This was totally unexpected. Thanks, parents!
I’ve decided to migrate indoors for the season. St. Louis’ main shooting range is a place called Bulleye’s– it’s not as neat as the outdoor one, but they literally are their own competition, and offer a pretty good selection of rentals/reasonably priced ammunition.
One thing that struck me as odd about this place is that you have to “prove” you are an “experienced” shooter before they let you move the target behind the 7-yard-line; this involved hitting 10/10 shots in the bull’s eye at 7-yards, which seemed like a pretty arbitrary (and ridiculous) trial. However, still inflated by the “Annie Oakley” nickname my safety instructor awarded me, I offered to “prove” my experience, and passed, and to be perfectly honest, the look on the poor owner’s face was so much more fulfilling than moving my target back to 15-yards. (Yes: women can shoot well, too.)
As per the target, it looks like I’m still struggling with anticipating the recoil in the higher calibers. I’m not sure how to solve that, besides more range visits. But I’m pretty proud–my accuracy/grouping isn’t that terrible at 15-yards, for someone on their third range date. I’ll improve with practice.
A friend and I got together and cooked some delicious dishes from Einat Admony’s cookbook, Balaboosta.
I feel like, in so many ways, this photograph is a work of fine art, epitomizing the experience of the poor graduate student seeking to recreate, within the confines of her small, kitchy apartment, a semblance of poshness: the mobster minion at far left, the stoic cat, the naked-people-making-out-statue from the 1970s, the cow, juxtaposed against wine, lamb chops, and a copious amount of brussel sprouts, (off season, and thus expensive); the young woman’s devilish face, obscured by the word BUFFET, is a poignant commentary on the human cost of excess. Altogether this photograph forces the viewer to consider by what means and in what ways intersections of social status and cultural status influence our leisure time.
Thanks again, Tent, for funding some Jewish maddness!
My mother wasn’t able to afford her senior portrait when she graduated from high school in 1968. I recently located a copy of her yearbook online and found this same portrait, which she hadn’t seen in over forty-five years. Unfortunately, because it’s a scanned document, the resolution wasn’t high enough to blow up into a larger print. This is where an internet stranger came to the rescue, and rendered the portrait into a beautiful piece of artwork.
I truly have no idea whose this person’s true identity is, I only know that she is extremely generous and talented, but I thought the very least I could do would be to plug her online gallery.