Tag Archives: photography

Fun Fair = A Loose Interpretation Of Both Fun And Fair

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I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a fair or not. Here in the Midwest, fairs are kind of a big deal. It’s all the farmers and corn and cows and stuff.

Thus, I have very specific expectations in mind when a “fair” is involved. There needs to be a hint of funnel cakes mixed with farm animals in the air. Questionable Carnies lurking in the shadows. A poorly assembled, rusted out Ferris Wheel. So you can imagine my disappointment when I helped my friend Jo out with a local fun fair for her workplace.

When you add “fun” in front of “fair” it apparently takes all of the awesome things out of a fair and substitutes it with cute, sticky, and greedy children who are attempting to eat their body weight in snowcones – which we were supplying along with cotton candy.

Anyway, we rose early on Saturday morning and loaded up the box truck to head out to the fun fair.

P.S. Nothing makes you feel quite more like a pedophile than driving around in a big box truck with a snowcone and cotton candy machine in the back.


I don’t know when she’s gonna finally realize that I’ll never stop taking pictures of her.

As we were circling for about and hour trying to find the place, I may or may not have noticed a Big Kmart with a Little Caesars blow up man out front. This information came in handy when we reached our destination and realized we had an hour to kill. Don’t even think we didn’t polish off a large hot n’ ready at 10:30am, while sitting next to the men’s underwear section.

Not to say that we couldn’t finish the rest, but we did start feeling like pigs a little bit. The confused looks from the cashier weren’t helping.

Back at the Fun Fair, we became cotton candy and snowcone making afficianados.

We may or may not have eaten all of our mistakes.

Seriously, she just needs to stop trying to hide.

That is an expert at work, my friends.

I don’t know if you’ve ever made cotton candy. I don’ t know why you would have, unless you ARE a Carnie (in which case I apologize for previous statements) but it’s probably the grossest, stickiest, cobwebbyest job ever.

Then someone came by with free ice cream sandwiches. I was taught never to turn down free treats from strangers.  The universe just didn’t want us to win that day.

By the end of the day, my cotton candy was so fluffy and perfect that the kids didn’t even want to go near any other forms of air-blown sugar.

Wondering where I went? I have returned to blogging over at my whole foods blog Celery and the City, where we live so clean it’s like your insides took a bath.

The Universe Is Allergic To Me Turning 29

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Every year, without fail, June 25th comes creeping in to steal away another year of my life and inconspicuously plant two more gray hairs that I won’t discover until I’ve just eaten an entire Little Caesars pizza at 10am and I go into the bathroom and notice them under the florescent lights.  Oh, just me? Although, a quick smile was brought to my face when I received this present from one of my favorite bloggers on all of THE INTERNETS, Bea Schooled – she’s a brilliant photoshopping goddess. This could quite possibly be the most disgusting combination of things the world has ever known. Well done. And thank you from the bottom of my blackened heart for all the warm birthday wishes. They made me want to vomit.

Remember that introspective birthday post that you’ve been expecting? Yea, that can’t happen now because did you see that picture I just posted? There’s no way I can concentrate when Neil Diamond is in the room.

Last weekend, it occurred to me that sometime soon I might be approaching 30. It’s just a hunch I had. And I decided I need to do something about that. Like, stop time. Or, jump off a cliff. But then, I thought of all the whining you’d miss out on if I did that and I set myself straight. Panties unbundled, please.

So we’re starting with my birthday eve – 6.24.11. I got together with my favorite girls and they knew exactly how to lift my spirits.

Homemade tiramisu.

Naked Goodwill barbies. It’s really tough to find the brunettes… I have such quality friends.

Then, the worst day of the year: my birthday… 6.25.11. My friend Jo got us free tix to see Lee DeWyze, who was playing in an outdoor venue downtown. I’ll be honest, I hadn’t heard his stuff before although I knew he’d won American Idol. I must say, he was rather good. Almost as good as the nachos.

Then, we met up with some of our other girls and got my favorite drink: Key Lime Martini.

At 11pm, we all sat in our cars in the parking lot determining whether or not we were too tired to go to another place. Then we got depressed because we were actually having that conversation. When the police finally broke us up cus we were blocking the entire gas station entrance, we went to another bar, where we scrunched on a couch outside and accidentally struck up a conversation with the keyboardist and drummer who were touring with Mr. Lee DeWyze.

It all started cus the keyboard player sneezed and I yelled, “Are you allergic to this town? Cus we definitely are.”

Then, they gave us some drum lessons on the street. And yes, I informed them I blog a lot and there would be a good chance they’d end up on there.

