Why can’t I quit you, iPhone?!

My current musical addiction is Charlotte Gainsbourg.  Her new album, IRM with Beck, is AMAZING, and very Mutations-esque.  Here is “Trick Pony”, because my phone is one tricky trickster, and I heart ponies.

[All photos in this post were taken with the iPhoney.]

Wallpaper at a sweet breakfast cafe in the Mission, SF.

Monsieur Jobs should have called it the iPal. That is what my iPhone is, my little pocket pal. I mean, it even vibrates…come, on.  I cannot even begin to remember what my life was like before I had an iPhone in my possession. How did I manage such a disconnected existence?  An existence of where all of my daily questions would go unanswered, instantaneously unanswered anyways.  This general addiction to the iPhone has become an epidemic. I am ashamed, yet relieved, to say that I have been a carrier since early 2008. Yes, please award me my gold-star-stamp-of-cool. I am also proud to admit that I still rock the original generation, and have managed to keep it on my person for that entirety. I have not lost it, and have not run it over with my Subaru, yet.  Consequently, this relationship with my iPhone is the quintessential love versus hate.  One fine day, I received this particular phone from dear Kyle, who had it for almost a year before he gave it to me (he has since realized his mistake). This means that this little gizmo is actually going on three years old. In techno years, that is the age of a decomposing, 85 year old man.  I am just now thinking that I should probably be more careful with my wee iPal.

My point is, it blows copious amounts of projectile carrot chunks… as a phone.  When it comes to making/receiving/holding a call… the thing is a POS.  On the contrary, as a personal assistant I would pay it a six-figure salary for functionality, reliance and aesthetics (not to mention coolness). And as consistent to all Apple products, it’s a sheer beauty.  It is easy to navigate; and continues to systematically surprise and amaze me with it’s capabilities. And, let me reiterate that I only have the original model, I can’t even receive media text messages (I know, super lame-sauce).  Regardless, my hat’s off to you, Jonathon Ive, you design beautiful pieces of machinery.

Rooftop window lookout room in the De Young Museum

Let us move on to this “App” craze.  Man oh man.  Until I moved to the west coast, I had been mildly interested in how many applications my iPhone fashioned.  People would spy that I owned an iPhone, yoink it out of my hand saying, “You got any sweet apps?!”. They would be quickly disappointed in the practicality of my applications. Honestly, I just avoided them.  Just like I avoid everything that overwhelms me.  And in the beginning (the beginning of the iPhone epidemic) they weren’t as prevalent, and I just kind of, well…forgot. How much I had been missing out on, all of that time.  Like when I discovered that In-N-Out made a grilled cheese sandwich, for vegetarians. How much my life improved!  There is probably even an app where you could remotely order from In-N-Out Burger, where you could already get your little number and show up when your food was ready. No more waiting and salivating. I all of a sudden want a chocolate milkshake. Someone come up with that app, and don’t doddle!

Deliciousness at Cafe Gratitude, SF.

Now, this little pal has been exceptionally functional and necessary upon moving to a new place. Namely, freeway riddled, ultra populated, hyper-cool California.

Baker Beach and some fancy bridge

Here is Exuma, I don’t know what’s going on when I don’t have my phone!

I am always lost, and in need of directional assistance.   Who do I turn to… my genius, babycakes iPhone riding in my purse, that’s who!  The State of California has banned holding your phone to your ear and text messaging while operating a motor vehicle.  Those actions are small potatoes when it comes to plugging a destination into the Maps feature. I do it. I do it a lot, while I am driving, oops. As far as I know, it is still a legal action. And what would I do without my push updates from Facebook? I must know about every comment, ever made, ever, ever, ever.  I also use the Yelp app like I ingest wine. It tells me everything I need to know. If you don’t have it, stop reading this and get it, right now. Go.

I could go on and on here.

