I’ve lost my camera.

Nearly 2 weeks ago, my camera went missing. Along with the camera was its case, a (good) lens, and a memory card full of pictures I hadn’t yet uploaded to my computer. I took a blow monetarily but emotionally I’m devastated.


I never imagined how much losing a camera would affect me. It’s just a material object that costs a lot of money. But I’ve lost sleep and productivity over it. The frozen frames of memory are irreplaceable. There’s the stress of finding a replacement that won’t hurt us too much financially yet provide me the same benefit of meeting my criteria for a camera that will allow me to continue progressing in my new hobby, photography.


I can continue rambling on about a lost love to uninterested passer-byers but instead, let’s focus on what I gained. My lost camera was my first enthusiast camera. I’ve always been fascinated by photography but never had the financial means, education, and support system needed to pursue the hobby.


This camera allowed me to explore that world.


Now, I know what Aperture, F-stop, ISO, DOF, White Balance, etc. means. And not just by definition either. I was able to experience this by turning knobs, pushing buttons, and seeing the results of my curiosity manifested on a computer screen or a printout.


I’ve learned a bit of history as well. With an adapter, you can attach old lenses (50+ years, even!) to these new cameras. It’s a cool feeling seeing things from behind a vintage lens. A lot of old lens companies no longer exist, but they made great glass. Certainly sturdier than today’s counterparts.


I’m sure most of the things I learned could have been covered by a class and several books, but that’s the point. For the cost of a photography class, I learned about not only the camera and its functions, but I learned a lot about myself as well. I know what I like to shoot and what direction I want to take my hobby. Even more simple, I know that I really do love photography. And that makes my loss a little easier to stomach.


I guess it really is better to have loved and lost…

Goodbye!

A Slight Detour

Apparently it seems like I haven't been blogging like I should. I can attribute this to my hesitancy to write anything when I don't have everything figured out. Well, I figured a couple things out.

I have 2 blogs. This one will be my personal blog where I post about random things that interest me. My 2nd blog, A Journey of Sorts, will be about my life with significant other and wife extraordinaire, Kyreen.

Why not just have a singular blog? Because I have a multitude of interests (which I hope to share here) that would overrun any attempt at documenting my family life. It's best that I keep these two seperate. So, if you have time, head on over to kyreenandglen.blogspot.com and find out more about my better half and I.

He is me. She is my wife.

The Annual Cabo Adventure 2011 Part 2

I failed to point out in part 1 the skill of Mexican Airport Marketers. And by skill, I mean ability to flat out lie. Upon arriving at the airport, we knew exactly what to do – head straight out the exit and wave down a taxi. This was our 3rd time in Cabo and we were no strangers to vocal grip of the concierge. And still, as we were headed out through 1 of 2 possible exits, they got us.

“Excuse me, where are you staying?” A man in a bright orange shirt tries to halt us before I can make a break for the door.

“I know where to go, thanks,” I proclaim. This was half true. I wasn’t 100% sure where to go, but I was 90% sure that if I listened to this guy, I would be sucked into a timeshare presentation.

“You’re going the wrong way.”

I stop, look back, and see Kyreen standing in front of him.

“See? You’re going towards ‘residents’,” he continues. “You need to go the other way. Where are you staying?”

“Cabo Azul,” she blurts. It doesn’t matter where we’re staying. On one exit, a sign reads “residents”. On the other, “groups”. Now, we’re in a group, but not on a tour. We’re not residents, but we are flying in technically as individuals. But that doesn’t matter. The man had us and we were walking toward the counter.

The guy behind the counter was a fast, smooth talking guy with a stocky build. Sub in a Brooklyn/Filipino accent and he’d easily be my uncle Rene. He talks fast so and grabs our attention with promises of free transportation and fun excursions. We bite. Dammit, we bite.

We eventually walked right out of the doors I was headed towards in the first place. “Residents”. Yeah, right. We hop into our now “free” taxi ride to our resort, awaiting our first excursion of our adventure – a timeshare presentation in the morning. Yay me.

On the upside, we got 2 bottles of tequila, a free ride, and a free zip-lining adventure for 4. All for the price of 3 hours, countless “no’s”, and a little bit of my dignity. Win.

The Annual Cabo Adventure 2011, part 1

Every year my family gets together in Cabo, MX. This will be my 3rd time here and it never gets old. Time with family is a rarity for me since I live so far away from them and I do my best to make sure every moment with them counts. I think it’s fair to say that the moments counted.

Photo Card

Tropical Wishes Holiday

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“There’s a first time for everything.”

While I’m no stranger to poorly written paragraphs, this would be the first time I’ve dedicated a time and space on the internet to record my life. I’ve always viewed social networks like Myspace and Facebook as a way to interact with people. While I do realize that these avenues evolve into other things such as “sharing” and “following”, I’ve always found it rather inappropriate for me to post 800 words on someone’s wall or to clutter someone’s stream with yet another picture of my dog.
Instead, I’ve decided to start a journal for my family to know what I’ve been up to. It’s a good excuse for me to disconnect and reflect on my day and my family reaps the benefit knowing just exactly how I convince myself that my life isn’t really that mundane (it is). I guess what I’m saying is that I’m doing this for myself, but I’ve somehow convinced myself that I’m doing it for my family so I’m forced to stick with it. Whatever works, I say.
That being said, let us begin.
Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad. It’s Glen.