trash" on the phone with someone, hang up, and then try to resume the civil discussion we may have been having using proper English.
Should I have looked at is as if Angela just was bilingual, able to converse fluently with both myself, and her girlfriends on the phone who were all in the process of playing different men for what those men could provide them? Or should I have been suspicious that I was being played. I had a car and a job at the time, while Angela was living off of disability.
But, back to the photo of Sue. It had been a very dark picture, almost too dark to even "see," but I had kept it because of the look on her face.
Now, using the GIMP photo editor, I was actually able to brighten the thing, without apparently sacrificing too much "detail." The colors and hues in a digital photo are just levels that can be manipulated, after all.
No Busking Sunday Night
After having made 40 bucks over Friday and Saturday nights, I used Sunday to catch up on sleep.
I was aware that the Patriots were playing a football game in Mexico City and that, as a such a novelty, it would probably be one of the games shown by the football networks. But, rather than go to Harrah's Casino to try to watch it, I blogged yesterday's post instead.
The $24.09
This (Monday) morning, I was up at around 10 PM, having half a night's sleep in me already.
Harold the cat was on the bed next to me. There was 2 dollars and change on my coffee table. It was all the cash I had left of the 40 bucks that I had made Friday and Saturday nights.
Next to it, the laptop out of which repeatedly played the recording that I had made the night before while I slept.
It was a song called "Egg Shaped Headed Girl," and I had written it while running the Audacity editor in the background, and looking at a picture of a girl on the screen.
This was a good example of me smoking a joint and then beginning yet another new musical project, when I already have several irons in the fire.
Sure, the egg shaped headed girl song could wind up being amusing, clever and easy to listen to, after being worked on and polished up; buy why not put that effort into polishing up stuff that is going to go on the CD?
Pot; that's why.
I called the number on the back of my plastic plasma debit card and was actually able to get a human being on the phone who told me with a Pakistani accent, that the payment of 25 dollars which had been made Friday had not been "synchronized" with my plastic card; but that it now had been.
I called back to confirm that my balance was $24.09 and then went back to sleep the second half of an 8 hour "night;" waking again around 4 PM.
I walked to the Uxi Duxi, where I now sit outside at right after 8 PM. It is kind of cold out, maybe 50 degrees.
The 32 minutes of myself playing the guitar and singing softly (as it had been the middle of the night) into the Snowball microphone, and then going back and adding a snare drum to it on track 2, represented another kind of miniature milestone, in that I had been able to play for 32 minutes while keeping a pretty much steady beat. I had fallen into a kind of soothing rocking motion when playing the snare drum along with it. There were no spots where "it just stops" after a chord had been forgotten; and so, this represented progress. These are huge files, and I had to wait about 3 minutes just to apply compression to the snare drum track, before eventually undoing it and applying less of it.
I suppose tonight, I could take little sections of perfection and "repeat" them, using that effect on Audacity. Then I could practice all the other parts repeatedly over it, before reducing it back to just one repetition with all 7 parts synchronized...
The snare drum, which is one that I found on Royal Street one night, believing it to have been abandoned by someone who might have found it in the trash somewhere, used it to bang up some beer money on and then left, is actually a pretty nice drum.
Pricing snares out of the MusiciansFriend catalogue revealed that 200 dollars is about the lowest one might pay for just any old cheap snare drum, and the one I have is certainly at least in this category.
It amazes me how the sound of a snare drum appears in so much music. It's basically a percussive sound with a splash of white noise to go with it; produced by the little metal beads that sit against the bottom skin of it. It's kind of a brash sound that never seems to be in tune with anything if you listen to the "boing" sound that rings after you hit it. But, there it is on almost every record you hear; the snare drum.
I want my CD to really impress people, and I guess I have been laying the groundwork for that by sucking enough in the past, to have lowered the expectations that anyone might have.
But, that would require that I sit down for a few hours with the GIMP photo editor manual in front of me and play around, using layers and feathered edges and seamless blending etc.,
And what I would have to show for those 3 hours would be a much better picture of myself sitting in the Uxi Duxi and daydreaming about Sue. This would be time well spent, as I could use it in future fake daydreaming photos.
I haven't had any romantic interest, other than Lilly, ever since Sue, the Colombian lady left town, after I had gone to Baton Rouge the last time I went there.
She hadn't wanted to come with me; for fear that she would have to depend upon my alcoholic and unpredictable ass, as her only resource in a strange new place.
"No, we will get in some argument; and then I'll be stuck by myself there..."
Sue was kind of instrumental in my having gotten the Lilly Pad as a spot to play. I was sitting on her stoop along with Sue when Lilly had come out and soon became involved in a lengthy conversation with the former in Spanish.
Afterwards, Sue had told me: "I told her we were just friends." I took this to mean that Sue might have seen the possibility of Lilly and I getting together some time in the future, and she was allowing me to keep my options open.
Lilly, I think, first supported me in my efforts because she knew that my nice Colombian lady friend would also benefit. With Sue long gone, Lilly and I have been seen walking together along the river.
