So much for my Nikon D90, for which I slapped $1400 on that piece of equipment.
It’s been stored for 10 months and was barely used before it went into storage through the error of NY International Shipping who had hired immigrants to move my stuff and who did not have rudimentary English language skills — kind of necessary when you’re working with the American public.
NYIS refused to accept responsibility for that error and held their slimy pistols over me for months.
Damn. This year has been a real doozy!
So anyway, I finally retrieved my camera yesterday afternoon and was gonna test it on the rally today. I went in cold, without a back-up, which a more practical person would do, but I saw this as a real adventure for my spirit!
It gave me problems on the field, the shutter kept going out on me, so I lost lots of pictures, fumbling around with its software. I don’t like losing pictures. So that was frustrating. But now that I am home and ready to write and get up some pixs, I can’t find the pixs anywhere or a menu to tell me where to go.
Ugh. I hate that! Getting stuck, in the middle of nowhere.
Some kind of processing took place, however, because I saw flashing green lights in motion (unless they were tiny UFOs instead?) on the camera, and iPhoto opened, but nothing happened. Even though something was happening then!
Now for the rally.
dC is one fucking weird city. Must be, if you think about it. We have government — its heartbeat — in the midst of us. Then we have lots of museums. Lots of museums. Which apparently are very popular.
But let’s face it. Politicians are some of the slimiest human beings alive. Harlots of the highest order. What gets them off is power and money. Many are corrupt. But they aren’t ousted when they ought to have been because they had until then done a good job hiding behind their indiscretions and perverse behaviors.
So if we look at that alone there is not much to recommend the place. Or the people. Because these people are worshipers of the Goddess of Power. That’s the scepter here, the Golden Fleece.
And then, of course, we have Glen Beck (is that how you spell his name? Ick.) running around loose. He definitely should be tethered somewhere where all he can do is eat grass by a tree for the rest of his life — however long that may be. But it should be interesting to see what significance the historians place on Glenn Beck.
I have never seen anything like what I saw today.
Hundreds of thousands of people had gathered on the Mall and the adjoining streets to celebrate the insane direction this country has taken! It was a huge moral victory for all of us who braved the beautiful weather and came out here to see all those other people who feel the same way you do about something!
It was amazing!
I loved it!
Frustrating in parts, though, because the team that produced this show obviously severely underestimated the turn out and there were not enough speakers, so thousands and thousand of people could not hear what the fuck Jon Stewart was saying. I became so annoyed, however, that I wanted to leave. Furious at those inept producers who were unable to dream a bit.
Still, I did not leave, at the insistence of my husband, so we just moved around and shot interesting pictures and saw interesting people, with interesting messages on their posters, intelligent messages, creative, good-natured thoughts — yeah, it was nice.