This year, I was lucky enough to be invited to the Oscars. While every girl I knew squealed and asked what I was wearing I was riddled with anxiety. The day before the Oscars I had a fitting with Dior where I got to try on some beautiful dresses. I was between two dresses: the Carrie Bradshaw all-you-can-eat dress and the Angelina Jolie sexy leg kimono. I really wasn’t sure if I would ever get back to the Oscars so I let my inner Carrie Bradshaw take over and went with the dress with eight pounds of tullle. The fact that I was going to the show was no longer an idea but becoming a reality and like a 13-year-old girl at her birthday party, I had a complete meltdown. Somehow the night before the Oscars I managed to get into an argument with my best friend, my mom and my boyfriend.
I feel like this should be required reading for anyone who is a fan of any actor ever and/or has aspirations to work in Hollywood in any capacity. Because nothing I didn’t know (other than how Brad Pitt smells), but holy shit, getting it all in one place like this.
A friendly desert community where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep. Welcome to Night Vale.
(Art school illustration assignment that is about
99% done! I will post bigger image of finished version when it’s done!) You can view a mega-huge version of the image on my website here!
LOOK AT THE MEGA HUGE VERSION!!!
Schrödinger opens the box and nothing changes.
The cat lacks vital signs (no heartbeat, no breathing, no brain function): the cat is dead.
The cat exhibits continued animation (blinking, walking, nudging his hand with its little head): the cat is alive.
Schrödinger is afraid.
That has not changed, either.