tame that shrew

tis true, my friend brought it to my attention that I haven't been blogging lately. I get into these bouts of self obsession to the point where I forget I need to remember, and the best way of remembering for me is with words. All of a sudden there's a whir of colors and outings, faces and places that won't last for lack of sobriety or interest. So update on me, by me (though it'd be beyond rad to have an update on me by someone else, like jesus, or my liver, or my couch):

I've had 2 conference calls where I've been interviewing people for my september assignments. I used to believe there was nothing more awkward than a phone conversation, and now I know there is- a phone conference conversation. This is mostly due to the non-participative other people listening in on my awkward ums and overzealousness. As the interviewer I over analyze my questions, and it's really a difficult situation for all said parties. On top of that my conference call today disconnected a total of 3 times, each time I dialed back in and tried to bust a congenial retort on my bipolar phone. Noticeably, they weren't having it

For someone who's quite self aware, it's painstaking to the max and I opt out of any future instances. Oh technology, How do I loathe thee? may I count the ways.

This weekend was nonstop. Went to comic con yesterday, and while avoiding the mystical world of first person cosplay, definitely indulged in vicarious stupor. We coined the term blowfish for every person who could only borderline fit their costume. Honorary mention was this corpulant ursula who encored in my nightmare last night, belly first. Regardless, twas a blast, and we were selling with the director of the debut and some apia hollywood heads. That world is surreally small, and i'm itching to be a part of it soon

TBC [have only 10 more min before my mind droning "for the man" job, and writing deadlines=anxiety]