On the contrary, when I say that I want to smash my pal between my Forester’s tire and the pavement, it is for good reason.  My patience for these dropped calls is becoming increasingly more slender with every passing day.  As for the missed messages, and generally bad/no service, unfortunately, I also happen to live in a black hole for mobile service.  Sir iPhone behaves much better when I am everywhere but my house. I have decided to try my patience until the new 4G (that is in the 4^th Generation, not 4G network, kids) is released.  They talk about June as a date. They also talk about the fact that it will do anything imaginable, like the dishes, make you dinner, and go to the bathroom in the middle of the night for you. Sounds like a dream, eh?  Yeah, well, I am stoked on the built-in flash and supposed 5 megapixel camera.  With that sort of carrot dangled in front of my European nose, I have decided to wait it out.  Yes, I could just get a different phone, like a Crackberry, or a hip new Android.  Blasphemy!  Once you have gone iPhone, you never go back. And that is a Mac promise.

Too bad the iPad does not fit in my pocket, and it doesn’t vibrate either…

Muir Beach with the sister.

Can you live a day without your iPhone? Or any phone? Yes, yes you can, try to remember what it was like to plan your life.  I was originally going to leave my phone locked away somewhere and then write about it…. but I would probably get lost and end up in a ditch in Richmond.

Although that would make for some good story telling…

Diet?

This has been sitting on my desktop, gathering spring pollen dust for weeks now. A little dated, but still something that needs to be shared.

I went on a crazy diet that left me with such low blood sugar, that I fainted in the elevator. (at the doctors office, no less) Ugh.

As promised, I continued with Twenty-Ten resolutions…

But first, this is Clues. The song is “Cave Mouth” I thought the mouth part was appropriate, and I just generally LOVE this tune. (cheers Ky!)

Resolution #2 PLEASE RID ME OF MY CANDIDA

In early January I was fortunate enough to be able to travel to THE city, that little one in New York. This trip reconfirmed my ever lasting, undying love for the Big Apple and all that it carries.  Unfortunately, the little sniffley sort throat I had acquired upon flying out from San Francisco, morphed itself into a lovely little sinus infection.  But did I let that get me down? Not one bit. I was in muthafriggin New York City, and sharing it with my favorite person, reconnecting with some of my favorite people. Did my body appreciate being ignored? Not one bit. I caved and finally listened to my angry sinuses and acquired antibiotics upon returning to my grocery store reality. Although it was not a damp and frigid 20 degrees in lovely East Bay, as it was in NYC,  I was not going to get better by sunshine and rainbows at this point.

———

A Historical Interjection:

Once upon a time, when the author of this blog was an adolescent, she had some major dermatological struggles. She had acne. Not just the typical facial hormone screams, but the kind that was even inside her ears.

Gross.

Instead of turning to Naturopathic practices, or holistic remedial diet tactics, she went to the “skin doctor”. He was a good guy, listened to her low self-esteem filled cries for help and aided her with every pseudo- magical topical agent, and zit-be-gone pill that was available. Much to her dismay, nothing worked.  The Derm MD then resorted to the heroine of acne drugs (insert Jaws theme here) Accutane.  A serious drug that necessitated a monthly blood test to see if her liver had or had not exploded.

Neat.

Did these extreme measures work? Yes! Yes it bloody well did the trick. Not only did it rid of her of her skin problems, but it also killed much of the good bacteria in her body, the good guys. The guys who eat the mass amounts of sugar, like those in carbohydrates, chocolate, cheese, and all the other lovely foods she had (has) a tendency to consume. And when those good guys are gone, the bad guy, by the name of Candida, began to show his nasty face.  He’s the type that loves to have a gang of yeast around him. The Yeast Gang have guns that shoot bullets of aches, tiredness, bloating and general depressive lethargy (not to forget that it can also lead to that common women problem we all adore, ugh.)  The Yeast Gang LOVE sugar.  And guess what is in wine, vino, the drink of the gods… Yeast and Sugar.

Great Great Great.

———

Back to the post NY head congestion… As you have probably guessed, I now try very hard to avoid any kind of antibiotic.  But in this instance I had no choice and did not want to end up with Pneumonia, or H1N1 something or other. You can also guess which gang came back in full force shortly there after.

Now, since I was now back to reality, and leading a pretty mellow lifestyle, I figured… Hey Mak, why not try to get rid of the Candida, once and for all, eh?  And that’s what I had been trying to do in February.

Let me try to explain the diet that lasted three weeks. One could label it as a Vegan-Diabetic-Celiac-Alcohol-free.

