tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-381884692024-03-13T17:22:03.157-04:00Fryzem Photographymonicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-36101460304395069432009-02-03T14:22:00.001-05:002009-02-03T14:24:45.823-05:00another world<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTkrKgVj5LN0lZC_fPsn4r2SKKo3OWyqzTC0fvDYzdSMgq61u7lo6nPki7wI5-FtEtWnrgxz8PFuakQCyNJ82-gcbzaw00dlkFR8KW4kENMWbrkJOZz2fmVoV8gKYEwB8A5IpACA/s1600-h/upclose.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063350907154327890" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTkrKgVj5LN0lZC_fPsn4r2SKKo3OWyqzTC0fvDYzdSMgq61u7lo6nPki7wI5-FtEtWnrgxz8PFuakQCyNJ82-gcbzaw00dlkFR8KW4kENMWbrkJOZz2fmVoV8gKYEwB8A5IpACA/s320/upclose.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This is one from the archives. A photo that is easily two years old, taken at the Arboretum. I'm starting to get back into the swing of things, and will be posting more often. But the above is just more evidence as to what kind of photos you can take if you stop looking through the viewfinder and do something different. I set my camera practically on the ground and snapped these growths. They're like alien pods. Or sprouts, signaling new life. You say potato...monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-16759024808576434592008-11-11T15:05:00.000-05:002008-11-13T00:33:20.927-05:00Remembrance<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjSkH6TY4L8XTRuynkyfbEq7TpJ9S-CbnRK-OM6f7Ts682aWuL8rcuFMZHufPt7UAEv8_ujOodH6o1e6gYN9z6FSpd76c0rSPqnVMM9G4TXs9Q7YCSNpv7aTOoNuhorKpPABRpg/s1600-h/rows+and+rows.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAjSkH6TY4L8XTRuynkyfbEq7TpJ9S-CbnRK-OM6f7Ts682aWuL8rcuFMZHufPt7UAEv8_ujOodH6o1e6gYN9z6FSpd76c0rSPqnVMM9G4TXs9Q7YCSNpv7aTOoNuhorKpPABRpg/s320/rows+and+rows.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192859335211535954" border="0" /></a>On this Veteran's Day - I'm thinking about all the Veterans I know. Some are friends, some are family, some are here and some are not. One thing they all have in common is that they've represented our country (and other countries) in times of war, when others couldn't (or wouldn't) do so.<br /><br />A few months ago I took a trip to the Long Island National Cemetery where both of my grandfathers are buried, and took some photos.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1UE56VcFA3f2z0UB3mYqhBh4BHXSorQecNFCkwj6f593lKtaRNFGgN7uaGbsOcmaUw6xUvY7I6QIKBuc2TVJTVzNn21XG6Ugih-wos-CfAbCQMZNlp6NzoXyrX0Gwa6DbUAz8Tw/s1600-h/Poppy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1UE56VcFA3f2z0UB3mYqhBh4BHXSorQecNFCkwj6f593lKtaRNFGgN7uaGbsOcmaUw6xUvY7I6QIKBuc2TVJTVzNn21XG6Ugih-wos-CfAbCQMZNlp6NzoXyrX0Gwa6DbUAz8Tw/s320/Poppy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192859292261862978" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAgVmtYnbmvo-Yyu_xX8hSqUNcvJ9N8rHbDUz4EAtxeRY3G-M6Bo-K4WAvBPvs1cSn1mcNFHpErPkIFURPccTLAxXgq-zgPth_GA721TmJ8shHRzzmcPLeeQunL818zMUxE_cYAA/s1600-h/big+mike.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAgVmtYnbmvo-Yyu_xX8hSqUNcvJ9N8rHbDUz4EAtxeRY3G-M6Bo-K4WAvBPvs1cSn1mcNFHpErPkIFURPccTLAxXgq-zgPth_GA721TmJ8shHRzzmcPLeeQunL818zMUxE_cYAA/s320/big+mike.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192859257902124578" border="0" /></a>monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-35231907377079561732008-10-14T12:30:00.003-04:002008-10-14T12:35:45.854-04:00Falling into fall<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpAMmwo1AGTx6hLt_wD6e1tvHLOcPqPqvlbc2szC3cJgzv80JGFGucEApwvvbSSJ4-rq1JfM8SgvzL9D0YEzcFZlgal7CTRyEJn-jobrb4tL3AeP4kGXD-s7QL7U2okZcThpG9PA/s1600-h/fall+leaves.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpAMmwo1AGTx6hLt_wD6e1tvHLOcPqPqvlbc2szC3cJgzv80JGFGucEApwvvbSSJ4-rq1JfM8SgvzL9D0YEzcFZlgal7CTRyEJn-jobrb4tL3AeP4kGXD-s7QL7U2okZcThpG9PA/s320/fall+leaves.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257049039083932610" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />I realize that my last post was in June or July or some ungodly amount of months ago. But I literally couldn't help it. There were lots of weddings this summer, and lots of work at my office and lots of business about. But I'm happy now to be settling into Fall. Fall is my favorite of all seasons, and not just because my birthday happens to occur during it. I love the crisp smelling air, the ability to wear sweatshirts, and the overall feeling. The freshness of starting a new school year (even though I haven't done that in a few years now) and the idea of getting ready for the long winter ahead.<br /><br />So, today's return shot was taken while I was out doing one of my favorite fall activities, Pumpkin Picking! As it turns out, my good friend Maria (one of the many married folks from the summer) had never been pumpkin picking before! It was amazing to watch her take in the whole experience - from picking a wagon, to holding her first pumpkin, to feeding some of the animals at the petting zoo. It was a great day. And we topped it all off with baking a pie, watching a movie and just enjoying each other's company.<br /><br />While walking through the farm on the way to the pumpkin patch, I caught some of the leaves changing on the trees. Not too many have fallen yet, but I know soon my car will be blanketed with the yellow and orange leaves soon enough.monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-65124427672236452182008-07-18T11:21:00.002-04:002008-11-13T00:33:22.125-05:00I'm not LAZYI'm not lazy.<br /><br />I know that my last posting date leads you to believe quite the contrary. But really, I'm not. It's just that everyone I know is getting married. And so, I have been participating in the various parties that go along with such traditions.<br /><br />See, I've been quite busy...<br /><br />FIRST I went to Lisa's Bridal Shower where we were all gentile and ladylike:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDp_g-xlEZAk1QBmSAYolgFuCBjkSXg0bme37z0vga8mWBPM3M-Rd37tDp7I8icSf61hL1Q36iFRsmmfcGNpS2HuHYy7pAaZyJptO8Jw09nkkdVJSSyGHgMyj9BAUYBih8rr5n6Q/s1600-h/lisa_bridal_shower.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDp_g-xlEZAk1QBmSAYolgFuCBjkSXg0bme37z0vga8mWBPM3M-Rd37tDp7I8icSf61hL1Q36iFRsmmfcGNpS2HuHYy7pAaZyJptO8Jw09nkkdVJSSyGHgMyj9BAUYBih8rr5n6Q/s320/lisa_bridal_shower.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224374695127970434" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Then I went to Lisa's Bachelorette Party, where we lost all that grace and drank a lot:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCFqB0ok53SjtafKGZD5CmORmPUqo0K6IH7j2ENQf0paGenyomOeOb4hFYTv23fwbJ_bRVk1AL6ZQTslksT9C9GkxxKSyvxh66eiGJNxXXuD5r6sKueC26Uv7k7UMAas_lZ3N7Aw/s1600-h/lisa_bach_party.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCFqB0ok53SjtafKGZD5CmORmPUqo0K6IH7j2ENQf0paGenyomOeOb4hFYTv23fwbJ_bRVk1AL6ZQTslksT9C9GkxxKSyvxh66eiGJNxXXuD5r6sKueC26Uv7k7UMAas_lZ3N7Aw/s320/lisa_bach_party.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224374688931857794" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Then I went to Maria's Bridal Shower, where she opened my gift of "An Italian Night"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrheWF1cKSxGz7WlRz-7uXWY9uxgFgroXFM4OTF0vzC_fdguYLjMS1HRIpaSvGs9a1z0DEJpkLfMEJkZjDC0rpz9ajOc4H5AmJWou_rqDI-TJkumACEG-epcZ56Xph6HXLffb6JQ/s1600-h/maria_bridal.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrheWF1cKSxGz7WlRz-7uXWY9uxgFgroXFM4OTF0vzC_fdguYLjMS1HRIpaSvGs9a1z0DEJpkLfMEJkZjDC0rpz9ajOc4H5AmJWou_rqDI-TJkumACEG-epcZ56Xph6HXLffb6JQ/s320/maria_bridal.