The evening ended at 6am. They were a blast and it was a good night. As far as birthdays go.

Oh, and Universe, you really outdid yourself this year with the hard drive crash with non-recoverable data, one grandma in the hospital, one grandpa dying and the ant infestation! Props to you!

Wondering where I went? I have returned to blogging over at my whole foods blog Celery and the City, where we live so clean it’s like your insides took a bath.

Life Lately In Pictures: Failures Brought To You By My Camera Phone

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I had like 7 dreams last night.

First, I was shot in the stomach and pulled the bullet out myself, while driving to the hospital. Then, I was being chased through the jungle by kidnappers. Then, I was eating cupcakes in my mom’s kitchen as I watched my dad get assaulted in the backyard.

Now either I really need to stop eating hummus before bed, or I need to quit falling asleep to 24 on Netflix.

You know how when you have so much going on in your head you feel overwhelmed even trying to put together a cohesive thought? Well, I can’t even choose which thought I’d like to try to put together at this point. That’s bad.

So, instead, I’m going give you a glimpse into my past week, which consisted of consecutive failures on my part. And on the universe’s part.

I’m gonna kick this one off with my mom’s birthday dinner, when my dad, who couldn’t wait for the waitress to bring him a spoon, ate his ice cream with a butter knife. Like a 5 year-old. Except not even that, cus they aren’t allowed to play with knives.

The next day, I was attempting to sit down on the couch with some food, watch TV, and relax for like two minutes. As I went to grab the blanket on the couch, it knocked over this glass onto my carpet, which was full of cranberry juice. Not only cranberry juice though, ground flax seeds because they are good for the ticker and you know how I almost had that heart condition. Ever try to get cranberry juice out of cream carpet? How about when it’s mixed with ground seeds? Oh, but what you can’t see is the wine glass that was still there left from the night before, which landed on the other side of the coffee table and splashed red wine all over the side of my white couch.

My friend Jo (eye patch girl) and I have decided start walking on a quasi-regular basis. We started last week. I also started discovering that McDonalds cheeseburgers are not only delicious when drunk, but also when you’re about to go for a walk.

When in the middle of the worst storm you ever remember having, while staring at a funnel cloud, it’s a bad time to realize you live in an upper unit condo, with absolutely no tornado plan whatsoever. Or flashlight. Or radio.

While setting up for your grandparent’s garage sale, this is high on the list of things you don’t want to discover.

Stumbling upon an entire AISLE of varieties of boxed wine. It was like a hidden paradise.

My nightstand the next morning. That is crust from a sandwich that I apparently demanded at 4 a.m. because I couldn’t get my hands on any McDonalds cheeseburgers.

Finally being in the mood to paint and then when you get all the colors home they look NOTHING like they did in the store, under the stupid florescent lighting. Yet another reason why it should be banned from the world. So, then you take it back 70 times to have it remixed and then you just decide to watch 24 on Netflix cus it’s too dark to paint.

Last week, when we were supposed to go walking, the apartment building next to Jo’s got struck by lightening and burned down. She also manages the apartments and so she was obviously preoccupied for a couple days. Then, Tuesday night, her car broke down in my driveway as we were about to drive to the park.

This girl will stop at nothing to get out of exercise.

It broke down in an “inappropriate parking spot” so I had to leave legitimate warnings for the neighbors.

We actually DID end up walking that night. But it doesn’t matter, cus the next day Jo needed to have a late night talk and I happened to have a 2-for-1 Steak N Shake shake coupon. It’s kind of our thing. We can’t have serious any kind of talks without them. Try the Key Lime if it’s the last thing you do. It’s got graham cracker crumblies on top!

Sigh.

Wondering where I went? I have returned to blogging over at my whole foods blog Celery and the City, where we live so clean it’s like your insides took a bath.

Life Lately In Pictures: Brought To You By My Camera Phone

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It started out like any other Wednesday night in my living room. Except my hip had just popped out of joint, and I was sitting across from my friend Jo, who was wearing an eye patch.

I’ll address your concerns later. But basically, she chemically burned her eye and my hip always pops out of joint, rendering me helpless for about an hour or so. The doctor said working out would help to prevent the problem. Translation: I’ll have this problem for life.

As we were talking about the travesties and paranoias of our lives, while simultaneously trying to diagnose our relational hang-ups, she went to the bathroom. So, I got up and started hopping down the hallway to my bedroom. As I bypassed Jo in the bathroom, the door was open and she was applying a face mask. Around the eye patch.