Quinoa, mmmmmmmm.

And from that, you can probably figure out the limited menu I had to work around.  My usual consuming habits are chocked full of bread and cheese and wine and chocolate.  Oh, and caffeine. I had to kick my coffee. Which all in all, may have been the worst to overcome…the headaches, oh the headaches.  So, as you can also imagine, that first week was the worst, as my body was ridding itself of all the toxicities that I usually carry around with me. After that was over, it became a course in resisting temptation.  A few things happened to my body.  Listen up ladies, because this is the diet to end all diets. I lost weight, of course. I also ceased to have any cellulite or puffiness. You know, the spare tire/muffin top that we all adore? Yup, gone. My eyes also became much brighter- the lethargic gray was gone.

I had created a regular eating and sleeping schedule, and omitted all sugar (not just refined sugars, but high sugar fruit as well), caffeine and alcohol. I was doing regular exercise, namely Yoga and drinking plenty of water.  I was feeling pretty fantastic, although I definitely felt like I was constantly hungry. It is also very difficult to make time and be creative with what to eat.  But years of practice by being a vegetarian helped, and so did willpower.  I now have a greater respect for those with serious food allergies. What a pain in the ass it is to worry about the content of everything that you put in your face. My hat’s off to you, sirs.

In case you were wondering, I also used a homeopathic supplement called Candi-gone, to aid in the resistance. If you would like more details on this crazy diet, let me know. I would be more then happy to help.

All in all, I think it worked, for the most part. If anything, I proved to myself that I had that kind of discipline. After about 20 days I did, however, discover that my blood sugar started to become dangerously low, and the sugar abstinence had to stop. Hence the fainting episode that occurred at the doctors office. The funny part is was at the doctors not for the candida thing, but for nothing other then an overdue physical. The pass out gave me a literal whack to head and made me realize that I needed to eat some sugar, and fast.  I have now returned to the comfortable bread-cheese-wine-chocolate-coffee existence. But I am much more conscientious of what I consume. What did I learn from this experience?  Sometimes it is good to restrict yourself to a strict regime, but mostly, I think it is more important to be happy.  Decadent food and divine wine give me great enjoyment, and it is part of my lifestyle – I shouldn’t fight it.  I just hope that in the end, I have managed feign off the Candida, forever.

Today I ask you to just let it roll…

The Ballad of Sir Frankie Crisp, I love you, George Harrison.

Let it roll across the floor, and out the door.

Astutely Resolute

Hello again, awwww. This is nice, feels great…it’s been too long since I have been here.  A wise Shaw told me that he believed my lack of recent blogging was due to living more and not writing about living. He was pretty spot on. In fact, I have been doing a lot of living and contemplating and resolving. All perfect beginnings to this twenty ten path of change and success, right? Right!

For your musical accompaniment today, I have chosen “Un Dia” by Juana Molina, a little gem of a lady from Buenos Aires. If you have not heard of her, Radiolab did a short podcast about her, look it up! The translation: “One day I will be someone different/One day I will live in the middle of the country and dance, dance, dance!”

I realize that I am a little behind on New Years jargon, but I was born 3 weeks late and that has been my doomed, rarely punctual existence ever since.  Coincidentally, that topic is my first order of business in this first post of this fantastic new year.

Resolution #1 BE ON TIME TO WORK

For some of us, this is a problem that is hard to correct. It all started in High School when you just didn’t give a rat’s ass about being on time.  Although it is hilarious that I would show up at the same time every day, only 5 minutes late. Why couldn’t/can’t I just make my time of arrival 5 minutes earlier? I obviously am capable of showing up at the same time on a daily basis, just the wrong time. And if you know me, even a little bit, you know that I have a problem. I am completely aware of this predicament and it is a struggle, day in and day out.

My mother tells me it is arrogance. Maybe I have a lateness problem because my mother thinks I am arrogant?

All joking aside, it is a serious issue that I am determined to rectify, or at least be better-ify. I have even (just) come up with a name for this ailment “Retardiness”.

Think about it, it’s perfect.

