today i discovered hidden talent on the tennis courts.
guilty pleasure of the day
pissing cash into the wind on...
pretty little flowers!!!!!!!!!!
unfettered recklessness of squelched creative energy
gone MAD
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And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom. Anais Nin
About Me
- Blue Fairy
- Perdutto e tutto il tempo, che in amor no si spende. Or something like that.
7 comments:
ach. spending is too often a guilty pleasure... my only free one is... well, you know.
my other guitly pleasure is stuffing an entire bag of kettle chips sweet chili flavor in my face and then blogging with my sticky greasy fingers all over the keyboard and then forgetting it was me and blaming the kids...hahahaha
even more satisfying when you are on the south beach diet
oh no
hear comes the guilt
damn
why'd i do that
yay! you're back. my only friend. i missed you vf. how you doin? no more stories over there at unplugged:(
(thought i'd share a little guilt with ya, just steeping in it at the moment)
just a li'l unglued hiatus... thoughts percolating. still got the other one, but it doesn't take as much thought... heh.
i do have to start writing again... hm.
otherwise, i'm well... started work on a new show... this, a 'three camera' show (sitcom with a live audience)...
should keep me busy until the spring, but ach, it's another set dressing job.
i'm wondering why you don't play set decorator. too many headaches? you must be able to given the shows you've done. not interested in art director? i wannna be the boss. i wanna be the frickin' designer so i can sit in my black leather chair and doodle and call people darling and have them accompany me to bars until 3am and then snooze under my habitat catalogue. or disappear on a recce for the whole day.and have people bring tea. no. double latte. cause we all know that's what they do all day. yeah. that's the life.
i used to decorate, and art direct, too. don't wanna.
that said, i might have to decorate for the sake of our crew.
we'll see.
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