| Right then. |
[13 Jun 2007|05:48pm] |
Got to the car. Went to work. Came home. Didn't really notice anything different. Went down to the corner shop. Everyone's acting a bit funny; more pale and grunty than usual.
Jon's home. He keeps getting texts and calls from his friends. "Haven't got any, haven't got any." Mom called, asked us if we were all right? Jon and I looked outside.
Fuck! Zombies!
Right. So we came up with a plan:
Go get Eric (the sexy cyclist). Go to the Winchester 75th Street Brewery. Stay there until this all blows over.
Mom calls again. Dad's looking a bit paler.
Okay, new plan.
Go get Eric (sexy cyclist), go get mom and dad. Go to the pub. Everything blows over.
We thought it would work.
On the way to Eric's, ran into  happythermia and husband Dave. They've joined us on our mission, although Dave keeps whining about how none of this is going to work.
Picked up Mom and Dad (who's really looking a bit lethargic) but got into a car wreck on the way to the Winchester Brewery. Had to abandon the car. Dad started moaning and attacked Dave, so we had to abandon him, too.
We wound up walking the rest of the way to the pub. Had several close calls on the way. God, mom's eyes are really looking sunken today. Has anyone else noticed? Faked zombie-ness to get to the door.
The front doors of the Brewery were locked, and we were about to go round the back entrance when Dave panicked and broke the window. *sigh* What a cunt. We went in and managed to pull the Golden Tee game in front of the window, using high chairs and whatever else we could find to block the rest of the space.
Sat around for a bit. Ate some peanuts. Had a pint.
And then, it happened.
First, mom went. Had to bash her head in with a chair. Then our barricade broke, and Dave got sucked into the melee of zombies. They ripped his guts out. Poor bastard. Mia, in a fit of anger and vengeance, stormed outside to avenge Dave's death. Haven't seen her since. We fended them off well for a while, but then got cornered behind the bar. Jon poured a bottle of Jack on the bar and lit it to keep the zombies away. We found a trap door under the bar, and went into the basement. You know, in all the time I've worked here, I've never been to the basement.
Right before we went down there, my brother got bitten. "Leave me!" he said!
So we did. What else were we going to do?
In the basement, Eric kissed me. Amidst all the muck and grime from old kegs, he told me that he'd never really wanted the other girl in the first place; he was just trying to make me jealous. Even that didn't console me, as my plan to save my family and friends had obviously failed. Go to the pub? What the fuck was I thinking?
But then we hear them. The guns. A helicopter. Shouting. Three members of the United States Marines burst into the kitchen door and rush to the basement. Are we okay? Yes. They've brought us to Whiteman AFB, being the closest military base. Dunno what's going to happen now, but Eric's talking about how when this all blows over, we should get our own place. Maybe use Jon and some of the other zombies as cheap labor?
I hope everyone else has stayed safe.
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| Not that it matters . . . |
[19 Jun 2006|05:00pm] |
But sometimes I get bored and go poking around LJ to see if people I used to know are still alive and kicking . . .
And today I come upon this bullshit.
You know . . . I took that class because I thought it would be fun. I look and see that even a couple years after said class, I'm still being made fun of and . . . I'm not even hurt. It became pretty fucking obvious that I wasn't wanted around, so I stopped going. Hung out with adamgreeney a few times, but nothing ever came of it.
And as for my photos of me in makeup . . . I look back on them now, and yeah. They were pretty funny, and they weren't that good. That's why I went to school for it. I'm still not exactly Queen of the Makeup Artists, but damned if I don't know the entire process for making up aliens, demons and all those other creatures you see on film; and damned if I didn't have a modeling agency who, if they were a larger business and could afford the process of getting me a work visa, would gladly hire me on as their permanent MA.
Oh, and in case anyone needs reminding: Carla from class is responsible for the explosion of color on my face off to the left side. Not me.
It just kind of astounds me that AJ, who I thought was a pretty nice guy, would still be so interested in making fun of me nearly 2 years after this class. I guess some people never let go?
In other news, tomorrow is the deadline for our exhibition presentations. And then this course is over, and I return to KC (hopefully not for too long) to begin my makeup artistry career.
My health and sanity plans are as follows: Attend as many events with KC Poets, U-LIT and the Jazzhaus crew as possible. Bike twice a week with dad, yoga twice a week (at least once a week with dad).
I've only been on the forums for KC Poets for a day, and already I'm being welcomed. Woohoo!
And for those of you who have been interested, under the cut there are some photos of my more recent makeup work.
Useful knowledge here: bittertwist, mind explaining how you do your watermarks on photos? The ones that say your name and all?
( Reaching out to embrace whatever may comeCollapse )
Hopefully I've satisfied some of your curiosities . . .
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[31 Mar 2006|09:10pm] |
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*********EDIT**********
I didn't cut anyone; I just don't want certain people reading this thing.
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| I want to hit something. |
[15 Oct 2005|01:08pm] |
But I keep telling myself that I'm not allowed to do that anymore. I am not allowed to punch inanimate objects, thus fracturing bits of my hands. I am not allowed to hit myself in the head with the door.
*sigh* Maybe I need to find that piercing place in Camden again and get something else done. That's enjoyable self-injury.
Instead, here are some photos of my work so far. Soon to come: photos of Charlotte looking like an evil old man with a huge nose.
( What I've been doing the past few weeksCollapse )
There'll be photos of the fashiony Brigitte Bardot/Twiggy look and photos of Charlotte wearing the prosthetic I made as soon as I can be bothered to upload them.
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| Upset. |
[08 Oct 2005|02:00pm] |
I keep going over and over Kielle's death in my head and it still doesn't make sense.