I’m not sure what it was about that extremely pathetic moment, but I started laughing so hard that my one good leg gave out on me. Then, Jo, like any wounded heroine, came over to assist me in walking down the hallway. Only problem was that my bum hip was on the right side and her bum eye was on the left.

One of our friends said, “Together you guys make the perfect pirate.”

I’m not sure if we make the perfect anything. Then, we sat on the couch, drank boxed wine out of plastic cups, while we commented on each others FaceSpace statuses about the events of the evening.

In other news, life has been busy. And, I’d like to attempt to explain it, but who has the energy? So, I’m going to give you a brief overview in pictures, compliments of my camera phone.

My dad gave my grandma Mother’s day flowers, except she didn’t have a vase. So he made one out of a lemon-lime pop container.

My best friends moved away to California, again. Except this time, they took their newborn with them! How dare they! I miss trying to eat his head.

This is how I looked for the entire week after the move. It could also be because there are two country finalists on American Idol.

Then, I ate nothing but carbs for a day or so. And my scale gave me a subliminal message.

I babysat this girl, and her little sister. I’ve had my fill of Tinkerbell, play-doh and pink stuff for the rest of my life.

I ran out of spoons. It didn’t slow me down.

I got my first Starbucks cake pop, and at first I was grossed out cus it looked like an eyeball. Then, I was just grossed out cus it was gross.

A lot of these pictures have to do with food. … I’m not sure what that means.

I’m gonna eat the rest of this sandwich and get back to ya.

Wondering where I went? I have returned to blogging over at my whole foods blog Celery and the City, where we live so clean it’s like your insides took a bath.

Blunt Bites: An Old Italian Guy Named Joe

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[ DISCLAIMER: Blunt Bites break away from my normal, detailed laugh-out-loud (right?) posts. They are like snapshots of a significant part of my life. Sometimes, they’re serious. Sometimes, they’re funny. But they’re always gonna be delicious. Yum. ]

I met Joe while working at a retirement home and almost instantly, we connected. During my first week of work, he pointed out my dark hair and ever since then we’ve fought over whose Italian grandma made a better spaghetti sauce. Now, every time I see him he gives me a hug and says he loves me.

At night, sometimes he sits down and shows me the scrapbook his daughter made for his 90th birthday. It’s filled with pictures of the Navy, his three daughters and his late wife along with letters from all the friends, family and neighbors that he has meant so much to over the years. After reading those letters, you can tell just what kind of a life Joe lived.

After he turned 90, Joe told me that he finally realized he wasn’t going to live forever.  He said he wanted to start “doing things,” and he didn’t understand why none of these old guys “ever want to spend their money.” I told him that I didn’t understand it either, since money doesn’t mean anything anyway. We went through the activity book and I signed him up for every single thing.

I asked Joe if he had any advice, based on his experiences. He said, “Find a pretty girl like yourself and realize how lucky you are.” I laughed and responded, “Joe. That doesn’t really help me out very much,” and he said, “Oh, I think it helps you out more than you realize.”

Then he followed it up with, “Yea, I’m a flirt. So what? Keeps me young.”

When I asked if I could take his picture so that I could always remember him, Joe said he was honored that I thought he was worth remembering.

More photos: Indigo Photography

A Photo Shoot And A Scientific Breakthrough

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Alright, Science. Get your gloves on, cause we’re about to box. I know you think you can jack with our diets every other day by releasing new information regarding the detriments of coffee, and eggs and high fructose corn syrup, and yet you conveniently forget to report other pertinent information regarding the mental instability of babies. What gives you the right? Perhaps you are just fearful that revealing the truth might cause the human race to fizzle out like a Matt Leblanc spin-off. Well, maybe you’re right, but the people deserve to know.

HYPOTHESIS: All babies are born with bipolar disorder. Future parents, don’t be alarmed: there is nothing you can do to prevent this. This fact is nondiscriminatory – it transcends gender, socioeconomic status and ethnicity. I’m not revealing this to freak you out or to scare you off procreation – it is just a simple fact of life.

This is not a photography tutorial, but I will still offer you a tip: if you happen to find yourself photographing or in the company of a newborn, you will need to keep this in mind. Please remember that when a “disorder” is involved, you must be patient. The child cannot help the fact that they are completely inconsolable one moment and perfectly content the next, with no earthly explanation for these vast extremities.

Oh, and science, just when you thought I was stupid enough to make lofty claims without the data to back it up, I have proof!

DATA:

“Hey guys, it’s me! Just being sweet and checking out the world.”

“I hate this world!! And everything in it! Including YOU!”

“I think I’m gonna lay here, nice and quiet.. like a rotisserie chicken.”

