not agan

Preface: This might be a little bit crazy of a post.
•What do you do when you've had a toothbrush for so many years that when you think about when you got it memories of your seventh grade teacher who you had a slight crush on come sprawling back into memory?
By now its become somewhat sentimental, I mean I cant just throw it away. That toothbrush has always had my back when I needed to take one camping or when I accidentally dropped my other toothbrush in the pot. What kind of owner would I be if I tossed "Aquafresh" my 7 year old toothbrush? A non-sentimental hygienic one i suppose.
But I have a better plan.
The other day I was having trouble deciding what to write on. I couldn't just sit down and start typing. Few people can sit down in front of a typewriter, keyboard, paper with pen, quill or crayon in hand and make love so beautiful that when they're done with the computer screen or paper it is covered in pure glory. Paragraphs nicely indented, No red underlines, no widows, no uglies.
I'm just not there yet. I don't think making any sort of love to a typewriter could yield any sort of literary achievement. Thankfully when I cant make up stories I have real life events I can write all about.
Now this all started several thursdays ago. I was, as usual, in a hurry. It was after 4:30 and I had somewhere to be. An acquaintance handed me a blue paper - I've been known to turn these little buggers into gold and share the love. following that, I was in my car speeding down the 95. Side note: Don't speed its against the law.
This paper on it didn't have much information on it. I prefer having a wealth of information whenever I get these blue 8x10's but usually I do not and well this case was no different. Well I put this paper off, I left it to rot in the best place for papers to rot. My school notebook.
A week went by. I was back to where I started. In a hurry, at a meeting and going crazy over alll the tumultuous scenarios an eighteen year old boy can get into. Minus sex, drugs and rock and roll. Minus one more thing too. That acquaintance was not at the meeting which disabled my ability to arrange any such gold making plans. That was a problem. By then Lindsey, as usual, wanted a piece of that coveted metal I can mold.
Mondays are usually good days for me. Fresh starts, clean slate, a full week to get all those little things that seem to not get done, done. I called Christina - my acquaintance to arrange a time, place, and manner to make the magic. No answer.
Tuesday. No answer. Crap. So I left a message.
Wednesday. Too late. Maybe I should email her...
Now three weeks into this little side story of my life, and mind you, Lindsey is kinda like a land lord. I am like a well mannered renter who fails to pay rent from time to time. She wanted her gold. Thank goodness for my sake Christina was at the thursday meeting. I took ahold of this catch like a biologist takes hold of a Giant Catfish caught in the Mekong river. I planned for saturday to be the big day, even though I very well knew saturday was like like a well filled backpack and the additional plan was like taking that giant catfish and stuffing it into that backpack. Fish bowl and all.
Here came a slight twist which would evidently but unknown to me at that point in time, change the format of how my saturday would pan out. It was still thursday at this point, however it was an irregular thursday. After the meeting was adjourned I went to the photo room. As I entered the room I saw on Jeffs desk a very dusty, old, and exquisite F-1n. Now strangely enough I had just earlier that day saw an F-1 on the good ol' Las Vegas Craigslist. I had gone in there earlier to talk with the photographers when Jeff Scheid offered me a food photographing job and gladly took it.
I was taking pictures of a food arrangement at 5pm. Something I usually do not do. Especially at 5pm and on a thursday. But that was only the beginning. Usually I wake up on a thursday morning and I know pretty well how my day will pan out. If a soothsayer on the street would have told me I'd be in a room with heart shaped waffles and some berries by 5pm that evening, I probably would have told them they were crazy. After of course, I took a picture of him or her.
After finishing up with the waffles and berries with the help of a kindly assistant who will remain nameless, I returned the Canon 5D, 16-35mm 2.8, 24-70 2.8 and the 180 3.5 macro which had been lent to me by Jeff.
I somehow ended up with the F-1n from his desk in my hands. It even had an AE auto winder F on it making it a pretty big non-functioning block of metal and glass. The next ten minutes seemed to be a blur of camera parts and a fluffy pink rope of feathers.
Friday. I did not want to wake up and go to school. However I did and sat, doing nothing virtually every single class period. The most work I did all school day consisted of getting on Gizmodo and Craigslist. I was so excited for the evening time, which made it difficult to spare even a minute to expanding my brain through school. I had a date. Not any old date. A double date. Not a normal double date. The kind of date where there is one me and two dates who accompany me where ever I go. It went kind of as I had expected though. I mean I tend to kind of talk to myself about various camera technicalities on nights similar to this one. These two dates weren't much for talking, they weren't even very active. At least they were good looking and foreign. They sat around all night. Now that I think of it, I think they were just using me for my skills. I later found out they needed new batteries to really get going. I should have expected that from some twenty five year old cameras. They were sportin' some pretty good frontal pieces though. A 200 2.8, 20 2.8, 35 2.8 and 50 3.5 macro.
I spent the night cleaning the cameras and brushing their insides with a toothbrush and q-tips. I had a pretty good time. I went to bed with the cameras on the desk to my side.
Saturday. Long day. Drove far. Saw some big bushes that reminded me of a train. I ended up standing in the desert, on a bridge, on a dam, on a giant lego, pushing over a shopping cart with that good ol' F-1n and the 20 2.8 in my hands all because a crazy thursday and delaying of my plans. I guess sometimes procrastination is a good thing. Like Martha Stewart used to say before she went to jail."It's a good thing."