I'm going to my old high school's play tomorrow night -- my sister just came home after doing the same technical and lighting crew stuff I did four, five, six years ago. Considering it's a stage adaptation of Run Lola Run, this may prove to be interesting -- but even if it isn't, I decided I didn't like the ticket I was given so I made my own.
I feel like a meat popsicle more than usual today. Sometimes, I get these surreal moments where I become entirely objectified from my body; I see it all the way through, like a really cheesy camera trick that shows accelerated blood pumping, muscle flexing and white bone. This generally happens when I've done little more than sit in a variety of uncomfortable chairs without much in the way of exercise in between, and having dinner out with my family tonight just pushed this popsicle over the edge.
I'm glad my family's accomodating; we may not be very communicative when I'm spaced out, but the heater in my room was on when I got home. That's understanding.
I feel like a meat popsicle more than usual today. Sometimes, I get these surreal moments where I become entirely objectified from my body; I see it all the way through, like a really cheesy camera trick that shows accelerated blood pumping, muscle flexing and white bone. This generally happens when I've done little more than sit in a variety of uncomfortable chairs without much in the way of exercise in between, and having dinner out with my family tonight just pushed this popsicle over the edge.
I'm glad my family's accomodating; we may not be very communicative when I'm spaced out, but the heater in my room was on when I got home. That's understanding.