Zzzzzzz…..sweet dreams of BBQ flavored baby food…

“Hey guys, look at me! I’m like a little dinosaur!”

“Ahhhh! The turmoils of life!!! They are just too wretched to bear!”

Zzzz… walking through a meadow filled with flowers shaped like pacifiers…

“I am so pleased with the way my life is shaping up. So many things to write down in my Oprah’s Best Life gratitude journal.”

BAM! ROASTED, Science. Next time you’ll think twice before questioning me.

**Disclaimer: This is the child of two of my very closest friends. He is wonderful and perfect, no matter how much he cries. And his auntie Blunt will always give him honest advice about the ladies.

More photos: Indigo Photography

This Blog Is The Next Heidi Montag

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This blog is so vain. She probably thinks this post is about her.

Well, in this instance she is right.

You know what they say about plastic surgery: it’s addicting. And if anyone would know, it’s this blog, which has had three different looks in the past year. I told her she had better stop before she becomes the Heidi Montag of blogs, but it’s like talking to a brick wall.

So Blunt Delivery went through a little face lift with the help of my girlies over at caffeinateddesigns. I love them so much that I used an Asian Barbie for my twitter feed in honor of Cheryl. Cheryl is the Asian one. Jen is totally white. So technically, all of the other pictures are an homage to her. We’re still working out a few kinks on the site, so just settle down.

Okay guys, after much thought and consideration, I’ve decided to end this blog.

But then I thought about that one person who reads it every week and laughs at the tragedy that is my life, and I thought – I can’t do that to them – whoever they are. If they exist, and I’m 45% positive they do. So instead, I have decided to expand this blog’s horizons a bit.

I am a person who can’t sit still. But wait, don’t you spend like 12 hours a day sitting still in front of a computer, writing and editing and doing all sorts of things that the majority of the world despises?

Wow, you have quite the memory. Ever considered working for the CIA? I could get the details from Matt Damon. I guess when I say I can’t sit still I’m referring more to my mind. I always have five different projects going on. I am not satisfied unless I am learning something new. I’m one of those people who will see something they like, resolve it’s too expensive and then go home and learn how to make it. Follow me?

Historically, Blunt Delivery has just been a blog about my ridiculous life; but I am going to start incorporating other aspects of myself into this blog – because you know that I can barely keep up one blog much less a separate one for each of my distinctly different personalities!

The main reason I won’t quit this blog – besides all of the fabulous people I meet through it – is that it is the one place I can entirely be myself. And I need a place for all of the random stuff circling my head, or I might spontaneously combust.

I get a lot of emails/questions through my photo blog and I would like to start answering them here. I would like to simplify the technical stuff so that people can find the joy in this hobby, rather than the frustration. So, you will be seeing some different things here such as photography posts, tutorials, and random DIY decorating things . After the torture of learning how to use my first DSLR and Photoshop, I really fell in love with photography. Since I don’t do it for an income, it has become a great outlet for me and has allowed the ability to provide creative memories for my friends and family.

BUT I will never stop posting about my ridiculous life. How could I considering it is the Sears Tower of Ridiculousness?

I know many of you will have no interest in these things (as my readers are a 50/50 gender mix) and that is just fine! I will title them with strong warnings such as: PHOTO SHOOT: DON’T LOOK AT IF YOU HATE BABIES. That way you can easily skip over them! Always looking out for ya.

Oh, sorry, except for when I just slip baby pictures in there like that!

The jury is still out on whether or not this was borderline child abuse. Would this post be more interesting if I told you this is Kenny’s baby? Cus it is.

Here’s to hoping I’m not headed for the slammer,

Blunt

Valentine’s Day And Other Unfortunate Realities

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Lately, I’ve noticed a lot of visitors, dodging the landmines and trekking over mountainous terrains to stop over at my humble, but well decorated corner of the Internets and rest their weary souls. So before I blindside you with what I have to say, which by all accounts will probably alter the course of your life and so we better hurry up, I would like to give all the newbies a big, Blunt welcome with open arms.

But I hope that didn’t just make you think of the popular eighties love ballad by Journey.

Because I sort of dislike that band.  But not as much as I dislike hate Chicago.

But I do like that song ‘Don’t Stop Believing.’

But not just cus it’s on the popular Fox musical Glee.

Cus I don’t like Glee. But I do like that Jane Lynch.

And I like you. So why don’t you just stop worrying about what I do and don’t like, mmmk?

Actually, I can’t say I don’t like Glee. I’m just assuming I don’t. Never mind the fact that I just listened to the YouTube Glee Mix about a hundred times.

