Today, while copying and pasting my homework (Java), I did three loads of laundry. Then I turned in my networking final project (not copied and pasted) and grabbed my camera and my car keys. I went to the store (again) and then washed my car in the automatic car wash. When I was a little kid, the automatic car wash freaked me out. It scared the crap out of me and I would cry and cry and my sisters and brother would make fun of me and I would cry even harder. I just knew we were all going to be killed and eaten by that orange mechanical arm. It seems that
forty years later as an adult, nothing has changed. It still scares the crap out of me and I want to cry and cry but now, as an adult, I know that my tears only make it hungrier.
Where was I? Oh, yes, the car wash. I escaped with my life and a cleaner car and then I decided to take a walk and take a few pictures. I live in an historic area (is it “a historic” or “an historic”. I always thought “h” was treated as a vowel in these instances, which would make it “an” … such as, “it is an honor …”).
This is a picture I took during a tornado last year. In fact, I just checked the date, and it was one year ago today. Cool. For the record, this is not photoshopped – the sky really was purple. I’d only had my camera about six weeks at this point and so any picture that came out was just plain luck.
The roofline is my next door neighbor’s house because I’m a midget and couldn’t get it out of the shot. Today, I walked down the block for a closer look.