I think there will be books published on the matter of Retardiness soon, maybe there already is one…

I just searched, and yes, there are plenty; “Chronic Lateness” they call it (I like mine better). Here is my favorite excuse from a business exec about one of his employees:

“One morning, more than two hours late, she called to explain that she’d awakened to discover two male window washers on scaffolding outside her bedroom window,” he said. “Because she slept nude, she said, she was waiting for them to leave before she could get up and come to work.”

I might have to borrow that one… Bah. No! because I am going to make an effort to change my habits.

Fortunately I am never two hours late unless there is a real problem, ie. my plane was delayed, I forgot about daylight savings, or I hit an elephant with my car.

I am generally in the 5-25 minutes late range. I have been delving more and more into the question of why I do this to myself. I used to think that it was because I had such a hard time getting out of bed in the morning that I let myself sleep in until the last possible moment (after about 4 snooze button smacks).  Nope, it is not so easy Michaela Joy.

I currently start work at 4pm. As in AFTER noon.  A time when most are preparing to leave work. And if I have trouble getting out of bed to go to work, it is because I went to bed at 8 that morning. What would I do on most days before work? Oh, nothing really of substance.  I would get up perpetually late and stay in sweats until right before I have to leave and then race around trying to get ready and run out the door, barely giving myself enough time to get there. I also have a tendency to gauge my amount of time I need to make it there based on that one time that I made it there in a ridiculous small amount of time. Meaning, I went 30 miles over the speed limit, with absolutely no traffic and made every signal complete with a parking spot waiting for me out front. Which means, I can make it there in this short, unrealistic amount of time.  And apparently in my tardy filled world, I always think positive and that will happen every time. Chyeah.

Am I an imbecile? I did go to college, three of them in fact. I even have a fancy expensive piece of paper to prove this fact. And it’s not like I am floozie who gets distracted by smelling flowers or catching my reflection in the mirror (okay, maybe I have done that once or twice). I do always try to make it on time, the universe just gets in my way.

At least, that is what I deemed to be true, until I started realizing how much I try to squeeze into my day, how much I always wanted to spend just two extra minutes flossing my teeth or somebody distracted me, or I had to upload new music on my phone…

I suddenly decided that I will no longer be late to work and hope that this small change will escalate into the rest of my endeavors and in turn, change me into a more punctual individual. This was also given the extra shove when people at work started noticing. (Hey, I live in a new place, I got away with it for a long while… geez, I am arrogant, shit.)

I now try to go to bed earlier, wake up at a decent hour and exercise early. Therefore, I take a shower earlier and then the process is already done and I just have to go when the time is right. I even have time to run errands and actually cook a decent meal to bring with me. (These new habits are brought on by Resolution # 2: PLEASE RID ME OF CANDIDA, which will be my next posting)

You may be wondering, well Mak, did it work? Are you on time now? And I am proud to say that it has worked. I will be honest and say there were a couple days in the last month where I was late, but that is a HUGE improvement. I still stress out about getting there, but it is a process, I hope to alleviate all this stress and maybe start arriving early??? Nooooo, that would be apocalyptic.

My question for you is to think about a vice that you really want to be rid of and do it. Starting today.

The time is now, don’t waste it…. by being late. HA.

[Oh Yeah, Happy Bloody Valentines Day.]

TREEs continued

Okay, so I feel like I live in Seattle again… only the coffee isn’t as good and the people are way too chipper.  It’s been raining for about a week straight.  I have been feeling the gray gloom and doom settling in; which is allowing me to start really pining for Colorado.

Here is my favorite band, Grizzly Bear, with my favorite song about Colorado (sorry John Denver)

Have I told you how much I love Grizzly Bear? I will tell you more someday…

Fall has finally fallen.

Apparently all at once in Alamo:

Winter is here.

And I want to be snowboarding.

Oh F.

You want me to let you in on a little secret? One that I am beginning to realize is true, every time, my whole life….?

And no, it’s not “The Secret”, like that bogus marketing ploy. But the real life secret, the one that a friend reminded me of, not so long ago.  He said “Will you do me a favor?” I replied “No, I will not photograph your wedding for free.”

“Oh, sorry, what then?”

He told me to ask the universe for what it was that I really truly wanted. To do it tonight, before I fell asleep, to just throw it out there, to the Cosmos, Carl Sagan style. And not necessarily to God or whoever, whatever (because I am not really a religious type) but to focus on that desire and let the universe figure out how it is supposed to work for you.

