Other posts related to flowers

How The Harvest Moon Almost Killed Me

Lincoln Adams | October 5, 2009 @ 8:45 pm

So Sunday I crossed the entire breadth of Long Island under the reasonable assumption that if I just drove out east far enough, I would find a completely unobstructed view of the horizon for the harvest moon, as well as get some nice snapshots of the scenery. Under that logic I decided to drive, and drive, and drive, and drive, until I ended up at a place called Montauk, which is about as far east as you can possibly go in the entire state of New York before driving into the Atlantic Ocean. :D

Montauk - The End

The trip was nice, until it turned into one lane and I had drivers up my ying yang while the guy in front me of course has to drive 20 miles an hour, because what’s the hurry, really? So I’m feeling myself getting squeezed by tailgaters and slow pokes the whole last hour of driving before I finally and mercifully pulled into the town/village/hamlet(??) of Montauk.

Since I had a couple of hours to kill I decided to explore the area, beginning of course with:

Nothing says small town like a good old fashioned burger.

Nothing says small town like a good old fashioned burger.

I walked in and the place looked like it was 100 years old. I placed an order for their specialty burger and watched as a few more people came in, still dressed in summer clothes, all of them barefoot.

:blink:

Clearly there were hicks in New York too. I waited like 10 minutes for my burger, and when I finally got around to eating it, it tasted a bit… fishy to me. No, I mean it really had a fishy taste to it. Bleh. And I HATE seafood too. :sick:

Ah well, I made up for that by having pizza instead. :D

Californian pizza in New York?  FAIL

Californian pizza in New York? FAIL

I took a walk through town, not much to it really, just a few stores sprinkled here and there, though I did find an amusing junk store with these signs on the door:

Heh.

Heh.


 
I could live in this store forever.

I could live in this store forever.

Also passed by a florist too:

Preeeeetty....

Preeeeetty....


 
So prettttttyyy...

So prettttttyyy...

After walking around town a bit, I decided to chance a quick trip down to the harbor before going out to Montauk Point to set up my camera for the moonshot. As I pulled out, I saw this in my sideview mirror:

Thank you world for all these constant reminders that I'm single.  Douche balls.

Thank you world for all these constant reminders that I'm single. Douche balls.

I found a beach that offered a vantage view of the channel boats navigate through in order to enter Lake Montauk, but the beach was infested with flies. I only managed to get two or three shots off before I decided to flee and get back onto the parking lot.

Why yes, the branch DID have carvings of stupid skanky teen couples professing their love for each other.  OMG, can I fricking DIE now??

Why yes, the branch DID have carvings of stupid skanky teen couples professing their love for each other. OMG, can I fricking DIE now??

I didn’t take two steps onto the parking lot before I sprained my ankle and spiraled almost face first into the cement before finally catching myself. Oh my goodness. PAIN. I limped the rest of the way to my car and I just knew this day was going to get worse before it got better.

I could still walk though, albeit a bit tenderly, so I started to drive my way back to the state park about an hour before sunset. The water was really amazing. Everywhere you went you were surrounded by water:

Man, don't make any wrong turns here.

Man, don't make any wrong turns here.

The park included the famous Montauk lighthouse, and after paying $6 for parking(??!?), I was finally able to take a photo of it for the first time:

Gee, it looked a lot bigger to me in the postcards...

Gee, it looked a lot bigger to me in the postcards...

That’s when I realized I had a problem. The lighthouse was closed at sunset, and the rest of the area was covered in shrubs and trees. It was almost worse than being in the city. I simply had no idea where to find an ideal spot so I could watch the moon rise. So I went up to the beach and started walking around the lighthouse, carrying my camera with the tripod attached. This is what constitutes a beach in this area by the way:

I'm supposed to walk on THIS?

I'm supposed to walk on THIS?

And yep, while I was walking across, I sprained my ankle again. Not as bad as the first time, but just enough to aggravate me and remind me once again that I suck.

The fishermen apparently LOVE to fish in these areas though:

You'll never catch anything!  NEVAH!!  Ahhhhhahahahahah!

You'll never catch anything! NEVAH!! Ahhhhhahahahahah!


 
What the flips is this thing??

What the flips is this thing??

For some reason I actually thought there would be a manmade sidewalk because I could see a fence in the distance, so I continued trucking along, gingerly walking/limping over rocks until I finally found myself on a rocky ledge behind the lighthouse. Did I say sidewalk before? Well not quite:

You have GOT to be kidding me.

You have GOT to be kidding me.

I was already halfway on this ledge before I realized there would in fact be no smooth-as-silk sidewalk waiting for me, and it actually would have been more dangerous for me to turn back since there was a bunch of snot nosed little turdlings that were hopping the rocks around me and blocking the way. I couldn’t believe how unsafe it was. One slip and your boom booms go bye bye as you plunge 30 odd feet to your certain death. On top of this there were fishermen all over these ledges, tossing back their fishing poles at random moments so that God forbid you had the misfortune of being behind them as the bait and line flew over you. Can you say fish food? Oy.

