Oh, me, oh, me, oh, me, oh, my

Yesterday I was whale-watching in the Gulf Islands. (You can click on the photo for a rare large-format image on Flickr.)

I had a good time, but it wasn’t until I got home last night that a deep, weighing depression began to crush me. I couldn’t figure it out. Money seemed to be the logical choice, and I launched into that rant you see below this posting.

(Actually, I had an awesome time. For more images, click on the photo, go to Flickr, hit ALL SIZES and see the large format shot, then go to my photostream and do the same to the other two whale photos.)

It was later in the night, though, that I remembered my mom and remembered how much she’d have loved to be there yesterday.

She was a sailor, you know, and sailed throughout BC (one of the top sailing destinations in the world-- Desolation Sound and beyond) as well as in the Mediterranean on varied trips.

The ocean’s been in our blood for generations, but my mom took it to a new place and put us back on the water again.

I’ve been on a number of boatrides in the past few years, but this is the first to affect me. I wish I’d thought of her when on the water, I think I’d have better made my peace with it then.

Instead, I’m in a bit of a fog this morning. It’s starting to clear, and that’s great, but it’s taken awhile.

Strange how we can think it’s one thing that’s bothering us, when it’s really an altogether different matter that’s eating us.

And here I am, on a fitting day to be lost in remembrances. It’s cloudy, dark, and dreary. But that’s all right. Suits my mindset.

* * *

Speaking of me, there’s a recent trend among a few sites where the authors are posting photos of themselves. I’ve been meaning to post something for awhile now, but I’d feel better about it if I had a good photo. Sadly, no.

So this is a self-portrait I took on the boat yesterday. I need a haircut, my face is sunburned and puffy, and I look grumpy, but c’est la vie. You can see a dreaded larger photo on Flickr by clicking on the images.

This is a photo a coworker named Jeff took years ago in the Yukon. He was a cool guy, one of the many Jeffs I’ve worked with in my life. And it’s always confusing to me, because people will call for Jeff and I’ll think they’ve said Steff, and chaos ensues. Sigh. But this is the only photo I’ve ever felt that captured my coy side of my personality. :) I was inappropriately flirting with him (I was his superior) when he shot this 10 years ago. Heh.

And this was another self-portrait I took in February. Since then, I’ve lost about 10 or so pounds, which you can’t tell in the puffy-burnt-Steff photo, but hey. And the hair's usually in a more punk-rock mode when it's properly cut and at the right short length.