So I did.

And by golly geez it worked! Or is starting to work.

Just as I am beginning to regret the recent life decisions I made and starting to doubt my skill as a photographer, I am thrown a fastball–right to my gut.  One that makes me want to vomit at that fact that I had those hesitations in the first place. And I am not surprised, as I am constantly second guessing anything that I ever do, have done.

Which is really getting exhausting at this point.

This fastball.  It starts with the network I am beginning to build in this town.  The reason I got this job at Trader Joe’s was to meet people.  And turns out, even in the bubble of a place where people wear their sunglasses inside, there is always someone who knows someone else, who will be beneficial for you, me.

My weekend started with a holiday party at a photographer’s studio in Oakland, who was very inspiring and had a lovely little live-in, studio set-up.   The weekend ended with attending a free seminar on how to shoot a Boudoir session, complete with an introduction to a huge web of fellow East Bay photographers.  And what makes it even better, is that all of the people I have encountered are genuine and encouraging. YES!

Check out my new friend Jennifer Skog [Skog as in Vogue] who gave the talk about this newish photog niche. She has a pretty great stylist sister as well!

And yes, Boudoir means bedroom, and that is exactly what kind of sessions they are… but (as Pencey so tastefully put it) “no bush”.

If you would have told me on Friday morning that by Wednesday of next week, you will have a new drive and direction for your photography business– I would have said you can eat it, and the horse you came in on.

I have had many other encounters that have terrifically helped me mold the motivation that I need. But I won’t bore you with every detail; just know that is has been eerie and timely.

So apparently, I am supposed to be a photographer.

NEAT.

As you can probably imagine, I was quite elated after the seminar. So I bought a delightful bottle of Pinot Noir (Mia’s Playground 2007, Russian River Valley-in case you were wondering) some Dark Chocolate with Lemon-Pepper to pair. And then some Fashion Mags for inspiration: Vogue, Nylon and the local Diablo, and East Bay Kids. And that’s apparently what makes me most happy. Drinking wine, alone, with some magazines.

———-

Furthermore, I went back to that place I told you of before, on the top the mountain (hill). And took some shots, at sunset. Since I was merely equipped with my iPod before.

And in furthering my love on trees, they are also symbolic of a network.  The network of people I hope to create out here, like the ones that I am lured back to in Colorado.

That's some Alamo.

So I say, bring it rain, bring it on… DEPRESSION vs UNIVERSE… Who’s it gonna be?

A song about rain, RAIN ON! Mutherfucker,

Rain On. By Woods.

Tonight, please ask the universe for what you want.

(She’s pretty cool about it)

(family)TREEs

It’s raining. The type of rain that you want to sit in silence with, fall asleep to.  I am enjoying every second of this cleansing rain. Instead of wine tonight I just guzzled some soothing and slightly metallic tasting Theraflu. I AM NOT GOING TO GET SICK. Not again.

Regardless of how I am feeling tonight, I want to talk about yesterday. The day when I planned on writing this first real entry.  I want to talk living with my parents and how I have begun to firmly realize just how important they are to me.

I came to this realization when I went for a run (the first in a few months) and discovered that Revolver is an amazing album to listen to while running.  I usually choose something more along the beat of J Dilla or The Black Keys, but for some reason, I needed some Beatles.  And this usually happens about once a month, needing to divulge some of the Beatles.  Their music comforts me.  Kind of like watching an old episode of the Simpsons, I grew up on it.

Listen to this track, I know you have heard it before, but try it with headphones, and tell me that you don’t just want to sit on top of a mountain.

[ This could also be my theme song ]

And that is what I did, I ran to the top of the nearest mountain, which happened to be Mount Diablo, yes, that’s right, Mount Devil. Ironically, my parents’ old house in Castle Rock used to have a view of Devil’s Head Mountain.  I found a great grassy trail amidst a neighborhood street.

The trees in east bay are amazing.  Now I am not speaking of the redwoods (big ones) that I tend to hug on, but these beauties:

So I stopped the jog I had going and began to take in my surroundings.  It was magnificent, this place I live in is reminiscent of places I have been in Western Europe.  Like the backcountry of Wiliton, England, my mother’s birthplace.  Rolling hills draped in a hazy fog with the sun seeping through.  Oh how I do love my mother, I told myself.

