first, I queued up for half an hour and talked to some guy about how he'd been hosed by fry's and pcclub. like trent walker was telling mikey in the casino scene, everybody has a special dream. I learned that hosed guy's dream is to open a motorcycle shop because they fuck you at the motorcycle shop.
there are some things that one tends to take for granted. now, as often as I've cursed mapquest and yahoo maps, I also love them. I need them. they and I might turn into more than just friends. maybe. I can't remember the last time I drove around semi-aimlessly trying to find something which was trying to remain concealed. though I still have a thomas guide in my car (from like 1977, I might add. furthermore, I hate the "new' layout with the zip code crap), I haven't referred to it in years. I have plenty of scraps of paper upon which I've scrawled directions to somewhere or other. but no thomas guide. by now, you may have ascertained that I was lost. I had to find another place in the same neighborhood as that fry's. but I couldn't. I hate burbank. the streets are all curvy and the street numbers all suck. it's got that santa monicaish vibe to it. except not cool. and not near the beach. and yes.
I finally found my destination and avoided getting a ticket for each of those quasi-legal u-turns. by the time I was done with that place, I'd missed my poi lesson. not by much, but I'd missed it.
as such, I had some time to kill before my darkroom adventure.
tonight was the night. lots of wanting, frustration and condescension, not to mention a little bit of planning and sweat (dude - it's a touch warmish in the valley) has gone into tonight. culmination. tonight, I was going to print a photo, damnit.
thanks to vuk and michael's invaluable aid, I'd managed to have a darkroom in the guest house in a paltry two building sessions, two shopping sessions, and one prior failed attempt at printing. geniuses: those two - tell you what. in my possession lay a bunch of chemicals on whose containers it say harmful or fatal if swallowed. do you know why they says harmful or fatal if swallowed? it's because they're harmful or fatal if swallowed. don't worry if that's not funny to you. I promise that was funny to some people. if it wasn't funny to you, it's likely because your parents didn't really love you.
so michael and I worked on printing a "bulletproof" negative. for the uninitiated, as I was before that night, that means underexposed. i.e., when you print the picture, it will be too light. this was a picture of a naked girl. as such it was of vital importance that we fix this photo. we had to have a godawfully long exposure. we had to dodge. we had to burn. one of the more problematic areas of the photo was the nice young lady's chest area. so we had a good running "dodge the tit" set of commentary.
we focused. we exposed, we dodged, we washed, we tried, we spilled, we did all those cool darkroom things that you just don't get at thrifty. I had a grand time and now I ask you all to bear witness to this fully operational dark room. I realize that the power to print in black and white is insignificant next to the power of the force, but it makes me happy. and despite the harmful or fatal if swallowed chemistry, it's safer than opening your own deathstar.
despite wading through customer service. despite getting lost. despite missing my fire lesson. despite having to put up with michael, that wanky bitch, all night, I had a marvelous time. I intend to do it again soon.
in the end, we had a mostly passable print of michael's wife from when she was 18.