alcohol + sharp objects!
I've apparently decided to mix drinking with t-shirt stenciling. Hopefully a) I will still have all my fingers in the morning and b) I won't blood stain any of the shirts.
***
Weird weird weird ass day today, guys. You don't even know. I wrote a little bit of my senior project. The highlight was the scene where Tristan, loveable scamp that he is, finally puts two and two together in regards to Danny and the "mystery patron" at the coffeeshop.
"Just my luck, right? And the guy is like, really good looking. Like one of those really put-together, attractive guys who play lawyers on teevee." Dan and Alan exchanged a long look that would have confused Tristan if he had noticed it. Alan grabbed a framed photo off of his desk and handed it to Dan, who handed it to Tristan.
"Is this the guy?" Dan asked.
Tristan's eyes went wide as he grasped the frame. "Yeah! Yeah, that's him!" His expression changed, however, when he studied the photo more closely. His mystery patron was settled against a bench somewhere green with his arms securely around Alan... "Um..."
"I don't think he's her boyfriend," Alan said dryly. "Unless there's something he's not telling me."
Tristan is fun, because I've never really written an unrequited love story before this. I mean, back in the tangle that was the Grace-Emily-Bryce-Christian universe, there was some unrequited stuff. Emily wanted Grace, Grace ended up with Christian, Bryce wanted Emily, Emily was still stuck on Grace... but in the end, Emily and Bryce get a happily ever after, too. Which made me feel a little awkward because it kind of seemed like I was being all, "Yeah, bisexuality ISN'T real, Emily just needed a good man to sort her out!" but... I totally wasn't. She just... loved Bryce. Eventually.
Um. Tangent.
Tristan is fun because Deirdre doesn't fall for him the way he wants and he keeps trying. And I find that adorable.
Also, I don't know why I can't type? I literally have taken one sip of the Mike's I just opened. And even when I'm drunk, I can generally still type. So I think maybe my fingers are just frazzled from exacto-knifing shit all night. WHO KNOWS.
***
Tristan's story in growing in bits and bobs, little things scribbled on the back of papers from Michael's. I have a reciept with his discussion about true love with Danny, which takes place on Alan's first day back at school after his major PTSD breakdown. I have a "Winter Break Arts Camp!" flyer with the beginning of his story sketched out on it (the first line is "Tristan's story was not a love story," just to make sure no one thinks he and Deirdre are going to live happily ever after by the end of September.). The part I just typed is from a legal pad with today's to-do list on it (Wood SBA up from the basement--check! Juan and I did that around five). I've got other parts hanging around on other Michael's things. It's kind of cool.
***
Stenciling. Right. Now that I have brushes I might as well start using them.
And drinking. Got that, too. Although, this isn't really a drinking house and I think it's entirely possible this Mike's is past its expiration date. I should switch to vodka next. That's fresh, at least!
***
Weird weird weird ass day today, guys. You don't even know. I wrote a little bit of my senior project. The highlight was the scene where Tristan, loveable scamp that he is, finally puts two and two together in regards to Danny and the "mystery patron" at the coffeeshop.
"Just my luck, right? And the guy is like, really good looking. Like one of those really put-together, attractive guys who play lawyers on teevee." Dan and Alan exchanged a long look that would have confused Tristan if he had noticed it. Alan grabbed a framed photo off of his desk and handed it to Dan, who handed it to Tristan.
"Is this the guy?" Dan asked.
Tristan's eyes went wide as he grasped the frame. "Yeah! Yeah, that's him!" His expression changed, however, when he studied the photo more closely. His mystery patron was settled against a bench somewhere green with his arms securely around Alan... "Um..."
"I don't think he's her boyfriend," Alan said dryly. "Unless there's something he's not telling me."
Tristan is fun, because I've never really written an unrequited love story before this. I mean, back in the tangle that was the Grace-Emily-Bryce-Christian universe, there was some unrequited stuff. Emily wanted Grace, Grace ended up with Christian, Bryce wanted Emily, Emily was still stuck on Grace... but in the end, Emily and Bryce get a happily ever after, too. Which made me feel a little awkward because it kind of seemed like I was being all, "Yeah, bisexuality ISN'T real, Emily just needed a good man to sort her out!" but... I totally wasn't. She just... loved Bryce. Eventually.
Um. Tangent.
Tristan is fun because Deirdre doesn't fall for him the way he wants and he keeps trying. And I find that adorable.
Also, I don't know why I can't type? I literally have taken one sip of the Mike's I just opened. And even when I'm drunk, I can generally still type. So I think maybe my fingers are just frazzled from exacto-knifing shit all night. WHO KNOWS.
***
Tristan's story in growing in bits and bobs, little things scribbled on the back of papers from Michael's. I have a reciept with his discussion about true love with Danny, which takes place on Alan's first day back at school after his major PTSD breakdown. I have a "Winter Break Arts Camp!" flyer with the beginning of his story sketched out on it (the first line is "Tristan's story was not a love story," just to make sure no one thinks he and Deirdre are going to live happily ever after by the end of September.). The part I just typed is from a legal pad with today's to-do list on it (Wood SBA up from the basement--check! Juan and I did that around five). I've got other parts hanging around on other Michael's things. It's kind of cool.
***
Stenciling. Right. Now that I have brushes I might as well start using them.
And drinking. Got that, too. Although, this isn't really a drinking house and I think it's entirely possible this Mike's is past its expiration date. I should switch to vodka next. That's fresh, at least!