(no subject)

this weekend, the filming of my final "student film" commenced. the film is gonna be called "murphy's law" which has nothing to do with its content, and everything with the context of its ontogenesis. suffice to say that the final product in no way resembles the original storyboard, i *think* it will look cool, assuming that it is visible upon development (i made the executive decision to use the same F-stop for the entire thing, because i had a strong suspicion that taking multiple light readings, in the rain, trying to wield a hand-held camera wrapped in festively colored garbage bags, feeling strong guilt for forcing two people into participating in my personal reenactment of The Book of Job, would be the proverbial straw that would break the camel's back and facilitate a nervous breakdown). furthermore, at some point i had to get blunted to deal with the fact that my cast dramatically shrank from 8 to 2 due to various circumstances and crises, and while that made getting soaked in the rain a hippie sensory/phenomenological experience (smoking makes me mellow), today i feel like utter crap. i could not get out of bed until, like, two, which was unfortunate, because there seemingly was a super-slow police chase going on outside of my window, where the siren ascended and wailed and dopplered past my window for about 15 minutes, which, in accordance to einstein's theory of relativity example (pretty girl vs. stove) seemed like an "ad nauseum ad infinatum" kinda thing. i don't know what's wrong with me. either i got a cold from the rain and a general lack of sleep, or my body is doing that weird low blood pressure thing that it does every few months where i become subhuman and can barely move for a couple of days, and only through constant ingestion of strong tea with lots of sugar am i able to keep my eyelids open. so i've been drinking tea. i feel that it overlaps as a cure for both the blood pressure and for a cold, so i've just been consuming it santa-claus mug by santa-claus mug. at least now i am out of bed and am hanging out in the living room, which is at the moment so filled with flies that it looks like a sartre play. jen and i just went to walgreens and bought a fly strip, and now we are sittin ghere and watching the flies evade the honey-filled trap either out of superior evolutionary skills, or out of complete stupidity wherein their mechanisms for being attracted to sweet things has been atrophied. begone flies, begone. Vade retro, satana. Satan is an anagram of Santa. Heh-heh.