The sun was already beginning to set now, so I made my way through as fast as I could on this crazy obstacle course, with a twice sprained ankle and a camera + tripod leaning on my shoulder. Hop, hop, hop, hop, OW! *&^%, hop, hop, hop…

I finally made it off the ledge, which of course led to an area where I was now sandwiched between two small cliffs, obstructing my view even more. Sigh. There was an unpaved road that led upwards, so I rested a minute or two to catch my breath, than made my way up the road. I still could not see any moon, just shrubs and trees and cable wires and whatnot. I might as well have been in an Amazonian jungle. I walked and walked, the light of the sun slowly fading away, until I came across a gigantic pool of MUD that covered the entire road. There was absolutely no way around it.

Why, God, WHY?

I just stood for a few minutes and looked at it, before finally letting out my breath and deciding that it didn’t look too deep, so maybe if I just hugged the side enough my shoes wouldn’t go that deep into the mud.

So I got as close to the side as possible, then took my first step.

*SPLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH*

Oh Mommy. The pool of mud was like a foot deep. I was completely submerged up to my ankles. I groaned as I plopped through, one SPLOOOOSH at a time until I finally made my way past the pool.

Squish, squish, squish, squish. And then of course I sprained my ankle AGAIN, almost dropping my camera as I stumbled a few feet before catching myself. Man.

By this time, dusk had finally descended, and yes, of course, I still could not see the moon.

I finally gave up and squished back to my car. Before leaving I decided to see if I could get a glimpse of the moon and finally at long last I saw it, even though it was now past its harvest peak. Since I didn’t want to leave empty handed, I swung around and drove back into the park. I must have done several circles trying to find an ideal spot but I just could not find any, except for one spot that was already taken up by some dweebie photographer, and of course he has a girl with him sitting adoringly at his feet while the man gets himself the perfect moon shot. God in heaven, should have driven off the road so I could nail his bony little …

But anyhow, I decided to just go back into the parking lot and get whatever shots I could from there. This was one of the only moon shots I could manage:

Yes it's fuzzy.  Yes it looks like the sun.  But it's the moon, I assure you.

Yes it's fuzzy. Yes it looks like the sun. But it's the moon, I assure you.

As for the rest of the photos, I used a bracketing technique on my camera to get shots with different exposures, then used a software program to merge them all together to create what’s called an HDR image. It’s not perfect, but overall, I guess I could have done far worse considering the day I was having.

Probably the best photo I took then.

Probably the best photo I took then.


 
The final result.  Yes that's the moon, not the sun.  Shut up already.

The final result. Yes that's the moon, not the sun. Shut up already.

With night fully upon me now, it was time to take the long trip back home. I stopped by a Carvel since a day of having pizza and burgers simply cannot be complete unless it’s topped off with ice cream. :D

The Carvel was empty, so I walked inside an ordered a chocolate cone. Suddenly it was instantly filled up by 30 people. I’m not kidding, in the space of a minute, it was PACKED, including some weird looking elephant-man type dude who felt it necessary to stand two inches behind me while I was waiting for my order. Finally I looked back at him:

“Dude, seriously, a little space?”

He stepped back once, about 4 less steps than I would have liked. The crap was taking my ice cream so long?

Ah, here we go, sheesh. I grabbed my cone, licked and limped back to my car again, and steeled myself for the long, lonely drive back.

Maybe next year will be better.

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A Bear of a Controversy

Lincoln Adams | December 15, 2007 @ 2:58 pm

Last October I entered a link building contest for Pink Internet Marketing, where the winning prize was a cute, fluffy bear. Amazingly enough I won the contest, and after Danielle emailed me to let me know I won, I sent her my address, though I left my name out for the sake of privacy.

After that, I never heard from her again. After receiving no bear for about a month, I sent her a friendly email, then sent another one to a different address of hers a week later just to see what was up. She hadn’t been updating her blog regularly, so I figured she must have been really busy, and let it go at that.

Then she updated her blog yesterday, so I left a comment in a Ashton Kutcher fashion, “DUDE! Where’s my bear??” I honestly thought she may have just forgotten and needed a reminder.

She deleted the comment. WTF??? :huh:

For someone trying to create a successful internet marketing business, it doesn’t really help your credibility to run a link building contest, only to scam the contest winner out of his prize and ignore his repeated inquiries, ya know? Unless this is just a blackhat SEO technique I happened to be an unwitting victim of. :blink:

I wish I knew what went wrong. Maybe she changed her mind and simply couldn’t part with her beloved teddy. Maybe I wrote something on my blog that somehow offended her. Maybe the bear got lost in the mail. Really, I would have accepted virtually any explanation and been ok with it. It is just a bear after all.