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224374699515968594" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Then I went to Maria's Bachelorette Party, where we hung out in Atlantic City, ate at Bobby Flay's restaurant, donned "GRILLZ" like rap stars and were generally debaucherous:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiykIQD9O9mBxEoD9L0sz0UUvp9fa44c1fA1O-o7-PSlLZdGe9gpdx4rnWBGB1-1pnQD8w1NhaA0H25p8MpF-nWmIXZslnbsIELybjiqD9Q3ISbMG0dGnWQZJRLP0KNA-epgMXmMA/s1600-h/maria_bach.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiykIQD9O9mBxEoD9L0sz0UUvp9fa44c1fA1O-o7-PSlLZdGe9gpdx4rnWBGB1-1pnQD8w1NhaA0H25p8MpF-nWmIXZslnbsIELybjiqD9Q3ISbMG0dGnWQZJRLP0KNA-epgMXmMA/s320/maria_bach.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224374700295375474" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Then I went to Maria's Wedding, where she and John looked amazing and danced the night (day) away: <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5Vo2iS13tOzgHWThBanQa5oXvQUHTLdkIDS9bJ9GHFR6pa4U8CpLBIlNtFYNzZFnZOp-SytqfHWFJ419pPb3li31g5rMhx0xVpdTPNEwLwiL650KfZO12gtOBhwV4kDPpi9v4A/s1600-h/maria_john_wed.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5Vo2iS13tOzgHWThBanQa5oXvQUHTLdkIDS9bJ9GHFR6pa4U8CpLBIlNtFYNzZFnZOp-SytqfHWFJ419pPb3li31g5rMhx0xVpdTPNEwLwiL650KfZO12gtOBhwV4kDPpi9v4A/s320/maria_john_wed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224374704539680114" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Then I went to Lisa's wedding, where she looked like a princess but retained her ability to make funny faces in photos:<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi6NIOTYnXQ519HSSXZIa-21FQq22ypY3fx5M6xqnl_uuLqN0XuaRTN5z7c_OYj0_qGfqJ824VAYbXZpnoFiXfNuShkT23G62Zo31hOg2RdiZoouU9jH7Xzfu2nGjNwhbqs0KBjQ/s1600-h/lisa_wed.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi6NIOTYnXQ519HSSXZIa-21FQq22ypY3fx5M6xqnl_uuLqN0XuaRTN5z7c_OYj0_qGfqJ824VAYbXZpnoFiXfNuShkT23G62Zo31hOg2RdiZoouU9jH7Xzfu2nGjNwhbqs0KBjQ/s320/lisa_wed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224375039568478818" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Then I went to Tracy's Wedding, where she looked AMAZING and had a nice time with my coworkers:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL8bHWtTh7MZdAHANPHvcShTbVV1O61GP2jn9xdd7LUxCNPibyisoxj1jC_o1OKa4smstIP7DMNztHSZCi3Ltp_ceGzMKMJkM5OjH8Qkg8RQU1ZqbJ37s_gDH61pDJ9zF8z-Fk9Q/s1600-h/tracy_wed.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL8bHWtTh7MZdAHANPHvcShTbVV1O61GP2jn9xdd7LUxCNPibyisoxj1jC_o1OKa4smstIP7DMNztHSZCi3Ltp_ceGzMKMJkM5OjH8Qkg8RQU1ZqbJ37s_gDH61pDJ9zF8z-Fk9Q/s320/tracy_wed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224375044583214514" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Then I attended Carolanne's Bachelorette Party, where I drank a Martini Tree (not the whole thing):<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvL5-T28UC5SJCQY9mk8NdWgcKR77eha9T2vpHqvXL4zXn9XCfZXesV7gE90I6xegwcK1g_IhoONnLJGW586SNsd4jfWWBkWv4uoLlud04vW9aGUUctTlwlm811NxzwBfguKdCig/s1600-h/martini+tree.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvL5-T28UC5SJCQY9mk8NdWgcKR77eha9T2vpHqvXL4zXn9XCfZXesV7gE90I6xegwcK1g_IhoONnLJGW586SNsd4jfWWBkWv4uoLlud04vW9aGUUctTlwlm811NxzwBfguKdCig/s320/martini+tree.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224375050408918066" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />In between all that I managed to go on Vacation as well. Bear with me folks, more "real" photos are coming!monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-55769172692053228732008-05-13T18:13:00.004-04:002008-11-13T00:33:22.260-05:00The Marriage Tango<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNwqVlRPUD3R1E4JPJjA5L8QYtowU2_Sy3YrPte7tUuKGbOXqXzNyNciYjbjqhjN3Jf0kYz5TkhWshUBkym_1htYQJts4q-TinrbMz4lSUvLR6OU_0SYEdT6FLiwwu2nOIrr2g6w/s1600-h/tango_bw.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNwqVlRPUD3R1E4JPJjA5L8QYtowU2_Sy3YrPte7tUuKGbOXqXzNyNciYjbjqhjN3Jf0kYz5TkhWshUBkym_1htYQJts4q-TinrbMz4lSUvLR6OU_0SYEdT6FLiwwu2nOIrr2g6w/s320/tango_bw.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199989134622345586" /></a><br />Every once and a while, a friend of mine will ask me to take some photos for them. I'm happy to oblige, as long as our schedules work out and they buy me food or a beer (or two or three). It's fun to be a part of people's lives. And I like trying new things. A few weeks ago I took some pictures for my good friend Carolanne and her fiance Michael. They're getting married this summer and they wanted a photo to go with their invitation. <br /><br />I've done headshots and taken production photos and photos of kids and families, but I've never taken Engagement/Wedding pictures. I'm way too intimidated to take on a whole wedding myself, but I think I might actually be <span style="font-weight:bold;">good </span>at it.<br /><br />I scoured <a href="http://www.flickr.com">Flickr </a>for some inspiration, and to see what kind of new things photographers are doing for engagement photos. After many many viewings of photos just like this one, I decided I wanted to try it out. We had a great day for shooting (overcast) which helps cast even light. I would have preferred sun (even just for the heat factor), but it appeared every once and a while. I had to do a tad bit of retouching too to get the final look.<br /><br />Carolanne and Michael were really great sports about trying any and everything I wanted to do. They provided a lot of their own input too, and they finally chose the photo they'll use (I guess you'll have to be invited to the wedding to see which one!). <br /><br />It was a pleasure taking their photos. I only hope their wedding photographer is as nice as I am...monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-82417637431094920862008-04-07T15:41:00.004-04:002008-11-13T00:33:22.404-05:00SCHMAP!!A while ago, I brought you some pictures from my trip to Italy. Just a few weeks ago, I was contacted by a representative from Schmap.com, and asked if they could use one of my photos and credit me on the site. Woohoo! I'm famous! But not really. I just think it's cool that a group or individual can find me and ask me directly if I want to be involved in their project.<br /><br />A bit more on Schmap - <br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Schmap is a leading publisher of digital travel guides for 200 destinations throughout the United States, Europe, Canada, Australia and New Zealand. The innovative technology behind Schmap Guides also lets end users publish their own ‘schmaps’ (to share trip itineraries, local reviews and more), and powers a popular range of Schmap Widgets, displaying maps with content and event schedules for travel, sports, concert tours and more on a fast-growing network of websites and blogs. Founded in 2004, Schmap is privately owned and based in Carrboro, North Carolina.</span><br /><br />You can see the page via this link: http://www.schmap.com/italy/churches/p=50667/i=50667_6.jpg<br /><br />And below is the photo that they used:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVYkP3xAJlnm-sYEFIvrirt8fEZmUk3dSj7Yj977ltPsNodZLL8CYClmFdsGVlLwwdIPdpPflXwzXuOtxcKTLT7tya9yt9Kx3iuFDwtE4mh1y7gNUdoIIeBS735KPYDXuDaj4Sg/s1600-h/san_lorenzo_markets.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVYkP3xAJlnm-sYEFIvrirt8fEZmUk3dSj7Yj977ltPsNodZLL8CYClmFdsGVlLwwdIPdpPflXwzXuOtxcKTLT7tya9yt9Kx3iuFDwtE4mh1y7gNUdoIIeBS735KPYDXuDaj4Sg/s320/san_lorenzo_markets.