Quite recently I learned that two of my friends had un-expectantly lost their mothers in the last months.  What an utterly horrible occurrence for someone at this age, or any age for that matter, to lose a parent.  And if you have spoken with me since I have been back living with parents, you know how much I loathe it.  But I was reminded of how precious life is and how special it is that I have both of my parents alive, and still married to each other.

And I won’t begin to explain how amazing mine and my sister’s relationship has blossomed since I left. She’s a pretty great kid, I mean, young lady.

Revolver was over I wanted some mellow music,  the Avett Bros and here is a tune I thought was appropriate:

Looking at these trees, I mulled over why it is that trees intrigue me so much?  I always want to photograph them, paint them, sketch them and sit under them.  Which made me think about family trees, the importance of family, the reason I decided to move in with my parents in the first place.  For support, like a strong rooted tree, I would like to believe that I have a fairly strong rooted family.  I am also now living very near my aunt, who lives in the next town over.  It is wonderful, to live near a family member… this is a new concept.   We (the Franz’s) have always surrounded ourselves with friends, and made them our family since most of ours had usually been across the country and across the big pond.

After going through a relationship break up and a job that was killing my spirit, I needed support and a change of place. All of this with the intention to find out what it was I really wanted to do with my life.

Of course I started this new life near San Francisco mildy depressed and stuck in my room.  Avoiding my parents like the 15 year old I once was… only my hair was not blue and I was listening to Bon Iver instead of the Decendents. My parents were well aware of my actions and finally my dad came to me and said “Listen, don’t you think it’s time to start doing something with that talent of yours?” I replied,  “What? Sleeping in?”

He reminded me that as much as I have a LoveHate relationship with this place, I should take advantage of the fact that these Suburban East Bay Californians have money to burn on portraits. He was oh so right. I needed to stop hating on the fact that all these people had so much money, and start loving on it.  As much as I get agitated by the constant reminders of…did you get your website finished? Business cards made? Did you go to all the Starbucks’ and post a flyer yet? I also really appreciate the shove they give me, because I know I need it, and it is out of love and they want to see me succeed.

I try to forget the fact that my time in the bathroom can be interrupted at any moment and that I will be woken up for sleeping in too late. I try to remember that the wake up call usually comes with a steaming cup of coffee and the fridge is always full.

They are my biggest fans, and we are all going through a rough change and all in a new place. They drive me insane, but I love them for it, it keeps my mundane life that much more interesting. We are planting a new strong rooted tree, here, together.

If you can, please call your mom today and tell her that you love her.

Mak finally attacks!

Okay. It’s here. I have done it.  I am now an open book (well, sort of).

Today I feel like a black and white horse. Please enjoy my current favorite tune.

["Zebra" -Beach House]

Beach House at the Palladium in LA (October 17th)

It is a very intimidating matter, to blog. Even the action of blogging sounds so silly, who came up with that label?… reminds me of “puking”.   Anyhow, a lot of people do it and I don’t know why I have made a big deal over it. I suppose I am realizing what a closed-off person I truly am and I have made a promise to be more open with my thoughts and feelings. And what is a better way to be more thought-probed then this? I would like to attribute it to a fellow (and beautifully talented) photographer, Sara for showing me that a certain intimate expression of yourself is very intriguing. As well as, and most importantly, the current world traveler (and ET/WW friend) James Hamigon. Whose insight continues to inspire.

In case you were wondering…
I, Michaela Joy Franz, age 25, has recently moved to the west coast. Now residing in a modest bungalow with my parents, on a horse ranch, and we all share one bathroom.   Perhaps you are shrugging your shoulders and screwing your brow with an  “eh, what gives? grow up! deal with it…”  which is why I believe my current state to be a commonplace among many of those around me.

I am also trying to live presently.

As well as photographing the beauty of NorCal.

I am enduring a full fledged “quarter life crisis”… therein lies most of the grapple around my forthcoming chatter. Take it or leave it.

(and you know there will also be wine involved)

I hug trees, big ones.