Because The Next Post Will Also Have To Do With Someone's Birth, And I Don't Care How Well One Writes A Birthday Post, An Entire Month Of Them Is Just Too Much. So We'll Talk About Bricks Instead.

Because bricks are quite handy. You can throw them at thy foes, you can trip over them, breaking your big toe and getting to use the crutches that you've always thought everyone looked so cool using, and all you have to suffer through is some armpit chaffing. Also, a broken big toe. You can deliver that crucial memo from the 14th story of your office building to the 3rd story of your office building with lightening-fast efficiency by using nothing more than a $0.002 rubber band and any old brick you find laying around. Or kill your boss. Either way, you'll be in line for a promotion.

I like bricks. More specifically, I liked aesthetically pleasing configurations of bricks. Did you know that I once had an aptitude for and a very promising career rut carved out for me in mechanical engineering? True story. You wouldn't believe what I could do with a ruler. In fact, if I had enough balls to go digging through my storage closet that is most likely, by now, host to 3 out of 5 of Canada's most deadly spiders, also my Christmas decorations, I'd be able to find a stack of old blueprints with, like, 1990 written in the date. And drawn in pencil. *gasp* See, back in the stone ages when I was dipping my pen in the blueprint ink, people still used drafting tables and mechanical pencils and T-squares. Now there are twenty four versions of Autocad out there. I once bought Autocad for Dummies, thinking it might be fun to try my hand at it again, and I couldn't understand the acknowledgments page of the book.

You know, it's kind of messed up that the very same people who can doodle out an entire city, or an aircraft, or a satellite in their spare time can't think of a way to make the lead in mechanical pencils stronger than a dried spaghetti stick.

An then I married an Ivy League architecture major and we've been happily employed in the restaurant industry ever since. At least my wasted education was free.

But we do both find ourselves drawn to the linear. The only pictures we have hanging in our living room are of houses, or parts of them. My bathroom has a big ass schematic of the Brooklyn Bridge hanging in it. All of the furniture is square and all of the frames are level. We're sort of neurotically straight, actually. The clutter all over every square inch of our lives offsets it nicely, though.

I also find myself, on occasion, taking pictures of buildings. I'm normally a portrait sort of girl; I wouldn't take a picture of grass or water drops unless there was someone in it. Every know and then, however, I find some building that strikes my fancy and I can't help myself but shoot it. Like in Mexico, when I found a cathedral with this entrance.

The Irony Gates

I actually love the fact that there's a big, fat thumb smudge right in the middle of that picture, so shut up. There's this building that I stumbled across in Chicago this summer.


Pretty freaking cool, isn't it? There's this shot of the Chinese Gardens in downtown Vancouver, and I love it because I can't decide if it's the very essence of serene or if it's the fucking creepiest sort of "crawling out of these trees to get you" picture.

Chinese Gardens

Either way, I'll take it. My neighbor Anjou took this one in Cairo, but it's all rights reserved so if you want to see it, you'll have to click. It's totally worth it.

And this one I love, I love so much, because if there's anything I appreciate more than gorgeous detail, it's religious irony.

Thou Shall Ignore The Commandments Thou Doest Not Agree With

But holy crap is that every gorgeous. Even if it is in abject defiance of the second commandment.