zustifer: (Beetlejuice: Delia looks significantly a)
Well, I'm up at the terrible end of the morning in the hopes that the movers will come and move our terrible possessions in their truck. I keep thinking of the shot in The Parent Trap where the camp matron opens the door of cabin Arapaho to find that the kids inside have been pranked with honey and string webbed all around and probably mud, too. The kids, in the middle of trying vainly to clean it all up, look up at the door, realise the futility of continuing, and allow the things they are carrying to slowly slip to the floor in defeat. The matron probably says something like 'well, I never.'
zustifer: (Dogtato and Boartato)
Aww, I got lunk by the triloblog for my little trilobite-walk.

I also made some rocking soup. The salient bits were thus: squished-with-potato-masher butternut squash and zucchini as a base, turkey kielbasa, and a bunch of rice.

And... the new Film Comment came (I accidentally left it sitting in the mailslot all day yesterday, when I could have been READING IT), and I sold some shoes on ebay, and the weather continues to get colder, which makes me ever more happy about moving. This may invalidate me as a New Englander, but, hey. L.L.Bean stuff never fits me right anyhow (although my parents are up at the store/outlet in Kittery at this very moment).

(The title of this post is pretty silly, but it could be worse.)
zustifer: (czech mouse)
It looks like the plants won't come with to CA, but the mice will (although not specified, even the international faqy says that small terrestrial mammals are unregulated unless they're considered embargoed for some reason). This is pretty acceptable. I guess who knows where gypsy moth eggs lurk.
zustifer: (comics: creeper)
Hi internet! We are back from our little DC trip. It was nice.
SPX was interesting; next time, though, I will do my research beforehand. It's not a venue (at least for me) for finding out about new things. I don't have the fortitude to go up and leaf through people's work in front of their faces, while they're trying to convince me that I want it, or even to connect with me at all, personally. I don't want people to try to sell me things. Anyway, only one component (the art) is ascertainable as good or bad at a glance; things like pacing and writing are invisible at first. Subtle stuff fares the most poorly, and that stuff is often my favorite. So essentially, you (I) have to know what you want going in, or at least know your creators and what they're likely to have. I realise now that I failed to bring myself up to the minimum level of conversantness with the work/people in question. (This is why I only ended up buying a t-shirt, which is a goddamn excellent t-shirt, but probably I could have tried harder.)

The rest of the time was more overtly and effortlessly fun, though, since we got to go to museums and hang out with people. Everything worked out. So, here are some pictures.

zustifer: (Default)
Back, alive. Pictures to follow.
zustifer: (JFK with psi-rays)
Returned! A whole bunch of photos are here.

It's sort of weird to be back. I don't think I actually got anyone anything. The kitsch was too scary, and there wasn't really anything that I legitimately wanted. Although I did consider bringing back a whole bunch of tin sheriff's badges that said 'George'.
zustifer: (Puutan)
I promise I won't bother you about this trip(e) again! The last of the photos are over here.
zustifer: (Default)
I have finished cleaning up another batch of pictures: The Criminal Museum.

* a punishment of some kind. Unclear.


zustifer: (Default)
Karla Z

February 2012

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