Well there was Intrepid Yours Truly, having just battled her way down chain-rich Transit Road and wending down icy roads to, ultimately, Lockport High School.
Why, You reasonably ask, for You know that YT is perhaps usually heading towards arts destinations in said Lockport, instead of sporting venues.
YT was shooting b-ball for photo editor pal Jim.
When I wended to the newspaper offices, and he was loading the images, I offered that I'd gotten some real Ballet Moments.
After he perused he did concur.
Keyword is anticipation.
Made some images today thus far of a stunningly beautiful geologist femme, and snowscenes around and about.

Icy, sparkly Love.

Back from a Planned Parenthood (today is thee thirty-fifth anniversary of Roe v. Wade) benefit at the ChipStrip dance club Level, also a mini exhibition for K.C. Kratt - images of femmes and hommes with tattoos.
Much discussion about pros, cons of inking.
And, of course, Yours Truly had to mention to a few the (unfortunate) ink from the X, a small nearly-complete star on the inside of an ankle.
This is small enough that YT knows that it's there, and most days it's forgotten.
It's a funny small collection of dots.
I told K.C. and Deb that I'd love to do a cover-up but then, really, why call more attention to this little dime-sized area.
Deb and I discussed the state of dancebars in the Middling City, not a really great one.
Level happens to have a lot of potential.
Still do miss the passing of The Continental, that imperfect joint with really fab dancefloor lined with mirrors and sternum-crushing sound.
The MC is covered in perfect snowman-making snow.
Making snow Love.

One Year, exactly one year.
Pam gave me a 1-20-09 t-shirt this past Friday morn (along with a bevy of other wonderful belated b-day gifts) during our java klatsch at SPoT. It's a nice pale green. It is now one of my favorite shirts, to be placed atop the other of similar ilk, purchased on Lafayette en route to school one fine sunny day:
The only Bush I trust is my own.
Today is also the birth anniversary of Pahts in MN in, undoubtedly, minus five degrees and layers of snow. And, quite probably, his warm kitchen cooking something wondrous. He was the first person I knew that made confit, he put it on my (and several others') culinary atlas.
On my birthday he sent me excerpts from his journal of all that happened on my birthday through the ages - a very touching gift indeed.
Meandered about the campuses of the Big U yesterday in the sun-blasted, pristine snow, trudging along with cam around neck, breathing laboriously into a scarf tied tightly around my neck to keep my face from freezing.
The images are striking, frames full of frozen buildings, trees, shadows.
There are more Perfect cloud-strewn skies and sun and it may be time to wend to shooting in the next few hours before all goes too blue.

Not too blue, Love.