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186591035071859138" border="0" /></a>monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-20258699060709809932008-03-25T14:37:00.004-04:002008-11-13T00:33:24.032-05:00Camera-Phoning it inI love phones. I think about getting a new phone all the time. Whatever is hot and new, I want it. But alas, Verizon only does "new every 2" not "new every time Monica feels like getting a new phone."<br /><br />But I love phones, and I use my camera phone quite often. Usually to take a picture of my friends so that when they call I don't see a bland number, but rather their smiling face. But I also use it to capture inside jokes in action. For example, Bolo Ties are hilarious to me, especially when worn in places other than Texas - hence the one photo I have of a man with a bolo tie, eating in a diner on Long Island. I also have pictures of random people on bicycles wearing yellow spandex (because I yell LANCE! whenever I see them), common "FAIL-isms" (ie a door that leads nowhere). But mostly, I take pictures of things I want to have as my phone's wallpaper.<br /><br />And, with a pretty decent camera phone (2.0 megapixels!) I can get some good shots. The larger versions are kind of pixelated, but they look great on a phone. If you have my number, feel free to text me and I'll send you one of them for your own phone.<br /><br />Below are some of my favorites:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jamaica Station</span> - I had to "change at Jamaica" a few weeks ago, when I left work early. Standing on the platform, I loved the light through the clouds.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJhJ8R297OPPUdVumM3ySj7x5ll0PwndljQ5Q7kG9JcOYJw8hHCHxotpcEbo9KFMftSrV0Gwl7GR5zbtRIQ0o_Xjm_eIQ30HBGQOaLxOYYwuHkewvPx5aCCrprbtPvvCbT3i6eQ/s1600-h/jamaica+station.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRJhJ8R297OPPUdVumM3ySj7x5ll0PwndljQ5Q7kG9JcOYJw8hHCHxotpcEbo9KFMftSrV0Gwl7GR5zbtRIQ0o_Xjm_eIQ30HBGQOaLxOYYwuHkewvPx5aCCrprbtPvvCbT3i6eQ/s320/jamaica+station.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181750847447435666" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Orient Point</span> - While spending the weekend with friends we took a walk to a small boat loading dock and I snapped this picture in the morning light.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLI5F_Akat5m_Csl0A7ksNwM3ZxA6GEi1a3gqoVV5vHG4MM3DS-2w_qBM0IN2P3j9f1RXQmjwijxZF3gGNgSX7vplUrw33oSgjrdZLpggoQ12vNVkAPhPzRGM_fGw_siv9InRpEw/s1600-h/orient+point.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLI5F_Akat5m_Csl0A7ksNwM3ZxA6GEi1a3gqoVV5vHG4MM3DS-2w_qBM0IN2P3j9f1RXQmjwijxZF3gGNgSX7vplUrw33oSgjrdZLpggoQ12vNVkAPhPzRGM_fGw_siv9InRpEw/s320/orient+point.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181750847447435682" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Turtles</span> - Our office currently houses two turtles. Want one? They're dangerously close in that cage. Please, don't call the ASPCA on us.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtf42komt5SqE1uIh90TkwOJkYsw6-njhYgtAyAe4ZjkaUzoZjvWz-cnoe69q3oaT-AgeVs6EH2B5cb_ZEyFv1KmzTLZXgJ5K29pxbEF-5vVKpXqk7bVzStxns4yn7i8b5mn37dg/s1600-h/turtles.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtf42komt5SqE1uIh90TkwOJkYsw6-njhYgtAyAe4ZjkaUzoZjvWz-cnoe69q3oaT-AgeVs6EH2B5cb_ZEyFv1KmzTLZXgJ5K29pxbEF-5vVKpXqk7bVzStxns4yn7i8b5mn37dg/s320/turtles.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181750851742402994" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Brooklyn Bridge</span> - As seen from South Street Seaport. A few friends and I went to see a free concert down there last summer. And while enjoying some pre-show cocktails, I shot this.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeujqjvCVg6W2jU6OYq2cv52BqsC6epqZp4RFGu0qaR14Ahyphenhyphenrqn1roglonDmnz2YkzCHCU4YLQ8tniwOm5yuAzfiqGG0CrPREUGmw6eVun8Lw3GCa2FNwDSLIffa9ZWfs9cTjZUA/s1600-h/brooklyn+bridge.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeujqjvCVg6W2jU6OYq2cv52BqsC6epqZp4RFGu0qaR14Ahyphenhyphenrqn1roglonDmnz2YkzCHCU4YLQ8tniwOm5yuAzfiqGG0CrPREUGmw6eVun8Lw3GCa2FNwDSLIffa9ZWfs9cTjZUA/s320/brooklyn+bridge.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181750615519201602" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cake Pops</span> - I love to chronicle my baking exploits. I have more camera phone pictures of various cupcakes than anything else I think. These were particularly ambitious of me. Recipe is found<span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><a style="font-weight: bold;" href="http://bakerella.blogspot.com/2008/01/dont-lick-bite.html">here</a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibIK5ikWaNzIFDwpRZ1nP28EchriVtCidbMi9Uhiw5JQrGMdGkblu3AFvuiLtrEgjUYLDRc2dVIo7xlItzpzUo8pHxRqYRfxhQ-82Xsk4Hl59ShbcNxbmZltlXZq-3Xu5H8IWNHw/s1600-h/cake+pops.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibIK5ikWaNzIFDwpRZ1nP28EchriVtCidbMi9Uhiw5JQrGMdGkblu3AFvuiLtrEgjUYLDRc2dVIo7xlItzpzUo8pHxRqYRfxhQ-82Xsk4Hl59ShbcNxbmZltlXZq-3Xu5H8IWNHw/s320/cake+pops.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181750619814168914" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Cube Toys</span> - Anyone who has visited my office will notice that it's decorated. A LOT. My friend Kelli sent me these toys, which are found inside KinderEggs. I have about 18 now.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ek-V4qEBX6eqK_iRfX6mDWnTf8Hesefca-V28WeCwED4KRFObamcRFtg5ei6sqMCD3MOk0RfqgNazr5x8XMTdLZoeU5CjXayPFwIbS9RfIJeoOmrv8BiRmiMX2kV0yABfhPL0A/s1600-h/cubical+toys.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ek-V4qEBX6eqK_iRfX6mDWnTf8Hesefca-V28WeCwED4KRFObamcRFtg5ei6sqMCD3MOk0RfqgNazr5x8XMTdLZoeU5CjXayPFwIbS9RfIJeoOmrv8BiRmiMX2kV0yABfhPL0A/s320/cubical+toys.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181750632699070818" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Empire State Building</span> - I've never seen it purple and yellow before.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlFetlbC85NyPPoVEjdBKKqKWFcg8WuyBhrlncUVhVrHjFhOqQtXF5fCjgVtvmLmlUpeyyOTy0Ol5omvIQP_pl-VKF2hF89iozGUz9vnduQxAhi9pm7vdllxqYL__m7kfujvf5uQ/s1600-h/empire+state+building.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlFetlbC85NyPPoVEjdBKKqKWFcg8WuyBhrlncUVhVrHjFhOqQtXF5fCjgVtvmLmlUpeyyOTy0Ol5omvIQP_pl-VKF2hF89iozGUz9vnduQxAhi9pm7vdllxqYL__m7kfujvf5uQ/s320/empire+state+building.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181750632699070834" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Golden Gate Bridge</span> - this shot is actually from my old Razr phone, text messaged to my mom's Razr and then text messaged almost two years later from her phone to my new phone. Technology at work. Taken while on the Blue and Gold Fleet Cruise.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieIlVV8lnoxGIRwgysGGKiPhnrm_4fMDcHkyB_zOz6EwaSempJnkYSqOuENo__HHJ5_gG6sdkoOgwYccdI02wjKHUZjm8h9vRP8HY71HsZDUlIulirNdYdAdQNayCdj8nse4WX5g/s1600-h/golden+gate.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieIlVV8lnoxGIRwgysGGKiPhnrm_4fMDcHkyB_zOz6EwaSempJnkYSqOuENo__HHJ5_gG6sdkoOgwYccdI02wjKHUZjm8h9vRP8HY71HsZDUlIulirNdYdAdQNayCdj8nse4WX5g/s320/golden+gate.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181750636994038146" border="0" /></a>monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-29953055258312616602008-03-13T14:09:00.004-04:002008-11-13T00:33:24.228-05:00through the dunes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVMQVxMT5QZ-5LZKKK1emxON7tgLktu8VdarX5HU2oCHuEs9gWYX2KZ_FW6nZqLnU7CK-_nUMkha6S8bTWiiGVPUnS7lTvq-SXXcS4qZL9sg5h0ix0EEClHzdIPwLETzMuvlwN6A/s1600-h/Robert+Moses.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVMQVxMT5QZ-5LZKKK1emxON7tgLktu8VdarX5HU2oCHuEs9gWYX2KZ_FW6nZqLnU7CK-_nUMkha6S8bTWiiGVPUnS7lTvq-SXXcS4qZL9sg5h0ix0EEClHzdIPwLETzMuvlwN6A/s320/Robert+Moses.