The problem with having a lot of photography journals on your friends list is that some folks just don't lj-cut images that are extra wide.
Interesting new feature on lj... a list of folks popular with your friends.
Who you might be interested in...The following friends are listed often by your friends, but not by you...Hmm… certainly a little accounting for taste, there. I'd say that there are about three people on that list that I enjoy seeing "around"... and there are about fifteen people on there that I'm not crazy about... had on my list for a while, or know by indirect connection. There are a few wildcards though. Some folks I don't know at all are -
debby,
rillifane,
thistimearound,
coutlaw,
gozar and
beckmermaid. Oddly, the only community was
lj_maintenance... I'd have thought that there'd be more. I'll peek in on them when time avails itself to me. Probably sometime in November. Thanks to
latraviata for the linkie.
I'm glad that it seems that the snipers in Maryland have been caught... I hope that's the end of that horrible stress. One less thing for folks to worry about. That's a layer of the onionskin I can peel off. I hope that decompression continues... I feel a couple of weights remaining to be lifted.
I really like the
Salem police department's shoulder patch. That's the real logo.
Random Scotto factoid - I associate scarecrows with ghosts, but I don't think of them as frightening. I feel that it's the
arms outstretched perpendicular, strikes me more like a waiting and friendly embrace rather than something that's been crucified. Perhaps the ghost vibe comes from the old clothes involved in the production I think. The last costume I wore was a scarecrow, going to see Lenny Kravitz with Nicole and Heather... (They were The Wicked Witch and Dorothy, by the way... Both looked outstanding. I still have the floppy hat that I wore, somewhere.) I got some nice compliments when I went out with those two..."Way to go! Lucky Man!" People tended to assume I was dating one or both of them. They were funny... they'd make up stories about me, and then start to believe them… because of something I might have said offhand. I'd feed their imagination by never confirming or denying anything, instead, just leaving open-ended questions with replies that instead raised more queries.

Sweet dreams, dear journal. Or in the words of my pet skeleton...
and when I say good night
the pictures in my head
will dance around the room
and frolic in my bed
and when I say good day
they hide behind my eyes
waiting for the dreaming
to bring them back to life