Something Under The Bed Is Drooling.

Oye... I definitely got high off of lacquer today. Note to self: do not use lacquer in small, contained spaces where you sleep and spend 22 hours of your day. My brain cells are dropping like flies. But at least some good came out of it. The other evening I took all the ticket stubs that I've accumulated over the years down from my wall. After that, I had a pile of stubs and a respective pile of thumb tacks. Well, what does one do with a butt load of ticket stubs one has accumulated over the years? Why, one makes a collage, that's what one does! Two puts them into a scrapbook, and three just eats them. And did you hear the recent scandal that seven eight nine?

Result:


The crappy camera and lacquer (again with you, lacquer!) are a major impediment to taking pictures of the thing, so it's difficult to see the ship, mast, flag, person waving goodbye to Les Mis chick, sun... and just about everything going on in the collage. But you know it's there. How do you know? Because of the power of art. *Five For Fighting begins playing as the image of a sunset appears...*

"Actually because you just told us what was in it. Honestly, J-Mil, you shouldn't blame a camera or lighting for your inability to make clear, concise images."

So that was my day. OH! And being assaulted by a massive black spider in the middle of the afternoon. Here I am, just making a collage, and all of a sudden a HUGE spider with an abdomen the girth of my ring finger makes a vendetta toward my binder. I flip out and try to call for help... but nobody can hear me.


Scared stupid.

I search around the room for something to defend myself, and select a particularly long paint brush. I look back down at my binder... but the spider is gone. This is bad. This is really bad. No way in HELL am I getting any shut eye tonight if that thing is lurking somewhere in my room. I cautiously poke my binder with the brush, and the thing scuttles out of the abyss and starts crawling toward the other end of my room! At this point I am screaming and talking to myself. I need something to contain the spider, but I can't find anything. In an act of desperation, I pick up an old paperback copy of 'Godzilla' I found under my bed the other day and drop it on top of the spider. I know this is enough to contain it, but not enough to kill it. I run inside and ask for help, and my dad comes and kills the spider. Thuh end.

...I could have DIED.

I got a new cell phone today... a Verizon Rival. It's a pretty sweet phone, and more importantly, not a Razr. It tells you where the area code is from on an unidentified number; how cool is that?!