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177290557377046706" /></a><br /><br />Another photo from the beach in this week's offering. I finally introduced my new car to the beach, and I chose the greatest day to do it - not.<br /><br />Last Sunday it was unbelievably windy. And that's something I haven't really experienced in my new car. Because cars that are lower to the ground feel the wind less. And cars that are higher above it, feel it more. Logical. And completely terrifying. I think I might need to stop watching Mythbusters, because a while ago they busted the myth that a jet engine could blow over a school bus driving behind it.<br /><br />The footage of the school bus rolling over was pretty awesome. Except now I feel like that will happen to me. It won't, but what's an irrational fear if it's not irrational?<br /><br />Anyway, I drove slowly, savoring how beautiful the water looked and how blue the sky was. But I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that my car was about to become a boat.<br /><br />And for all those who wish to see what the car looks like:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnFG0cDx7v7jMQuRYNvWfHDzMmihJMDEJT0EqG7jblsUuWGno2IyD1JB4f8TO4Ic8-hyf9zXBW2bTI9zpXf_yqPgnZdaTEXxfkRwpbEPbzeQwYQgS_7MnE24RzeWafG8-2RXI5g/s1600-h/beach+jeep.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnFG0cDx7v7jMQuRYNvWfHDzMmihJMDEJT0EqG7jblsUuWGno2IyD1JB4f8TO4Ic8-hyf9zXBW2bTI9zpXf_yqPgnZdaTEXxfkRwpbEPbzeQwYQgS_7MnE24RzeWafG8-2RXI5g/s320/beach+jeep.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177291931766581442" /></a>monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-59820293177549136132008-02-28T15:43:00.000-05:002008-11-13T00:33:24.334-05:00the bridge from below<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_R9eN1CDcORdgej2VKFKS0i0TXzMU7fs35UQewUAlnzgslDvj7UbMd908jG-SPGpbaoNAbnjoEX17bT5oJHfwfawmFaEckq2ODtZpDY1o5qzcRJFuXC6Tfi6UjTUfm_7-Kl3_A/s1600-h/IMG_0024.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062399163876370738" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT_R9eN1CDcORdgej2VKFKS0i0TXzMU7fs35UQewUAlnzgslDvj7UbMd908jG-SPGpbaoNAbnjoEX17bT5oJHfwfawmFaEckq2ODtZpDY1o5qzcRJFuXC6Tfi6UjTUfm_7-Kl3_A/s320/IMG_0024.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Here's a shot of the bridge over to Robert Moses from below. Summer isn't the only time to visit the beach, you know. I guess I feel so connected to the beach and the ocean and all things water related because I grew up on Long Island, though it's hard to pinpoint exactly why.<br /><br />This week I bought a new (used) car, and I'm having some minor repairs done to it. The one thing I said this week in my frustration was that "my car hasn't even met the beach yet." I don't know if that's a quirk I alone have, but there's something about "introducing" a new piece of my life, to other parts that I feel are so important to me, that I love. <br /><br />For example - with a new car, I must drive to the beach. I must also drive past places I once haunted - The North Babylon Annex (site of various musicals), my old house on Herman Avenue, the beach, and a ceremonial drive on DPA (not to race, just to visit), past a few friends houses. Some of our parents have sold our homes, and we all live in different places now, but it's nice to know that this new car and piece of my life has seen the way to the old pieces.monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-12587110820185939322008-02-14T14:45:00.000-05:002008-11-13T00:33:24.565-05:00hate still soars<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9KByJBgBTGN3pPG2YBj5IUFzScHSrf8OErgM6Xw0LHIngvI9MhSzjIS0v11lmnWm7fCTkdA3cpD6klOAq4ohMn7zGPOk5HzeMGyB4d9TAhRdextz5JnFSAwdzsutHyI32cIVIIQ/s1600-h/IMG_0905.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9KByJBgBTGN3pPG2YBj5IUFzScHSrf8OErgM6Xw0LHIngvI9MhSzjIS0v11lmnWm7fCTkdA3cpD6klOAq4ohMn7zGPOk5HzeMGyB4d9TAhRdextz5JnFSAwdzsutHyI32cIVIIQ/s320/IMG_0905.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017508678620993442" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I took this picture over a year ago. And when I see it, sometimes I think to myself, "Should I really have taken this?" or maybe "Is this offensive?"<br /><br />The answer to both those questions is, yes.<br /><br />It is offensive. Time may be able to heal all wounds, but it certainly can't make any idiot who believes in what this symbol means smarter. As far as if I should have taken it...well, the answer there is yes as well. Hate brews stronger when it's kept out of the mainstream. It has to be confronted. It has to be told, "you there, I SEE WHAT YOU'RE DOING AND I DON'T LIKE IT ONE BIT."<br /><br />Since the writer's strike (yay for an end, finally!) I've been watching lots of tv shows I never had time for. And renting lots of movies I haven't seen. The writer's strike gave me Friday Night Lights (please NBC, don't take it away). And it also gave me Band of Brothers. A mini-series released in 2001 on the experiences of E Company ("Easy Company") of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment, U.S. 101st Airborne Division. It chronicles their time in WWII, from training, to D-Day to their final assignments, including the liberation of a concentration camp.<br /><br />I guess it's easy to forget about happenings of the past, especially when so much is happening in our present. But sometimes, we have to be reminded that hate still soars, but that we can soar above it.monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-30550630068350449222008-01-30T17:44:00.000-05:002008-11-13T00:33:24.755-05:00From the Archives<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT0j281BAVc9l7NJz3-KIA0ATKSalLTkqgcaNDGTeCDjmN2E2EOTekBbq-evJFa3IioOl2BZuMq04s1HTeCatT0XZyOlGzhDf6JJu_5MZEzBfAMW10kHxqFVEnLu-MApF_IqbDRg/s1600-h/attic_trunk.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT0j281BAVc9l7NJz3-KIA0ATKSalLTkqgcaNDGTeCDjmN2E2EOTekBbq-evJFa3IioOl2BZuMq04s1HTeCatT0XZyOlGzhDf6JJu_5MZEzBfAMW10kHxqFVEnLu-MApF_IqbDRg/s320/attic_trunk.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161403284784256450" /></a><br /><br />I recently moved and had the pleasure of going through all of my artwork in order to either consolidate better, keep certain things, and throw away others. <br /><br />The moving allowed me to go through my Senior Thesis project. I then remembered that I took some serious Low-Resolution digital photos in case anyone ever wanted to check them out. I moved all the real prints to a nice portfolio too.<br /><br />So here's one from the vault - a corner of the attic from my Aunt Flo and Uncle Morris' house. The house has since been sold, and Uncle Morris is no longer with us. But I'm glad to have these photos, and to have had the experience of spending time in the house alone to properly grieve, look through some family photo albums and document a large chunk of my childhood.monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-26891645115426680112008-01-06T21:12:00.001-05:002008-11-13T00:33:24.911-05:00a day in the life.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEJYLK6dVk_zIV8KDaxyFNemnKp0v3JzCj46rS6pi0TU4AsH4wVApAIUsvGqefSxYJghJKXZvmIWwPdGrm6OeanXPrvNa-I4EqZElXCU2O2nRZ8XPbitkZPPkB-yUK4Gj4LRlDiw/s1600-h/IMG_1276.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEJYLK6dVk_zIV8KDaxyFNemnKp0v3JzCj46rS6pi0TU4AsH4wVApAIUsvGqefSxYJghJKXZvmIWwPdGrm6OeanXPrvNa-I4EqZElXCU2O2nRZ8XPbitkZPPkB-yUK4Gj4LRlDiw/s320/IMG_1276.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152552033737631954" /></a><br /><br />My day starts at 6:45am. Ok, it starts at 7am. Ok, most days it starts at 7:10am.