It's been about a week since I got back to the States from England, and, quite honestly, I wasn't too excited about being back in America. I was just getting used to the British feel for life. I was even beginning to look left first, instead of right, when crossing a street. The little things about England were becoming attached to me, but it was time to let all that go. I know we'll be back soon, and probably for a longer time period.
Two days after we arrived from across the pond, we began our photo shoot session of two, long days. Generally, photo shoots can be fun, but they are a lot of work, that is, if you want to be inventive and creative. The band and a small group of friends, including my wife, do the preparation and styling. This pre-photo shoot stage is probably the most difficult and annoying of the whole process. Picking out clothes in-and-of-itself is time consuming and sometimes frustrating. However, I try not to let it get me down, but have fun with it all. Hell, all this beats working at Sherwin-Williams, a job which I briefly obtained during my college years.
During this arduous process of taking clothes on and off repeatedly, I think is when I began to feel sick. Was the drastic change in temperatures from a freezing house to a muggy outside while wearing an old vintage, mod sweater from London? I don't know. My wife believes I picked up a very posh virus from England, the kind that makes you cough elegantly and sweat with class. If I did contract somekind of virus overseas, it was truly dormant until the day after the photo shoot because that is when I woke up wishing that some executioner place my head in a guillotine.
Even as I write, I am still not up to par, but nevertheless, I do feel rather stylish . . .