Most of today I have spent alone, since John went out to PA to see Zak and work on the website for his iPod program. A great idea, I think; Zak has some pretty creative designs. So left to my own devices I was surprisingly productive. There was the dry cleaning, the grocery store, cleaning the apartment... It was my intention all day to go to the gym too. I almost didn't make it, but at about 20 to 6 I forced myself out the door, and I'm glad because I feel great.

There's this machine I use at the gym - this thing where you lift yourself up sort of like chin-ups, but there's something supporting part of your weight so weaklings like me can actually accomplish something. I hadn't used it in a couple weeks, so like an ass I tried climing onto the thing the wrong way (the pad you kneel on was folded up). Some very nice woman came over and pointed out the obvious for me. Had I pursued the climb I was attempting, there is a good chance I could have knocked the whole apparatus over, impaling myself on a rubber-ended hand bar. What a way to go.

When I got home, I blissfully ordered some vegetable rolls, and set about doing some household chores while I waited for the food to arive. Usually that stuff makes me want to rip my hair out, but I think the workout left me feeling good. When dinner arrived, I sat down to watch Imagine, the documentary about John Lennon. Although I have been a Beatles fan since I was a kid, I half expected to turn it off about half way through, but I didn't. It was great. What an interesting, flawed, vulnerable guy. Of course the documentary covers his death, and after learning so much about him I found myself crying. Just seeing all the people mourning in the streets made me cry because it really seemed like the message he wanted to get across had been received. I mean his quest for peace... People really seemed to get it and want to honor it and him. I wish it had caught fire like he probably hoped it would.

When the credits came on, the song playing in the background was In My Life, which has always been for me sort of a less interesting Beatles song. But when my grandfather died in January, I made this DVD with photos of him and I put that song on it, so I think now I'll always associate it with him. Well I immediately started bawling. I wasn't even thinking about my grandfather, so it was a little confusing for me at first. When I made the connection, it just brought everything out. Once in a while, since his funeral, I am surprised by how raw the pain still is, despite the fact that I keep it deep in my pocket most of the time. The death of a family member, especially someone like him, makes this uncomplicated and steady pain that can be brought up at any time.

The other thing I did today is learn a little bit more about my Nikon D50. I learned how to control the flash, finally, and I had so much fun shooting stuff around the house, particularly the cat, who is no longer stuck in the flashed-out-eyes rut. Look at some of my photos. Next time I'll shoot people, I promise, but I was in isolation today, so work with me.