Thursday: Makeup Artist Extraordinaire, At Your Service
1. I'm still pissed about the whole journal deleting fiasco from yesterday, but my meeting finished a little early so hopefully I can re-write a bunch of it here.
2. Last night as I was on my way to boxing, I got a call from the infamous tmronin. Turns out that the hopeful with whom he was shooting later that evening was in desperate need of a makeup phenom, and that he'd halt the shoot until whenever I could get there. Though the thought of trekking out to the Lower East Side at 10p on a Wednesday wasn't exactly thrilling, Steve's my homeboy and I couldn't let him down. So I rushed home after getting my box on, threw a bunch of makeup in my backpack, jumped in the shower to wash off the stink, threw on some dirty laundry, grabbed Dan and tore ass to the R Train. Thirty minutes later I found myself in this little comic gallery, attacking a young lady's face while Dan and Steve bonded over (too many) beers. I was super happy with the finished product, and I made sure it looked good on film before I left, but I got out of there ASAP as our groceries were still sitting in boxes on the kitchen floor. Plus, I hadn't yet eaten and I was fucking WIPED. I'm glad I went, though - it was a great night.
3. So obviously I didn't have time to watch any television last night, but I looked up the vitals on the internet - at long last, goodbye Scott! It's about freakin' time. However, I'll say this - though Scott may have been a little painful to watch, he's vocally far superior to the joke that is Anthony (or 'Blowhole' as he's fondly referred to in my household). I can't wrap my head around his presence in the competition. He's horrific. Anyway, he should mos' DEF be outta there come next week - Bo, Carrie and Vonzell are all hecka talented. He's the odd one out.
4. Speaking of television, The Best Show EVER was out of CONTROL on Tuesday night. I swear I didn't breathe for the last couple minutes of the episode. And I'm at once super pissed and ultra excited that I have to wait two whole weeks for episode 409. Honestly, the best show I've ever seen.
Gah.
5. I've been trying to really buckle down on my nutrition and fitness regimen lately. Don't get me wrong, I'm definitely in shape and I eat healthier than anyone I know (that doesn't mean I don't eat, trust me), but there are a lot of little corners I haven't been cutting. For example, I often convince myself that three quarters of a package of Rolos is a perfectly acceptable midnight snack.
Bathing suit season is sooner than I think, and no matter how many pushups I can do, I'm still Jigglethigh McFlabbybelly... so it's about time I get my shit together.
*motivate*
Okie dokie, chitlins. I'm off to the races (read: fucking work).
Shadow of the Day: Dovefeather.
1. I'm still pissed about the whole journal deleting fiasco from yesterday, but my meeting finished a little early so hopefully I can re-write a bunch of it here.
2. Last night as I was on my way to boxing, I got a call from the infamous tmronin. Turns out that the hopeful with whom he was shooting later that evening was in desperate need of a makeup phenom, and that he'd halt the shoot until whenever I could get there. Though the thought of trekking out to the Lower East Side at 10p on a Wednesday wasn't exactly thrilling, Steve's my homeboy and I couldn't let him down. So I rushed home after getting my box on, threw a bunch of makeup in my backpack, jumped in the shower to wash off the stink, threw on some dirty laundry, grabbed Dan and tore ass to the R Train. Thirty minutes later I found myself in this little comic gallery, attacking a young lady's face while Dan and Steve bonded over (too many) beers. I was super happy with the finished product, and I made sure it looked good on film before I left, but I got out of there ASAP as our groceries were still sitting in boxes on the kitchen floor. Plus, I hadn't yet eaten and I was fucking WIPED. I'm glad I went, though - it was a great night.
3. So obviously I didn't have time to watch any television last night, but I looked up the vitals on the internet - at long last, goodbye Scott! It's about freakin' time. However, I'll say this - though Scott may have been a little painful to watch, he's vocally far superior to the joke that is Anthony (or 'Blowhole' as he's fondly referred to in my household). I can't wrap my head around his presence in the competition. He's horrific. Anyway, he should mos' DEF be outta there come next week - Bo, Carrie and Vonzell are all hecka talented. He's the odd one out.
4. Speaking of television, The Best Show EVER was out of CONTROL on Tuesday night. I swear I didn't breathe for the last couple minutes of the episode. And I'm at once super pissed and ultra excited that I have to wait two whole weeks for episode 409. Honestly, the best show I've ever seen.
Gah.
5. I've been trying to really buckle down on my nutrition and fitness regimen lately. Don't get me wrong, I'm definitely in shape and I eat healthier than anyone I know (that doesn't mean I don't eat, trust me), but there are a lot of little corners I haven't been cutting. For example, I often convince myself that three quarters of a package of Rolos is a perfectly acceptable midnight snack.
Bathing suit season is sooner than I think, and no matter how many pushups I can do, I'm still Jigglethigh McFlabbybelly... so it's about time I get my shit together.
*motivate*
Okie dokie, chitlins. I'm off to the races (read: fucking work).
Shadow of the Day: Dovefeather.
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-ape