Work is fucking INSANE schedule-wise. I'm barely keeping up, so I'm attempting to use the software that we do boards on for home use just so I can be at home once in awhile. So far, no good, as the files aren't loading correctly. FUCK.
Instead of going to Comic Con this year(what a fuckup trying to get either hotel or professional pass that turned out to be this time), I'll be hosting the couple who put me up in Nottingham in January. Since I haven't cleaned the house in, oh, forever, this is turning into a much bigger project than it should be. I fucking hate cleaning under a deadline.
The knee. Oh, the goddam knee. After seeing the orthopedic surgeon last week, I schedule an MRI. The doctor had said that he'd call no later than two days after getting the MRI results. I get the MRI Wednesday, they say the doctor will get the results no later than Thursday morning. I wait. No call. Today I called multiple times before even getting through to anyone. Then I get a call back from the doctor's nurse, who tells me that they should've scheduled an appointment for me to go over the MRI results because the doctor is too busy to call patients back for these things. Ugh, fine. When can I come in? How about tomorrow? Great, what time? What do you prefer? I prefer either really early or really late. OK, our last appointment is at 4pm.
JEEZUS H. BALD-HEADED KEE-RIST.
That of course will totally fuck up my already-two-days behind work schedule. So now I'm going to have to forgo the usual morning routine so that I can get into work early and get in a full day before leaving at 3pm to go from fucking Borebank to Beverly Hills to see the doctor to find out what the ever-living hell is wrong with my goddam knee.
Rollercon. I'm betting I won't be able to skate, no matter what the doctor says, because my knee hurts all the goddam time. Which really makes the whole Rollercon experience...not as much fun as it should be. I'm still excited that I'm going, but I'm missing two days of work for not skating. Can the timing get any crappier?
There are a couple of things that have kept me from punching myself in the face repeatedly until I pass out. But just a couple.
One: on Saturday during the weekend of Carmageddon(what a bunch of shit that turned out to be), Hurricane Ken said that his landlord Dave is having a birthday party and that I should show up. I've met Dave once before when Ken dragged him to a Fight Crew game, and since he's a cool dude, I gathered up the Dear Husband and off we went to the Hollywood Hills.
Dave is a writer, screenwriter, and all-around Kinda A Big Deal. He also likes monsters. He also has a lot of cool friends who all do Important Stuff like directing, writing, drawing, acting, etc. He also doesn't mind when I draw on him, so when I said I wanted to draw on him for his birthday, he complied quickly.
While I was drawing on him, I also managed to draw a crowd. Which is better than drawing flies, haha. Anyway, one of the other party-goers, Tom, was especially taken with the sharpie tattoo, and he asked Dave to ask me if I'd draw on him.
Sure, why not?
So I did.
Here they are in all their glory:
As well as Tom and myself:
At the time, I noticed that as Tom would walk through a room, other partygoers would whisper, That's Tom. He's in The Mist. After this happened a few times, I thought his name was Tom He's In The Mist. Because I'm so out of touch with the world that I've never seen The Mist.
Then I googled him when I got home.
He's also kinda a big deal.
He also takes a damn good photo:
DAYUM. I GOT TO DRAW ON THAT GUY.
The second thing that has kept me somewhat sane: Angel City skater LuAneurysm made these shirts for fellow ACDG skater Scarbie Doll after I heckled ACDG's B-team tryouts, and she posted a photo of said shirts on my Facebook wall:
I won't lie, seeing that after the shitty time I've been having lately brought a tear to my eye--I mean, dust. Damn, there's a lot of dust in the air.