I've had this poem stuck in my head, and I can't remember the whole thing, but it's by Staceyann Chin and Black Ice. There's a line in it that goes, "When a man of the people dies, the skies open up to receive him."
When Kielle died, the skies in London did not really open up. In fact, it was sunny. farli and I went to visit the Tower of London in her honor. farli told me not to think that the skies should open up, but rather that it was Kielle's light shining down on us. Still, I can't help feeling that some other drastic sign should have signified her death. She was my mentor. The first fanfic I ever read was by her. It was because of her that I even approached writing stories in general, not just fanfic.
I hate that smolder's car broke down when he was supposed to drive me up to Orange County to meet her.
I don't really have much else to say on that topic.
_______________
In other news . . . well, there is no other news, other than I am very, very angry today, for a lot of reasons that aren't going to be mentioned here; so if you want to know, my IM is GoodOmensAngel and I'm probably not going out tonight.
jesterson needs to be more specific on when he's coming to Watford. I'm hoping for a weekend, because I need some clubbing. And you'd be just the person to go with.
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| Freezin' ass vacation station . . . |
[03 Oct 2005|08:15pm] |
So I have booked my plane tickets to Amsterdam for the weekend of Nov. 25-27. Seanius will be booking his tickets later tonight, and his girlfriend is not coming.
Jessup will probably be coming, along with his friend AJ. I've been too nice to Jessup lately, and I think he might think I'm interested again, which is so ragingly far from the truth . . .
School has been going well. We covered facial hair last week. I accidentally burned the moustache I made. My instructor, Richard, did as well. The other instructor, Sarah, laughed at us both.
Sarah and Richard actually work on some pretty cool stuff. Sarah made Gimli's beard in Lord of the Rings, worked on Kingdom of Heaven (apparently, Orlando can only grow so much facial hair), one of the recent Bond flicks. . . Richard does a lot of theatre, but worked on the movie version of The Phantom of the Opera (including that 4-foot wig of Minnie Driver's. She complained that it was too heavy, and Richard said, "Well, it's four feet of hair, what did you expect?")
This week we are doing fashion makeup. Our instructor is Pascal Marin, who's worked on many a cool fashion show and shoot, is very French and has a tendency to poke too hard at your face with his fingers (I learned that the hard way when I volunteered to be today's model). He's also very repetitive. "You tap, and then you apply the colour, and blend, blend, blend. Then you get more powder, tap tap, apply it to the eyelid, and blend, blend, blend. . ."
He says blend like it ends in "duh." Blenduh. A very short "duh."
I should probably go downstairs and be social. The housemates have lost "the power" (our remote control) and I'm sure it will be chaos without it.
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| Fuck . . . |
[23 Sep 2005|08:56am] |
I just . . . have no words right now.
Kielle. My writing icon. Fanfic hero. Someone I almost met but didn't due to car trouble. And now I never will . . .
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| Animated icons |
[10 Sep 2005|01:45am] |
Can anyone out there make me an animated icon that looks like the following, with the text I have provided?
First frame: "To never die"
Second frame: "and to conquer all --"
Third frame: "that is winning."
Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?
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| *punches wall* |
[23 Aug 2005|11:35am] |
Fuck. FUCK FUCK FUCK.
I knew that had been too easy.
FUCK.
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| Argh! |
[11 Aug 2005|01:08pm] |
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Signing off AIM when I'm trying to get some plotting assistance does not help get fic written any faster, skellingtonjon!
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| For continuity purposes . . . |
[08 Aug 2005|04:15pm] |
... and in case anyone was wondering about the other half of the fic ...
As-of-yet untitled fic project
By yonaelka and skellingtonjon
Rating: Dunno, we'll see where this goes.
Concept: TCP belongs to Kielle and Phil. AintIGreat blatantly ripped off of Hotornot concept.
Disclaimer: Um. Here's hoping that if Hotornot sees it, they understand that AintIGreat is a parody and therefore we are fully within our rights.
( The unfinishedness that is this ficCollapse )
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| More fic. |
[03 Aug 2005|04:39pm] |
Author’s notes: Okay, for those of you who haven’t been paying attention, part 6 is up on skellingtonjon’s journal. Also, La Prima Tazza is a coffee shop in Lawrence, KS. I don’t know coffee shops in London, but I will have to find some, as I am adamantly anti-Starbucks.
( KMFDM is a drug against warCollapse )
I promised this to skellingtonjon by the time he woke up today. Which was hours ago. I suck, but hopefully, this makes your day a bit better? You can write your angst over the stupid bastards at the job place into your next installment!
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| Ganked from John. |
[22 Jul 2005|11:16am] |
Casting Call
I think it's inevitable that as we read each other's journals
we create mental pictures of each other. Post this on your own journal
to find out who your friends see when they read about your life.
Two Rules:
1.
The person must be in the movies or on TV (but doesn't have to be an
actor/actress). The person can be specific to a role (e.g. Jennifer
Elhe's Elizabeth Bennett) or just the person themself.
2. You have to post a link to a picture of said person in the comments.
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| Bored at work. |
[01 Jul 2005|04:13pm] |
| [ |
mood |
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 creative |
] |
Okay, skellingtonjon, remember how we were going to do that fic together, apparently back in 2003? Well, I stumbled upon one of the e-mails that we'd exchanged on the subject, and plotbunnies were born. So I am posting the first half. You put up the next section. That is your challenge. And I'd like to see it posted by the end of next week or sooner. It seems to be a TCP, I think.
( OMGWTFBBQandvariousotheracronyms, Yona's written a fic!Collapse )
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