Lately, I’ve been crazy about tennis. Maybe it’s all the free time I have on my hands, maybe it’s Rafael Nadal—it’s really anyone’s guess. But the fact remains that sitting and watching two players hit a ball back and forth for several hours sounds like a blissful afternoon to me.

While I’m still learning the terminology, techniques, and strategies behind the sport, I consider myself an expert in tennis photojournalism; it honestly yields some of the most awkward sports images I’ve ever seen—which I love, of course.

It’s as if the sport isn’t really meant to be captured in a still image. But occasionally there are those rare moments when all the necessary elements convene to produce an amazing, graceful, and transcendental photograph that makes you realize how balletic the sport can be.

Also, I’ve realized that Rafa is the best. Go tennis!

Let me begin by saying that opening a wine bottle by using a screwdriver to push the cork in (instead of pulling it out) is not a good idea. But it will work.

The other night, Beth and I were set on opening a bottle of Cabernet to drink with dinner, but when we went to open it, we remembered that we broke the corkscrew the night before. It was the most horrific epiphany ever. But with the wondrous knowledge the internet has to offer, we were able to find a few solutions to our corkscrew problem:

First method: use a screw driver to insert a screw into the cork, then use the back of a hammer to eke the cork out.
Problem: we didn’t have a screw. And a nail didn’t sufficiently grab onto the cork.

Second method: somehow push the cork into the bottle (which doesn’t necessitate piercing it).
Problem: the only item sturdy enough to accomplish this was our screwdriver. I managed to push the cork in, but wine splashed out.
Not a problem: the table cloth happened to be the exact color of the red wine.
Oh wait, problem again: the screwdriver attachment/head fell off and into the bottle, firmly secured in the cork.

So in the end, we drank a bottle of red with our steak and warm chickpea salad. But, we dirtied a table cloth, bent several nails, and broke a perfectly good screwdriver. So depending on how badly you need to get crunked, it may not be worth the trouble. (That’s a trick though; readers of this blog always need to be crunked.)

I finally looked at some of the pictures I took while in Miami for the Panasonic seminar, and I was surprised to find that some of them turned out well. I’m getting better at understanding composition, and the little point-and-shoot cameras they gave us to walk around with did a fairly good job of capturing the colors of South Beach. The above picture is my favorite because I like the lines of the hotel and the palm tree.

As I don’t want to post too many pictures on the main page, click through to see additional photos from the trip.

(read on »)

Today I ponder: What does one wear to Nerdfest ’09, aka Comic Con? (I call it that out of love; nerds are my people.) Dan [a nerd] said I need to take my outfit seriously.

I could go the route of Indie-ish Reporter by wearing jeans, Chucks, and a button down; It would scream, “I’m just here to observe! Please keep your distance!” so I don’t have to. Or I could actually get into the Comic Con character by wearing wackadoo garb.

Since I don’t see myself showing up dressed as Thor (who Dan informed me is a superhero that underwent a sex change during the series and is thus rivaling The Disabler for Bridget’s most obvious hero incarnation), I figure I could try for the Enid-from-Ghost World (by way of Luella Bartley Spring 2008) look:

Note the tiny batman symbol on the cardigan. I think this may be a happy medium.

And with this post, it’s official: I should be reading comic books. This is almost like college where I knew every miniscule detail about the theater department, but had nothing to do with theater itself.