My Arm Hates Me

No, I haven't been masturbating excessively.

...

I did, however, try to carry--on my own--one large suitcase containing a fancy video camera plus gear, one larger suitcase containing a shotgun mic, cables, and analog sound mixer, and one very heavy tripod, none of which had shoulder straps or anything of the sort to, say, facilitate single-person carrying functions. No. No, indeed.

I got tsked for five minutes by the guy who showed us how to use the cameras and sound mixers. At first, I took it as gentle teasing and told him it wasn't very encouraging. He continued his tsking. Then I gathered the things together for the first time and prepared to leave. His tsking escalated and he noted that *that* was why.

Oh. Duh.

So this was an exciting adventure in killing myself slowly with expensive media gear. I took the elevator downstairs and knew I was fucked. I called Chris, who ended up not being on campus, and didn't have the phone numbers of anyone else who might be on campus and willing to help me. So I took the bus. From north campus to south. Two stops. Pathetic. But, really, one shouldn't try to carry this stuff alone, so I don't know what I was thinking.

By the time I got to work, my left elbow--under which I'd tucked the heavy tripod--was about spasming with unhappiness and my whole arm felt heavy. Not a good sign.

It's ridiculously sore today, and that's after I got a ride home after work (with help carrying gear to the car), a ride to campus just prior to our filming plan, and so I only had to carry the whole shebang into the HUB and down a flight of stairs once I got there.

Anyway, we got about ten minutes of footage down so far. Yay. And that may be unusable because of the angle of things and stuff... it's hard to explain, but the shot isn't set up in the best of ways, nor is the space particularly helpful, and blah. The sound should be good, though. We taped the Muslim men praying in the basement of the HUB, so there is chanting and whatnot.

Oh, and there was a chair shoved into the middle of my shot mid-prayer. Annnhhh.

For Friday, I have it arranged so at least one other person will be around to help pick up and return gear.

Anyway, I am taking off this weekend. Heading to Portland Saturday with my mom so I can meet my new niece, who's name is Puthyda--pronounced "puh-tea-dah" and meaning "angel" in Khmer. Also, I am driving home with Christine, who is stealing her mom's car. We are going to go to Burgerville FOR REALS. I am getting a berry smoothie. Their smoothies are like fat-free frozen yogurt milkshakes and as such are divine.

OH. And. Guys. I am making a zine, I think. The title is How to Grow Up. A lady at Bulldog told me that because I was buying three other zines, or something, I should make a zine for them to sell. And I always meant to do that, y'know? So far, I am making Lauren do comics--y'all will love Lauren's comics if you haven't seen them already--and Chris will write stories about lessons learned in his youth, which will be high-larious. Anyway, it's not a theme issue this time around, so if you want to write (nonfiction, please, and no poetry) or send me art or photos of weird shit in exchange for, umm... well, nothing, really, but I could give you a copy of the zine when it comes out... yeah, e-mail me your idea or the whole thing sometime soonish. I would love to hear from you, whoever you are.