pushing the rope
Gah, I feel sick. Not in the I-have-a-cold sense of 
windelina, but more in the my-intestines-feel-like-they've-been-rot
Way too much to do. All the second-unit stuff is pretty much waiting on me, and I'm pushing the effects stuff as fast as I can. I have the latex layer poured for the first positive, and I should be able to do the first urethane layer tonight, and possibly the foam layer; essentially I should be able to pull the first positive tomorrow night if everything goes well.
Then comes the sculpting on that positive, then the casting of a new plaster mold, then the creation of the first prosthetic. And making a heart. Next week if I'm lucky.
Then the fitting and camera tests. And costuming.
Plus there's this whole "work" thing that sucks up a large part of my day. And the diet-and-exercise thing. And the paying bills thing, apparently one of which I have forgotten for a couple of months.
Then yeah, holidays. Great fucking time for the romantically disenfranchised. Get her a gift that shows you care this Christmas. I'll get her a gift that shows I care by NEVER FUCKING SHOPPING IN YOUR STORE AGAIN YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES!!!
Jeez. Sorry. Feeling a little testy today.
Load. Of. Crap.
No, this isn't shaping up to be the "best Christmas ever". It isn't shaping up to be much of a Christmas at all. Profound process of re-evaluation my ass. Nothing profound. Re-evaluation, sure, but mostly masturbatory.
Bah. Humbug.
(Note: any plans of visitation by the Spirits of Christmas-- you can go take a flying boo-fuck. I'm gonna be cranky, and unless you come to me dressed in hot sexy elf-chick wear, I'm not gonna fall for it.)
Of all the things that I wanted for Christmas, not a one is gonna happen. And no, not all of them were selfish or involved sexy elf chicks or hot tubs.
windelina, but more in the my-intestines-feel-like-they've-been-rotWay too much to do. All the second-unit stuff is pretty much waiting on me, and I'm pushing the effects stuff as fast as I can. I have the latex layer poured for the first positive, and I should be able to do the first urethane layer tonight, and possibly the foam layer; essentially I should be able to pull the first positive tomorrow night if everything goes well.
Then comes the sculpting on that positive, then the casting of a new plaster mold, then the creation of the first prosthetic. And making a heart. Next week if I'm lucky.
Then the fitting and camera tests. And costuming.
Plus there's this whole "work" thing that sucks up a large part of my day. And the diet-and-exercise thing. And the paying bills thing, apparently one of which I have forgotten for a couple of months.
Then yeah, holidays. Great fucking time for the romantically disenfranchised. Get her a gift that shows you care this Christmas. I'll get her a gift that shows I care by NEVER FUCKING SHOPPING IN YOUR STORE AGAIN YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES!!!
Jeez. Sorry. Feeling a little testy today.
At this time of year, a lot of people are on automatic pilot. They are doing what they always do. They are following well-trodden paths towards predictable destinations. Even if you seem to be doing much the same, there's more going on beneath the surface. You are going through a profound process of re-evaluation. Over the next few days, you will finally start to understand something that has always baffled you. That's just one reason why this may yet prove to be your best Christmas ever.
Load. Of. Crap.
No, this isn't shaping up to be the "best Christmas ever". It isn't shaping up to be much of a Christmas at all. Profound process of re-evaluation my ass. Nothing profound. Re-evaluation, sure, but mostly masturbatory.
Bah. Humbug.
(Note: any plans of visitation by the Spirits of Christmas-- you can go take a flying boo-fuck. I'm gonna be cranky, and unless you come to me dressed in hot sexy elf-chick wear, I'm not gonna fall for it.)
Of all the things that I wanted for Christmas, not a one is gonna happen. And no, not all of them were selfish or involved sexy elf chicks or hot tubs.