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09.22.2002 || 15h24 Party yesterday, hard at work to-day Well, I've been onset since about 8h30. The set is a tech office in Old Montr�al. Multimedia, I think. Anyway, they turned off the A/C because the mikes were picking it up, so it's really, *really* hot in here. I'm wearing a shirt & tie and a waistcoat. What I'm getting at here is that I'm sweating like a fat bitch in a sauna. I've got my hair slicked down into a corpo-whore do, and I'm wearing slacks. *Slacks,* fer fuksakes! It's the last day of shooting though, so I won't have to do this for much longer *and* I can grow my sideburns back. Um, that's a 'Huzzah!' issue, BTW. Another Huzzah issue is the fact that the Origamist, Mystie and I went partying with Monstre yesternight. The crowd was the same weird mix of witches and computer geeks as always. I didn't warn Mystie about the Pagan aspect before going because I wasn't sure how uncomfortable it would make her. There is a possibility that I'm not giving her midwestern self enough credit, of course... Anyway, it didn't turn out as bad as I thought it might. We actually had some fun, aided in part by the flowing booze and the fact that we were standing in an exclusive little group and giggling all night. However, I had to be out and about this morning, so we left pretty early. At about a quarter to 7 this morning, I got a message that Mystie had to be at work for 9. As I mentioned before, she's a pissy beast in the mornings, unless she can drift out of sleep over the course of about two kisses-and-licks-filled hours, so it was with a certain sense of foreboding that I gently shook her awake this morning. I got out of the house as quickly as I could. Later You know, I've been wondering about something lately. I love clear skin and a toned tummy. I live in a city where that has become the new female uniform (although there seems to be an extremely high number of chicks who exhibit the uglier side of that coin: the nightmarish look of the zombies who just don't *eat*). Now, my girlfriend has neither of these (don't let the vegetarianism fool you. The sweetheart eats like a Yank), but I pretty nigh-on always find her to be the most beautiful woman in any room, no matter how many slinky Montr�alaises are in attendance. There's something magical about love that just sort of moves a whole load of different stuff into prominence and makes other things just fade out of focus. Don't get me wrong, I still look, but it's no longer with intent. I look the same way I look at beautiful boats or Land Rovers. 'Wow, that was beautiful. Okay, where can I get a tea around here?' Heh, I have a couple of friends who keep saying that they don't want a woman or a man because they don't want to give up their 'freedom.' I feel badly for them. It's worth it. In other news, while the Origamist and I were rollerblading home from doing some errands yesterday, a wasp stung me. No reason, no fucking cause. It just came up and stung me. I don't know which was stronger; the pain or my utter bewilderment. My finger still hurts a teeny bit to-day, reminding me that if I ever meet up with that fricking wasp again, it's in for a *serious* bitchslap.
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shite One last little note... - 09.21.2006 de-stressing, biking and terrorism - 06.06.2006 Mildly stressed... - 05.29.2006 More crime stupidity - 05.28.2006 Scary stuff - 05.25.2006
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