I saw a woman who reminded me of Sue on the trolley the other day. It started me thinking that; I could possibly have a girlfriend, once again, some day.
I'm not attracted to black girls. I see them as being of a material mindset; one that I have "evolved" past in my own life; and I see them as being able to keep up a ruse and "play" other people for their own gain. What's love got to do with it?
Colombian ladies may very well be the exact same way; but I'm willing to abide it, since they are so beautiful to look at...
The photo of Sue, I have had since the first or second night that I met her. It depicts the super vigilant kind of confusion that she often evinced.
In the original picture, the background is a big blurred due to my shakiness with whatever phone I was using to take it; and this served to emphasize the effect of the whole world swirling around Sue, with her caught in the middle, vigilant and wary and suspicious and ready to flee at a moment's notice.
I think I might have stayed with Sue had I just ever thought that I even knew her real name. I was pretty sure that it wasn't "Sue," as, wouldn't she at least go by "Susanna," if that were the case?
And, I didn't like the intimacy and familiarity with which she would talk to other Spanish speaking people the times she ran into some of them.
I had a similar problem when I was dating Angela, a black girl, who would talk "that ghetto trash" on the phone with someone, hang up, and then try to resume the civil discussion we may have been having using proper English.
Should I have looked at is as if Angela just was bilingual, able to converse fluently with both myself, and her girlfriends on the phone who were all in the process of playing different men for what those men could provide them? Or should I have been suspicious that I was being played. I had a car and a job at the time, while Angela was living off of disability.
But, back to the photo of Sue. It had been a very dark picture, almost too dark to even "see," but I had kept it because of the look on her face.
Now, using the GIMP photo editor, I was actually able to brighten the thing, without apparently sacrificing too much "detail." The colors and hues in a digital photo are just levels that can be manipulated, after all.
No Busking Sunday Night
After having made 40 bucks over Friday and Saturday nights, I used Sunday to catch up on sleep.
I was aware that the Patriots were playing a football game in Mexico City and that, as a such a novelty, it would probably be one of the games shown by the football networks. But, rather than go to Harrah's Casino to try to watch it, I blogged yesterday's post instead.
The $24.09
This (Monday) morning, I was up at around 10 PM, having half a night's sleep in me already.
Harold the cat was on the bed next to me. There was 2 dollars and change on my coffee table. It was all the cash I had left of the 40 bucks that I had made Friday and Saturday nights.
Next to it, the laptop out of which repeatedly played the recording that I had made the night before while I slept.
It was a song called "Egg Shaped Headed Girl," and I had written it while running the Audacity editor in the background, and looking at a picture of a girl on the screen.
This was a good example of me smoking a joint and then beginning yet another new musical project, when I already have several irons in the fire.
Sure, the egg shaped headed girl song could wind up being amusing, clever and easy to listen to, after being worked on and polished up; buy why not put that effort into polishing up stuff that is going to go on the CD?
Pot; that's why.
...Well, let's syncronize, Pakistani chick! |
I called back to confirm that my balance was $24.09 and then went back to sleep the second half of an 8 hour "night;" waking again around 4 PM.
I walked to the Uxi Duxi, where I now sit outside at right after 8 PM. It is kind of cold out, maybe 50 degrees.
There were no spots where "it just stops" after a chord had been forgotten; and so, this represented progress.
The 32 minutes of myself playing the guitar and singing softly (as it had been the middle of the night) into the Snowball microphone, and then going back and adding a snare drum to it on track 2, represented another kind of miniature milestone, in that I had been able to play for 32 minutes while keeping a pretty much steady beat. I had fallen into a kind of soothing rocking motion when playing the snare drum along with it. There were no spots where "it just stops" after a chord had been forgotten; and so, this represented progress. These are huge files, and I had to wait about 3 minutes just to apply compression to the snare drum track, before eventually undoing it and applying less of it.
I suppose tonight, I could take little sections of perfection and "repeat" them, using that effect on Audacity. Then I could practice all the other parts repeatedly over it, before reducing it back to just one repetition with all 7 parts synchronized...
The snare drum, which is one that I found on Royal Street one night, believing it to have been abandoned by someone who might have found it in the trash somewhere, used it to bang up some beer money on and then left, is actually a pretty nice drum.
Pricing snares out of the MusiciansFriend catalogue revealed that 200 dollars is about the lowest one might pay for just any old cheap snare drum, and the one I have is certainly at least in this category.
It amazes me how the sound of a snare drum appears in so much music. It's basically a percussive sound with a splash of white noise to go with it; produced by the little metal beads that sit against the bottom skin of it. It's kind of a brash sound that never seems to be in tune with anything if you listen to the "boing" sound that rings after you hit it. But, there it is on almost every record you hear; the snare drum.
I want my CD to really impress people, and I guess I have been laying the groundwork for that by sucking enough in the past, to have lowered the expectations that anyone might have.
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