<br /><br />I climb out of bed, turn on the Today Show and listen as Matt Lauer and Meredith Viera tell me the tales of woe/wow (depending on the story).<br /><br />I typically leave for work at 8:05am.<br /><br />"Leaving for work" consists of throwing everything from my life into my bag, checking for my keys at least three times, putting on my coat only to take it off and put it back on again, realize that I didn't make lunch and figuring out if I have cash on hand for food, and making sure I don't leave the house without my metro card (you'd be shocked at how many times I leave without it).<br /><br />I drive right to the train station, sit around for it to arrive and then board. The next 50 minutes look a little bit like the above photo.monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-79343143198935253972007-12-14T14:07:00.000-05:002008-11-13T00:33:25.124-05:00It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfB_P8Gx80aYGQZndJteph0sw2tRnXgJitY9gfog1JkFgbt2K-2n7Wq-wpKY997Qb5N_4rj09pZg1M_zsmHaHLvcZnp5JoFEduesGRMXADEi7q_A4sb8ZvdQ8EM7GWEOPkLtAGFw/s1600-h/rockefeller_angel.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfB_P8Gx80aYGQZndJteph0sw2tRnXgJitY9gfog1JkFgbt2K-2n7Wq-wpKY997Qb5N_4rj09pZg1M_zsmHaHLvcZnp5JoFEduesGRMXADEi7q_A4sb8ZvdQ8EM7GWEOPkLtAGFw/s320/rockefeller_angel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143904555173800130" /></a><br /><br />One of my favorite things to do at holiday time is check out the Rockefeller Christmas Tree. My freshman year of college was the only year I attempted going to see the tree lighting. I have fond memories of that excursion. I'll share it with you now.<br /><br />Some of the 4th Floor girls had planned on going. Somehow, our large group of 8 or so ended up being split off into a couple of smaller groups, because I really only remember hanging with my good friend Kathleen. It was pouring rain.<br /><br />And I mean buckets.<br /><br />We walked everywhere. We thought we had left with enough time to spare, but i guess arriving in Manhattan at 5pm for a 9pm lighting isn't really enough time. We were both soaked through, and in between getting rained on, trying to avoid barricades, and crushing on hot policemen, we heard the crowd at Rockefeller Plaza start the countdown. Everyone on the street though (we were just a block or two away) was also counting down, and the feeling was infectious. We counted as well, laughed along at the whole situation before heading to a Starbucks because we were so cold.<br /><br />We decided to do our own lighting. which required walking right to an adjoining building of the plaza, closing our eyes, and counting down from five while we took a few steps forward. We opened our eyes at ONE - and saw the tree for the first time.<br /><br />When life hands you lemons, right?<br /><br />I saw the tree with friends all four years of college - and all were memorable experiences. Especially that first year, and then the following year, 2001, when all the lights were Red, White and Blue. Junior year was a nice group trip, and Senior Year was the icing on the cake, when the day we decided to see the tree, it snowed.<br /><br />But the Plaza isn't just home to the tree. Lining the gardens are these angels. All lit up and trumpeting their horns. And in the background, Saks Fifth Avenue - with giant lit snowflakes, that put on their own musical show every few minutes.<br /><br />So while the hubub is all about the tree, there are plenty of other things to see (especially when there are 100 or so tourists in your way).monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-7904434385040693162007-11-26T14:48:00.000-05:002008-11-13T00:33:25.290-05:00Airport Obsession<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ow0-UiqZzvEkUsjlRtNJ_LPaZqfjg7spfSaQBDTjLv3VIyVNpUMFNi201v8XVse65B2fH2KQ-ISZV1ITztVVvKmPhfCcLc4rMFfCgrsRrtwO2Slwuskwdba487y1RSE18_i81g/s1600-h/republic+airport+sunset.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ow0-UiqZzvEkUsjlRtNJ_LPaZqfjg7spfSaQBDTjLv3VIyVNpUMFNi201v8XVse65B2fH2KQ-ISZV1ITztVVvKmPhfCcLc4rMFfCgrsRrtwO2Slwuskwdba487y1RSE18_i81g/s320/republic+airport+sunset.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137231638325741602" /></a><br /><br />I think I may have mentioned once or twice that I live right by an airport. It's small, but functional. And it's sort of a thrill to drive to the supermarket and have an aircraft directly above you. Sometimes I sit, waiting and watching helicopters, planes or derigibles (zeppelins) take off or land. It's fun. Surprisingly enough, for someone who hates to fly...I love airports. I love watching people work down on the runway, love the whoosh of incoming or departing flights, and generally love people watching. This is in direct conflict with my anxiety ridden-time obsessed half, who hates waiting, delays, large groups of people, large groups of people traveling together, crying children in public places and dead ipod batteries.<br /><br />I also love sunsets.<br /><br />Please click to enlarge. It's just not as nice in a small thumbnail.monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-64578318171121490152007-11-26T14:17:00.000-05:002008-11-13T00:33:25.451-05:00Fall-ing<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrUyspIkNcHf4NYL3VdXovIgT4l4Ya2WnvVj3PhYmqpzu9c4jodE1ciTTN39GHa5udJ8fg0IBVnjmykIjblas7RP_j19Jz3prJgGCt7329dIi9tiTcdwkXOuFYDu4FCf6c2TjDjQ/s1600-h/fall+leaves.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrUyspIkNcHf4NYL3VdXovIgT4l4Ya2WnvVj3PhYmqpzu9c4jodE1ciTTN39GHa5udJ8fg0IBVnjmykIjblas7RP_j19Jz3prJgGCt7329dIi9tiTcdwkXOuFYDu4FCf6c2TjDjQ/s320/fall+leaves.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137229349108172818" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />I'm always amazed at nature and how one day everything could be green, the next everything is vibrant and alive with color and finally, everything is bare. Fall is my favorite season of all, with my birthday, Thanksgiving, and the wonderful palette of colors in our view everyday. But fall never lasts long enough. Soon there are complaints of winter to be had, about cold snaps and dry air and the always fun thermostat war (too hot, too cold!). <br /><br />But for now, we can enjoy it.monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-63637153997009480972007-10-24T12:45:00.000-04:002008-11-13T00:33:25.571-05:00If the Great Pumpkin comes, I'll still put in a good word for you.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5PnD1T1IwZfzTIm_ikzg_i-WreNwTOusPxJgt34jxzhSBnokq6ayRlirRRGjCUClyWJDSiwOkki6N7-lstXuKsQg7zdmA25jEyaMjD-qglCCwUK953PprXnUr7LxtN_bobleeRA/s1600-h/pumpkins_07.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5PnD1T1IwZfzTIm_ikzg_i-WreNwTOusPxJgt34jxzhSBnokq6ayRlirRRGjCUClyWJDSiwOkki6N7-lstXuKsQg7zdmA25jEyaMjD-qglCCwUK953PprXnUr7LxtN_bobleeRA/s320/pumpkins_07.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5124574433821210786" border="0" /></a><br />I really like Halloween. But maybe I don't. After all, I don't enjoy coming up with a costume idea, making said costume and then wearing the thing. I also don't particularly enjoy scary movies, although a movie full of suspense can be tolerated and even enjoyed. I also don't enjoy dressing up, but I think that stems more from not being able to come up with a costume for the big day. It's a yearly tradition that on November 1, I have a "gadzooks!" moment when I think of the perfect costume for next Halloween. But I often forget the idea as quickly as it enters my head.<br /><br />This weeks picture is from a pumpkin farm out on the east end of Long Island. I just love the color and texture of the pumpkins. Not everything has to be smooth and orange.