Slow Down, Babe. Enjoy Those Boots. Enjoy The Madness.

It's very weird to barely have any concept of time and to not know what weekends are. That said, it's perfectly fine to assume that I've been living in building 7B. On my heels 24/7. Workaholic galore. They should just grant me a cot to stay in the studios.
Anyway...outtake(ish) of the day:

The wig and the head belongs to Jess. I think that body on the right belongs to me. I'm not really sure anymore.

Just a few quick things before I decide to post:

-I hate fire alarms. It has gotten to the point that I now have a routine before I waltz out of 7B. First, I get a cup from the office and fill it with hot water. I then take my sweet time considering what tea I should have. I grab my bag while simultaneously singing "Karma Chameleon". I then strut down the stairs while balancing 10 invisible over-sized books over my head.

-If I haven't made it clear before, I'll say it again: rugged jean short shorts and tights/stockings are an eyesore. I don't care if it's the latest trend. The look is just as ugly as Ugg boots and puffed out snow boots. Also, mind the crotch, ladies. Having double the crap material by that region is just uncomfortable. Guaranteed.

-You're more than likely to fail if you can't keep up with everyone else. And you're more than likely to still fail if you look and act like everyone else.

-I love people. Some of them.

-Since when was looking like a hobo trendy? Fucking overly exaggerated failed-art-students and bastard-child-of-art students. Ugh.

-I can't stand college creepers. No, you're not allowed to be excited when the people you stalk are right by you. Stop drooling. It's socially awkward.

Hmm I'm done. Power to bitching and becoming a bigger bitch.

This is called the 14-hour-day-tired face.


~~~