Speaking of Valentine’s Day, did you honestly think  just because I’m in a relationship that I would start liking this dreadful day?? I’ll bet you one aluminum wrapped red rose that you did. Ugh. Well, I was part of a video series that the College Crush and College Candy did called: Kick Ass Valentine’s Day… no date needed. You could imagine my enthusiasm at the chance to make fun of a holiday that is supposed to celebrate love, but really just exists in commemoration of the execution of Patron Saint Valentine.

I have included the original version, without the intro they added, in case you hate Valentine’s Day too (which I expect you do) and wanted to watch it. [DISCLAIMER: Guys, this video might make fun of you a lot. This is not an apology, just a disclaimer]

So, I want to know…. how will you be celebrating the horrendous holiday that is creeping in on us like that weird kid in 8th grade biology?

Cus I won’t ever stop believin,’

Blunt


America, This Is How Much I Love Your Beautiful Face

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I don’t get it. So you’re saying that when I said I was going to start posting on a Monday/Wednesday/Friday rotation, you thought that meant I was posting a blog every Monday, Wednesday and Friday?

Clearly, we have communication issues.

And in the interest of breaking free from my passive-aggressive behavior, I will simply tell you that is precisely why we will never work out.

Luckily, now that I’ve had the holiday weekend to cool down and get myself back to neutral, I’m ready to talk to you again.

As you may or may not know, it was the 4th of July on Sunday. As you also may or may not know, it is my second favorite holiday despite the fact that it always lets me down either in quality of company or the always-anticipated- but-never-welcomed raping of my eardrums by the Neil Diamond sky concert. Either way, I still dig it.

Crackly sunburnt foreheads. Watermelon. People blowing up illegal stuff. Shirtless men holding a Bud Light while grilling an assortment of mystery proteins on their front porches. Apple pie. Coolers everywhere. A general sense of gratefulness bestowed upon our military. It’s as if the country gets one giant free pass to be a hillbilly.

That being said, my 4th of July celebration was pretty typical:

1. I ate Mexican food.

mexican-fourth-of-july

2. I wandered around a cemetary in search of the archaeologist that discovered King Tut’s tomb.

graveyard-rockford-il

3. I busted into an abandoned house while on an aimless photo-taking drive.

abandoned-house-rockford-il

Thinking back on it now, I might have thought it was Halloween.

You can check out the Creepy Abandoned House Part 1 pics here. Part two coming soon!

Hope your holiday was simply fabulous.

How To Avoid Awkward Encounters On Your Birthday

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Question: Why wear the world’s most unflattering, horizontal-striped dress on your birthday?

Answer: So that you have something even more upsetting than your birthday to focus on.

Another viable reason could be because it slightly entirely resembles The Hamburglar. Cus isn’t that what birthdays kind of are? One giant Hamburglar, sneaking up on you to steal another year?

This year has been interesting. My career has taken a direction that I couldn’t be more pleased with. I’ve taught myself how to take photos with a fancy camera, which I’ll never fully know how to use. I started eating Flintstones chewables, and I’ve never felt better. Friends have moved away. Friends have come home. I’ve been severely depressed, and unbelievably happy. Relationships have come and gone. I’ve met some amazing new people. Cut out some not so amazing people. Started eating tomatoes. Almost died behind the wheel of my car about 75 times. I changed my phone number.  I repainted my living room.

Yea. That sounds about right.

But the most important thing I’ve learned is: How To Avoid Awkward Encounters On Your Birthday.

1. Stay inside your house for three consecutive days.

2. Refuse to shower during that time.

3. On the off chance that you are tempted to leave your house, remember that you haven’t showered.

4. Make a pan of brownies.

5. Eat the entire pan of brownies, and pass out.

6. Set a goal to watch the entire Sex and the City series.

7. Resolve that there is no better time than now to start achieving your goals.

8. Don’t run out of food.

9. When you run out of food, use your Mary Kate Olson sunglasses to disguise your grossness and get carry out pasta.

10. Question why you own Mary Kate Olson sunglasses.

11. Remember that some of life’s mysteries are just too complex to unvail.

12. Cry.

13. Realize even your Mary Kate Olson sunglasses couldn’t disguise your puffy eyes.

14. Finish the box of wine.

15. Realize that expiration dates are there for a reason, and they best not be challenged, especially when it comes to boxed wine.

I’m happy to report that (1) I don’t look a day over 45, and (2) I did survive my birthday weekend.

jo-brit

I went out one itty bitty time, but the rest of my weekend was spent in hiding with my friend Jo, and can be described exactly as on the numbered list above. It. was. fabulous.

jo-dana