Let me show you my latest mistake! Wait for it. . . wait. . . .
That's it. Another glass plate with all the warts. It is dirty. I have trouble getting them clean (as I do everything else). I will have to rewash it and try to get the water spots off. I'm not sure, but I think there are some scratches in the emulsion, too. No. . . I'm sure. And WTF is up with the focus? This has been a problem with the Liberator all along. Sometimes things are in focus but too often they are not. Now I think it may be the film back. Maybe the film holders are sometimes not situated right inside it. That is my most recent thinking now, anyway. I am going to shoot a bunch of film through it to check that out. Shooting these glass plates is way too expensive. I need some R&D money if I am going to keep doing this.
Still, it has a quality, doesn't it?
I was at my mother's house to fix dinner. I asked her if she saw the photo I sent her.
"I can't do anything with the computer. It won't let me see anything."
"What do you mean?"
"All my pictures are gone. They're just gone. All that's on there are your pictures."
"Yes, pictures of you and Ili and pictures of you in the hospital."
WTF? I looked on her computer but didn't see any pictures. Then she opened Photos. All the pictures on my iPhone were there. I panicked. Holy shit!!!! I started scrolling through real quick. What did she see? What did she see?
"How in the fuck did these get on there?"
"I don't know, but mine are all gone. I can't get into FaceBook. It keeps asking me for my password. It never asked me that before."
I am not sure what happened with my mother's computer. I thought maybe the OS updated, but I am not sure. I deleted all my photos from her computer. Then we began trying to get into her apps. I have told my mother that passwords are like bank account numbers. You have to have them to get in. She has written them down now. Lots of them. In many different ways. Some have capital letters, some don't. Some have .s, some don't. They are approximate passwords, inconsistent. And she has many different ones for each account. Jesus Christ, Mother of God. . . my nerves were shot. I was losing my mind. I was getting shitty. Computers are not for old people. I am not buying my mother any more tech stuff until they come out with the Grandparent Series that only requires the user to click on giant buttons.
I had to change a lot of "forgotten" passwords. When I did, some of them said it looked like someone else had used the old ones. God knows what information she has given away. But much of her stuff is on my accounts. Now I'm terrified. How in the fuck did my photos end up on her computer? When will she start getting access to all my email and texts?
I am going to have to go change all my own stuff today. I need to figure out how to get Apple to stop uploading my pictures and documents to iCloud. I don't want any of my stuff in the cloud. I back up everything I want to keep on two external hard drives. I have not need nor want for them to have my stuff. God. . . I am getting too old for technology. I need the Grandparent Series.
I texted my maids to see if I could get back on the schedule. I had Fridays, but they want to put me on Tuesdays. Tuesdays?! I wrote back and asked how about Thursdays? I haven't heard back. Seems they have the hand. Since moving home, I have turned my house into what the Times refers to as "a squalid migrant camp." I try to clean. O.K. I don't try very hard. But when I do clean the kitchen, for instance, it never shines. It looks just like it did before I started. I'm not good at it. I need a maid.
Now I must get going. My days are not my own, but today is especially busy. Gym, shower, mother's therapy appointment, then. . . I get beautified! Somewhere in there I must eat. And when I get finished with the beautician, it will be nearly time for dinner. Fuck me. . . the days go by.
I'll make no photos today unless I use my phone. Maybe selfies when I am in foils and after, but that is all.
And now. . . [exeunt]. . . .