<br /><br />Happy Haunting!monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-43807563600541842842007-10-08T13:33:00.000-04:002008-11-13T00:33:25.681-05:00Better that I break the window, Than forget what I had to say<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqHqdXfhY6RZywcOefu32g2P26nPYVjcoyEyBVxNxOT2-wh9b2S4OTRa2_EgtyTXtxddADbO99C6l02u5cwJZxt9WVNplqXlIF8-LbfinSiIUov-6fWY8IGV52D1M1T47EgT_99w/s1600-h/IMG_1383.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062399773761726786" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqHqdXfhY6RZywcOefu32g2P26nPYVjcoyEyBVxNxOT2-wh9b2S4OTRa2_EgtyTXtxddADbO99C6l02u5cwJZxt9WVNplqXlIF8-LbfinSiIUov-6fWY8IGV52D1M1T47EgT_99w/s320/IMG_1383.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I find myself to be a fan of windows. Sure a breeze can float through one and you can let all the smoke out of a cooking accident out of one (not that that has ever happened to me) and if you're claustrophobic, opening a window could ease the tension. But what I really like to do is look into windows. Mostly for shopping purposes, not for creepy stalker purposes. But I do have to admit to looking into the window of a house I'm passing. Especially if it's dark out and the interior is illuminated, and the curtains pushed aside. For some reason I think this mostly happens in the fall/winter time. People have elaborate interior decorations and are just looking to share them with the passers by.<br /><br />I also love the windows themselves. Stained glass, leaded glass, six over six, bay windows, window seats, window boxes, shutters...the whole package. Maybe because they let a little bit of the outside in, so that if we choose to spend an entire day in our pajamas (not, again that I've ever done <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span>) it can still feel like we were a part of the outside world.<br /><br />Funny but my least favorite thing to shop for is window treatments. Just ask my mom. I've pushed her through displays faster than you can say "valance."monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-32257886702397043782007-09-26T15:57:00.000-04:002008-11-13T00:33:25.785-05:00Only a biker knows why a dog sticks his head out of a car window.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxbY01j2p4xhaW26yKFSobi5JpiHIQCeoF1QiMd2rudijU2MNZYJc3KkSmzdr4J2kgB6KlJA7_B9V7Gv00xNDpvI7TeJBCWvuzSfAcmORy9EFl9c5wV331dnnZJ6EPqdgsgWYbTw/s1600-h/motorcycle+wheel.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxbY01j2p4xhaW26yKFSobi5JpiHIQCeoF1QiMd2rudijU2MNZYJc3KkSmzdr4J2kgB6KlJA7_B9V7Gv00xNDpvI7TeJBCWvuzSfAcmORy9EFl9c5wV331dnnZJ6EPqdgsgWYbTw/s320/motorcycle+wheel.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114604801114912914" border="0" /></a><br />What a delinquent blogger I am! Time flies, as is always the excuse. And of course, I forgot that my two weeks were up and I was due another post. Alas, the wheels keep turning and here it is.<br /><br />I thought this picture would be appropriate given that George Clooney was in a motorcycle accident this week. Don't worry folks, he is completely fine...and that money-maker of a face is totally intact. His girlfriend however, broke her foot. That's the karmic payback for dating MY man, thank you very much.<br /><br />Actually, I've always enjoyed motorcycles, but have never been on one. I've never really had the opportunity, and I think if given the opportunity, I would take a ride. But only after a SERIOUS conversation with the driver about just how fast (way below the speed limit) he/she could go. Also, I'd like to be padded. Completely padded. And wearing, if possible, multiple helmets. Because you never know.<br /><br />Sometimes while I'm riding with the top down on my convertible, I think about how I'd like to wear a helmet. Then I think about helmet hair, and that ends that.monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-36453629029941162442007-09-10T14:28:00.000-04:002008-11-13T00:33:25.924-05:00My head's a balloon...inflating with the altitude<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZz3n0P3MDoapqUb4WlTi80s8hDGz6rghYTUHYII4rqrEITpxI-y34tG8z9R-KUVWHm9ltjcf9KBhqphjz7LHHT7Wnq9YdIn3pne5rdYbiqQhwDSggLIeZSLcb0rWqQQ6Eo75i-Q/s1600-h/hot_air_balloon.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZz3n0P3MDoapqUb4WlTi80s8hDGz6rghYTUHYII4rqrEITpxI-y34tG8z9R-KUVWHm9ltjcf9KBhqphjz7LHHT7Wnq9YdIn3pne5rdYbiqQhwDSggLIeZSLcb0rWqQQ6Eo75i-Q/s320/hot_air_balloon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108644901565529042" border="0" /></a><br /><br />A few weeks ago I visited the Metro New York Balloon and Music Festival. It was truly a site to see. Arriving early in the morning (around 6:30am) we set up our viewing area by grabbing some folding chairs from a nearby food tent and watched as the teams set up their respective balloons. It was awesome to watch a lump of fabric become something like a barn, or a space shuttle, or a dog, or a breast cancer ribbon, or the Statue of Liberty. <br /><br />It was also great for people watching. There were tons of families with kids, and also tons of Photographers. Which made for some great gear-watching too. I saw lenses the size of Texas! I got total lens envy. One photographer spotted me staring at him while he changed from one ginormous lens to an even bigger one, and chuckled to himself while I wiped the drool from my chin. <br /><br />While we were leaving some balloons from another takeoff site were landing at the festival site. It was great to watch these things in action, considering they go by the wind and heat alone. Made me think of Dorothy and OZ.monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-85846902661282808602007-08-27T14:47:00.000-04:002008-11-13T00:33:27.509-05:00What I did on my Summer Vacation, by Monica Freisem (age 24)While I don't ever remember having to write an essay entitled: What I did on my Summer Vacation, the idea of one has been portrayed in movies and media since...well...forever. Maybe my teacher friends (and relatives) can vouch for its existence. Or maybe I wrote it during my second grade school year, most of which I have blocked out, due to an abnormally evil teacher whose name shall remain anonymous, despite the fact that he lives on the same street as some family members of mine.<br /><br />Anyway, let us pretend for a moment that you dear reader, are the teacher and that I am the student. Except, ignore my bad grammar, spelling and rampant use of commas - and just focus on the facts ma'am. The hard, summer vacation facts.<br /><br />I went to Italy. And it was glorious. Here now, is a small recap of the picture taking spectacle that was my vacation...<br /><br />(Click to enlarge any of the photos)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnRVn_W3DVOhcw0NuBw8jkR7fkcv57yuq8ykEzIO7Vrqjp9ZqXbW-Rq9T7R-lVQqHUarrTkc6nt2N3QINb74PZY8A4baOtk3GH2nr-T0f7mqjesiJUf1p6JSrfG-XIEGJ30FA45w/s1600-h/scooters_cattolica.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnRVn_W3DVOhcw0NuBw8jkR7fkcv57yuq8ykEzIO7Vrqjp9ZqXbW-Rq9T7R-lVQqHUarrTkc6nt2N3QINb74PZY8A4baOtk3GH2nr-T0f7mqjesiJUf1p6JSrfG-XIEGJ30FA45w/s320/scooters_cattolica.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103439658900814594" border="0" /></a>Scooters are everywhere. And they are cute. And they make cute noises. And I want one really, really badly.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-FtEgcHqQC5_tYikz4ztoj7cxBWTUkfbvc1oQk9SO0IkCCuYiNXNfFW0D0CWGjaOjS4VaexnZHmcQFmx8zhMsZi8o20KEC6zfhOFA-z7FVfyD9ITIivB70odZTDAGBoVcfn2Cg/s1600-h/rome_nightstreets.