Today I met someone I didn't know existed; my work-buddy's identical twin brother. He came in for a visit and I stared in disbelief while my brain tried to figure out what was going on. It was like one of those lame split-screen movies where one actor plays both twins, only in REAL LIFE. They even talked the same. I can't adequately explain how cosmic this was for me, partly because I'm still hopped up on tylenol and don't know for sure if it actually happened. But it was pretty cosmic.
Also, I learned from the radio that crazy film editors created a perfect digital tear and edited it onto Jennifer Connolly's face for the pivotal scene in Blood Diamond.
Just think about that for a second.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Tuesday, March 6, 2007
Gall
Wow, it's been a while. Not much has happened between February 9th and now, just thought I'd let y'all know I'm still alive.
So...I've quit Summerstock The Rita Way: not showing up until everyone just assumes I've gone for good. I got an email today about my "resignation" and it made me terribly sad for one reason or another. I wish I could be more decisive. If I'd told Jim straight out that I was quitting, it wouldn't be so bad. But this way it feels involuntary, like I've let something good slip away from me and I didn't try hard enough to hold onto it. Or something. I think these weeks of isolating myself in a dark cement room are beginning to turn me into a real brooding art student. I've been letting go of my commitments, I forget the plans I make, I don't make an effort to see my friends or talk to people at school--all that matters is my art.
I've been pretty bummed out these days, so I'm sorry if I'm sounding a little depressive. My favourite person at work is having surgery done, and most likely won't be back once she recovers. My other favourite person will be going on sick leave, then maternity leave, pretty soon, so I probably won't be seeing her for a while either. There are no good shows on tv. I will never move out of this house. Crap.
I wanna go on a road trip to San Francisco.
So...I've quit Summerstock The Rita Way: not showing up until everyone just assumes I've gone for good. I got an email today about my "resignation" and it made me terribly sad for one reason or another. I wish I could be more decisive. If I'd told Jim straight out that I was quitting, it wouldn't be so bad. But this way it feels involuntary, like I've let something good slip away from me and I didn't try hard enough to hold onto it. Or something. I think these weeks of isolating myself in a dark cement room are beginning to turn me into a real brooding art student. I've been letting go of my commitments, I forget the plans I make, I don't make an effort to see my friends or talk to people at school--all that matters is my art.
I've been pretty bummed out these days, so I'm sorry if I'm sounding a little depressive. My favourite person at work is having surgery done, and most likely won't be back once she recovers. My other favourite person will be going on sick leave, then maternity leave, pretty soon, so I probably won't be seeing her for a while either. There are no good shows on tv. I will never move out of this house. Crap.
I wanna go on a road trip to San Francisco.
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