But this silent treatment really pisses me off, and damn if it isn’t typical of how women usually treat me. One day you’re humming along, all is fine in the world, the birds singing, the flowers blooming, and then without warning, phone calls suddenly go unanswered, emails get ignored, and you’re left in the rain to wonder what had horribly gone so wrong.

Ah well. I guess I’ll just have to grin and “bear” it.

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A Day of Infamy

Lincoln Adams | April 17, 2007 @ 11:44 pm

The REAL storm wasn’t the Nor’easter that recently hit us, it was the one that followed me to work today (and beyond). :gloomy:

When I came in I proceeded to get absolutely pummeled by a mountain of work, completely catching me off guard because stupid me, I actually thought the Nor’easter would create a slow work day for us. Yeah right. Evidently our esteemed court system thought otherwise, and happily dished out more restraining orders than I’ve ever seen in 3 lifetimes. Good grief.

Then I got into it with my boss as I kept grilling him for why he was refusing to help me in putting a schedule together that would allow me to go to law school. His ultimatum was that if I didn’t like it I could always transfer out, and with a shrug he washed his hands of the whole matter.

But it didn’t stop there. I complained to him about the mouse droppings that were on my desk, and he asked me why I didn’t clean it up myself. Was this guy purposely being dense here, or was he just born an assface? You don’t just clean mouse droppings with a simple wipe and expect it to be clean. The area needed to be sterilized before it can be used again. But this seems to matter to my boss, not at all.

Then I found out he was no longer authorizing overtime for my coworkers, which meant I’d be by myself at the busiest time of day to man the phones, an absolute no-no for me since I was hearing impaired. I did the best I could under the circumstances, but after dealing with clerks who spoke secondhand English with a thick accent for the better part of an hour, I knew it was not going to be a good day.

The day would mercifully come to an end, but not before I find out that Uptown Girl had in fact been stringing me along this whole time, and never did have any serious interest in me, except possibly as distant friends. Gee I wish I would have known that before I sent her the damned flowers for her birthday. I want my 30 bucks back.

What a day.

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A Flowery Beginning?

Lincoln Adams | April 16, 2007 @ 1:00 am

It was Uptown Girl’s birthday recently, so I decided to surprise her by having flowers delivered to her doorstep. I wanted to show her I was sincerely interested in her, and I admit I was kinda hoping the flowers would tug at her heart strings a little more too. :love:

I got several text messages from her when she got them, so that’s encouraging. Nothing about me of course is normal, and if I hadn’t told her I was hearing impaired and hated using the phone, I’m sure she would have called instead. Trying to generate something solely via email with someone who is not much of an Internet person to begin with is, to put it mildly, a bit frustrating. Especially when that someone is so busy at times she barely has time to herself, let alone the time to email someone. I was going to have to call her in order to sustain things

I knew I was going to have to go out into the real world if I wanted to get somewhere with her, and even though she was understanding and was willing to take things slow, I couldn’t string her along forever.

So I began the process of improving my hygiene and my health. My experience so far though tells me this was not going to be a walk in the park for me. First I went out and bought some anti-acne facial wash to clean up my face a little. The net result was no change in my acne, but my lips began to shrivel up like I had swallowed a pound of alum. Even a week after I stopped using the wash my lips were still parched and crusty. I also had dried skin on my nose that still wouldn’t go away after applying several cans of vitamin E and aloe vera cream on it, a body wash whose pleasant odor dissipated five seconds after I got out of the shower, deodorant that gave my armpits rashes even though they contained “all natural” ingredients, nose and ear hair that even a weed whacker would have problems gutting, and perpetually sweaty palms that drive me so crazy I’m considering using a blow torch to keep them dry.

Cripes this was hard. It was like my own body was furiously plotting against me, determined to ensure I’d live out the rest of my days as an unwed hermit. Compounding things even more was the fact that I haven’t had a decent wardrobe in years, partly due to wearing a uniform on my job (thus vacating the need for any dressy attire) and my Homer Simpson shaped figure.

No wonder I’m so afraid to step outside the door. And now I have this beautiful and accomplished woman that I’ve somehow managed to get the attention of, but because my stupid ass wasn’t willing to wait and get my body under control first before I started seeding dating profiles halfway around the galaxy, I now have to deal with the possibility that I will completely humiliate myself and ruin my chances with a rare and decent girl, the likes of whom may come only once in this lifetime.

For whatever reason, I seem to be continuously pitted against insurmountable odds in my quest for a life (and some smoochies…. ok lots of smoochies). I can either toss in the towel and decide this is a war I can never win, or take it head on, Rocky style.

And I think if I do go down for the count, then I should at least go down swinging.

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