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA-FtEgcHqQC5_tYikz4ztoj7cxBWTUkfbvc1oQk9SO0IkCCuYiNXNfFW0D0CWGjaOjS4VaexnZHmcQFmx8zhMsZi8o20KEC6zfhOFA-z7FVfyD9ITIivB70odZTDAGBoVcfn2Cg/s320/rome_nightstreets.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103440389045255042" border="0" /></a>The streets in Rome come alive at night with the sounds of people eating in outdoor restaurants and Piazzas. This was on our walk home from our restaurant in Rome, just blocks away from the Pantheon.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQYAd9xk5crFpBbAPn4sSOgBv4XQHq1jd7YpSO57D6Vn6pI-eZxNQ0vrknY3dR2eOJGADx_ItG7Par4U9AeMtApb_1agGpcQQWtAla1q-RBtyskS5IcPclySpohrcqDH21F4gE3g/s1600-h/colosseum.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQYAd9xk5crFpBbAPn4sSOgBv4XQHq1jd7YpSO57D6Vn6pI-eZxNQ0vrknY3dR2eOJGADx_ItG7Par4U9AeMtApb_1agGpcQQWtAla1q-RBtyskS5IcPclySpohrcqDH21F4gE3g/s320/colosseum.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103439663195781906" border="0" /></a><br />Walking through the Colosseum was a truly amazing experience. To walk through a building that has seen so much history, and has remained standing through literally - thousands of years was simply mind boggling.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRVkVBfneDkEXLFZUazNi3J2tuAwzZEVn2sCDlGkLHQt91vyM3WIi5S3TReWjZof4UltMHBBizbH29vZggQ9Urz95HI86kxQzlJsyjnYH9qJduDHhVK7tD4RSjMVtBFx9IamyhlA/s1600-h/stpeters_rome.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRVkVBfneDkEXLFZUazNi3J2tuAwzZEVn2sCDlGkLHQt91vyM3WIi5S3TReWjZof4UltMHBBizbH29vZggQ9Urz95HI86kxQzlJsyjnYH9qJduDHhVK7tD4RSjMVtBFx9IamyhlA/s320/stpeters_rome.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103439667490749218" border="0" /></a><br />The Vatican was another once in a lifetime event. Not that I'll never go back, but NOTHING can possibly top walking into St Peter's and witnessing the mingling of Art and Faith in such a harmonious way. I was moved to tears at seeing the Pieta in person, after years of seeing it in books. And to think that Michaelangelo completed it when he was 25 years old! Truly a wondrous feat.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-C4vrRxSUakzXxAiVPzEZI2oZ9g1dQ97hCqI_AhNTyI2Q6TqckRB8Lx_rOZLAf1tx5Qhu7CsMZ9dcHPZSZnsMtahWVSjsvxaC-xplWnFgAJbZhuJAy7Dw-Andkp6WUDlhF1oLQ/s1600-h/pontevecchio_night.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9-C4vrRxSUakzXxAiVPzEZI2oZ9g1dQ97hCqI_AhNTyI2Q6TqckRB8Lx_rOZLAf1tx5Qhu7CsMZ9dcHPZSZnsMtahWVSjsvxaC-xplWnFgAJbZhuJAy7Dw-Andkp6WUDlhF1oLQ/s320/pontevecchio_night.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103439676080683842" border="0" /></a><br />Italian for "Old Bridge," The Ponte Vecchio is host to shops and tourists, lovers and friends and at night...really great Beatles, Eagles and U2 cover singers. These two guys gave a show both nights that we were in Florence. And both nights they gave the group of tourists something they would never forget. We loved their rendition of "No Woman, No Cry."<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8uf3p3zQOBI-YvyMOElQrLGy78AkdLlzI1nRqAm7XXfDtgb7eIq9z1MezMk4RWyq5JZU5X0_sUPGicYxtrj1E43TAG-NOX8oAei3Wo3CJ-DBV5UOqZvowohs_DfeRzigfNLMX3g/s1600-h/duomo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8uf3p3zQOBI-YvyMOElQrLGy78AkdLlzI1nRqAm7XXfDtgb7eIq9z1MezMk4RWyq5JZU5X0_sUPGicYxtrj1E43TAG-NOX8oAei3Wo3CJ-DBV5UOqZvowohs_DfeRzigfNLMX3g/s320/duomo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103439671785716530" border="0" /></a>The Duomo. Not quite sure what to say about it. Except that it is amazing. And Florence is amazing.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKOov5iX4o1aH91REztRYGMB-aWhypgB3G8swhJXu-0sUysAzCPkO0u41SyfS9Z70FGlxzg7QrE0X9DsKafvP0q9cwgfcdg3JWRazZWsD0QmmOA8kw6fIHnBsGESATyFsCWi7Skg/s1600-h/sanmarino_view.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKOov5iX4o1aH91REztRYGMB-aWhypgB3G8swhJXu-0sUysAzCPkO0u41SyfS9Z70FGlxzg7QrE0X9DsKafvP0q9cwgfcdg3JWRazZWsD0QmmOA8kw6fIHnBsGESATyFsCWi7Skg/s320/sanmarino_view.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103440174296890210" border="0" /></a>We visited San Marino, the oldest Republic in Italy. Coolest thing about San Marino (aside from the amazing views from the top of the mountain) is that their calendars start from the year 301...but only on paper. So, if you bring your passport (we didn't) you can get a stamp, and feel like a true Marty McFly.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsRrwuNRUVGcOjEdAMSBVhxxfvRwC1SeJMUDE1wPq5d4IZOQ7bpBPm4h7qaF_4t987q8jibf5FvhFA16QisxbEOt0dXf1-zIknRl2HCLuaS9gmW8spjekjbz01RGxnMB2Twdyndg/s1600-h/sanmarino_cross.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsRrwuNRUVGcOjEdAMSBVhxxfvRwC1SeJMUDE1wPq5d4IZOQ7bpBPm4h7qaF_4t987q8jibf5FvhFA16QisxbEOt0dXf1-zIknRl2HCLuaS9gmW8spjekjbz01RGxnMB2Twdyndg/s320/sanmarino_cross.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103440170001922898" border="0" /></a>Our Day in San Marino started out beautiful, but soon there were some threatening clouds. It never really rained on us, just a few drops here and there. We managed to stay completely dry. But the clouds were really something to see, especially on the mountaintop.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwltqyYLmNaSdQ7Pw0-oWohHkSDB4crEFXweCwKfvOQvwkqRdlUxq1fmCamyGmD5c7NwPLzZPOxnfWYr2BVvqvM5wQEsY7a3mjNG27SFRTOTui35l9oBezTvy7m2c1kuo0ueFPlw/s1600-h/gondolas_venice.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwltqyYLmNaSdQ7Pw0-oWohHkSDB4crEFXweCwKfvOQvwkqRdlUxq1fmCamyGmD5c7NwPLzZPOxnfWYr2BVvqvM5wQEsY7a3mjNG27SFRTOTui35l9oBezTvy7m2c1kuo0ueFPlw/s320/gondolas_venice.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103440182886824818" border="0" /></a><br />Having only spent one day in Venice I can say only this: I have to go back. I loved it. It was a great vibe, once you got away from the intense tourist crowds. But the gondolas are a true site to see and a city build on water is exactly what it is. Truly Spectacular.<br /><br />To see the rest of my pictures from Italy, you can click <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/fryzemphotography/sets/72157601612930107/">here.</a>monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-26615732242866986022007-08-06T12:14:00.000-04:002008-11-13T00:33:27.630-05:00discarded furniture<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtyQd_NuUgeoMXX6_OUCb-sF8QGauDjdpg0g-rQX2FgxM7sD9AbbgLdfzgNPUkhEOWXXXFowgVd9j8UsGUJs9Vkm5RLowgKuw690UWSkQqblUknscQSHk-zfJwswKfbUVs7dUfvQ/s1600-h/discarded+furniture.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtyQd_NuUgeoMXX6_OUCb-sF8QGauDjdpg0g-rQX2FgxM7sD9AbbgLdfzgNPUkhEOWXXXFowgVd9j8UsGUJs9Vkm5RLowgKuw690UWSkQqblUknscQSHk-zfJwswKfbUVs7dUfvQ/s320/discarded+furniture.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5095621646004579506" /></a><br /><br />I'm a fan of new furniture. I'm actually in the market for a new coffee table. But there's something about looking at an old piece of furniture that grounds you. Makes you wonder about the history of the piece, and then in turn, the history of the pieces in your own home. About the oldest thing I own is an over sized arm chair and ottoman that I purchased at a garage sale for 50 bucks. What was its life before it started anew in my home? According to the man who sold it to me, his adorable dog made it his home. Which probably means no one sat on it much, save for the dog. I vacuumed and Febreezed that thing so often the first couple of weeks I had it.<br /><br />But I do know of several pieces that hold history. And if they could talk, they'd probably tell tales of children who sat on their feet (instead of on their behinds), of spilled milk and boiling hot pans with no pot holders.<br /><br />It's good to sit back and wonder about your history every once and a while. I'd like to think the pieces in the above photograph had an interesting life. I took this while doing work for the <a href="http://www.theclockworktheatre.org">Clockwork Theater's</a> first production, <span style="font-weight:bold;">True West</span>. The theater that housed them was on the Lower East Side, and in the "courtyard" behind the building was all of this discarded furniture. Who knows which accomplished NYC actors and actresses may have called these pieces "props" in their heyday. Or maybe, they haven't been there all that long, and I'm just feeling sentimental. Yeah, that's probably it.monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-26895222160024728432007-07-23T12:16:00.000-04:002008-11-13T00:33:27.728-05:00stop. stop. stop. no really, STOP<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZXLYUmeccDzGxYUFJ3bSEUD51J6xmKS3Jtqud8u9vRf6DX1eslyxvwcYmHOB7Zl-6EPpteKuEBmtvjHQerIFXjkb-xDMR4m8l6ofFT7ChqacOOMrF_ZTcZ-CsO78IipAg6tzYQ/s1600-h/IMG_1068.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCZXLYUmeccDzGxYUFJ3bSEUD51J6xmKS3Jtqud8u9vRf6DX1eslyxvwcYmHOB7Zl-6EPpteKuEBmtvjHQerIFXjkb-xDMR4m8l6ofFT7ChqacOOMrF_ZTcZ-CsO78IipAg6tzYQ/s320/IMG_1068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017509095232821170" border="0" /></a><br /><br />one of my favorite thing to do is take pictures at night. this is usually because most of the fun in my life happens after dark. actually, that's not true. it's because you get pictures like the one above, with great light effects. this picture was captured as I was a passenger in a car (please, don't attempt photography while driving) using a long exposure, but in constant motion. I think the effect is quite bizarre, but fun. Sort of like the treat of a video below...<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/t-6wh3_XS_k"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/t-6wh3_XS_k" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object>monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-7634200881669149262007-07-11T16:41:00.000-04:002008-11-13T00:33:28.143-05:00at the beachAs I mentioned in my earlier post, I was away all last week on vacation. I spent the week at the Jersey Shore with my family. It was fantastic. Mostly great weather, with the combo I love of warm days and chilly nights (hoodie sweatshirt chilly). And so, to celebrate my return, not one but two photos that I snapped while on vacation.<br /><br />The first, a Fisherman in the morning.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYP2Kkm7BbOa7Fo4TPHw2cwrWECEkT3iSWgmMMx4dcn-nGd1N8GPIOZTV3faclhet8qYpfjODFrG5FRclGuyMzxXLbLd3hTAMzjpTz4D91eq99U8ZN2RsJw6UNGKQHcyDdqK2g3Q/s1600-h/fisherman.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYP2Kkm7BbOa7Fo4TPHw2cwrWECEkT3iSWgmMMx4dcn-nGd1N8GPIOZTV3faclhet8qYpfjODFrG5FRclGuyMzxXLbLd3hTAMzjpTz4D91eq99U8ZN2RsJw6UNGKQHcyDdqK2g3Q/s320/fisherman.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086040924656553954" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The second, a photo suggested by my Aunt Claire, shot with the help of my cousin-in-law Rob's tripod, and executed by me: bicycles in the moonlight.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1qSZHIp3RawBF6fgYXg6u1Bh-q2h49_s3MFUAZ0LrSi08_60cBS-B5IGd7KuSgSx9dKnkh7KM4JbfbYORmACaNGEXb1dr2XJpgJsGjKLoCOtJ-YKpCZEMm4brc4xNrbdvVmuVmA/s1600-h/IMG_0033.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1qSZHIp3RawBF6fgYXg6u1Bh-q2h49_s3MFUAZ0LrSi08_60cBS-B5IGd7KuSgSx9dKnkh7KM4JbfbYORmACaNGEXb1dr2XJpgJsGjKLoCOtJ-YKpCZEMm4brc4xNrbdvVmuVmA/s320/IMG_0033.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085806501046570962" border="0" /></a>monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-67235503658374711482007-06-25T13:22:00.000-04:002008-11-13T00:33:28.282-05:00relaxing game of checkers<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk4awUvh2_RgsqsiE85YTUkhaG8EGQFTeQKchFo6YR0WNs0hAoKhsTu6paOlexZXPdV6ZPfNEktzPrdARzvCEBsJLxUj5Lxae1T3sEdS2D46CYtk9wAfgWwUh_hXOZv4dXMWICYw/s1600-h/IMG_0646.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062398455206766882" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk4awUvh2_RgsqsiE85YTUkhaG8EGQFTeQKchFo6YR0WNs0hAoKhsTu6paOlexZXPdV6ZPfNEktzPrdARzvCEBsJLxUj5Lxae1T3sEdS2D46CYtk9wAfgWwUh_hXOZv4dXMWICYw/s320/IMG_0646.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />I can't play chess.<br /><br />Wait, I should rephrase. Not that I can't play chess, I just don't know how (because you know if I did, I'd be whoopin folks like Bobby Fischer).<br /><br />I've always wanted to learn though. I have to settle for the stupid man's chess...checkers. Not to put checkers down or anything, because I know it's the sacred game of my mother and my cousin Kelly (also my birthday twin, though not in year, just in day). A coworker of mine keeps a chess set on his desk and he plays periodic games with other coworkers. I've asked him to teach me. He laughed and said, "we'll see." He must know how frustrated I get when I'm learning something. But I come around eventually and it's smooth sailing from then on. Ooooh...sailing...there's a thought...<br /><br />Anyone have a spare boat around?monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38188469.post-51427991162371202582007-06-12T11:13:00.000-04:002008-11-13T00:33:28.450-05:00i'm into betting<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdtBy8zowWCXWe18znTxYNQCzfohjEBoQ_BnDDw1d-xCLGEriwzKoF8te5UqBa3UIyqABQadEOoZ-q7DCay46NodrBjUzv0C9f8DQboyfiToeFgQkQZ3Xhv9U_7wfBIcDFalysQg/s1600-h/IMG_0850.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017508253419231122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdtBy8zowWCXWe18znTxYNQCzfohjEBoQ_BnDDw1d-xCLGEriwzKoF8te5UqBa3UIyqABQadEOoZ-q7DCay46NodrBjUzv0C9f8DQboyfiToeFgQkQZ3Xhv9U_7wfBIcDFalysQg/s320/IMG_0850.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><p>Summertime is finally upon us! Ok, so the first day of summer isn't for a couple of weeks, but still, the temperature is rising, the humidity is taking hold, and we're in the home stretch of Spring. </p><p>I took this picture back in January, at Chuck E Cheese. And before you ask, no I wasn't skulking around, trying to lure little children away from their parents. I was actually there to participate in some good old fashioned fun, with my cousins Megan and Samantha. They're 17 by the way. But they love that indoor jungle gym. As I was walking around (24 really is too old for the indoor jungle gym) I took notice of all the different games Mr. Cheese has to offer. Everything from a kid version of "Dance Dance Revolution" to "Whack a Mole" and even...this perculiar and totally fun game...lacking a name, I'm going to call it: "the coin game that totally sucks all the money out of your wallet."</p><p>The rules of the game are easy:</p><p>1. Insert coin into one of the slots</p><p>2. Try to position the falling coin so that it pushes other coins off the ledge, thereby netting you a lot more coins. </p><p>This game almost always results in losses. But it is SO much fun to play. In the adult version, instead of Chuck E. Cheese coins, there is usually a 10 or 20 dolalr bill weighed down by some coins just a hair away from the edge of the ledge. Obviously I will lay down 12 dollars in quarters for this prize.</p><p>This game is at almost every street fair and carnival for the entire summer. So play while the playing is good. </p>monicafreisemhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02065411505485938633noreply@blogger.com