I wish I could write a beautiful book to break those hearts that are soon to cease to exist: a book of faith and small neat worlds and of people who live by the philosophies of popular songs.

It’s very expressive of myself. I just lump everything in a great heap which I have labeled “the past”, and, having thus emptied this deep reservoir that was once myself, I am ready to continue.

Oh, the secret life of man and woman — dreaming how much better we would be than we are if we were somebody else or even ourselves, and feeling that our estate has been unexploited to its fullest.

daveholmes:

When I was 9, my parents threw a birthday party for some old great-aunt or -uncle or other and invited the whole massive extended family. We’re Irish, so it was packed. Last to arrive was my great-uncle Freddy, a jolly widower who had recently taken up painting. He showed up with a huge package…

Thank you, Captain Obvious.

Dear Cracker Jack, If instruction is necessary, it isn’t a prize. Sincerely, laylaness

http://photography.laylaness.com

Uploaded some oldies but goodies, and a handful of newer shots.

Most of my projects in the last year have been The Front Row-related, so mosey on over there if you want to see.

Walk a mile in a hipster’s shoes. They won’t.

Amazing day in Dolores Park

Diego got a job. Title: Kibble Consumption Engineer. This is his portfolio.

undoing all the good in ballet

Thanks for the laughs, E.

For the first time ever, I am seriously disappointed in an Apple product I own. iMovie. Now, before you say anything, yes, I KNOW, Final Cut Pro, but I am a starving artist, okay? Besides, Adobe pisses me off more than Apple does on a day-to-day basis. I can’t even look at Adobe sometimes. It’s like Adobe WANTS me to be angry with it. Adobe is always like, “Why are you launching me so late? Where have you been? Were you with Silverlight? You know I hate that hussy! Fine, let’s see how YOU like it when I make you edit every instance of a hot area in Flash instead of just the one you selected!” To which I respond, “It wasn’t Silverlight! It was JavaScript, okay? JAVASCRIPT.” 

Anyway. iMovie. Since iMovie ‘08, project files have been auto-saved and stored in the local directory. Which is fine, I guess, if you, like me, are not one who saves often because you get into a zone and just sort of forget. Until you need to free up some hard drive space, say, or you purchase a new MacBook Pro because the logic board on your iMac started to fail. 

I had to move my files for an iMovie project from the iMac to an external hard drive for 2 reasons: 1. So I could finish up the final cut of the film on the new machine, and 2. So I would have a backup copy of all my files.

I woke to a harsh reality this morning: after hours of trying to figure out what went wrong (uninstalling, reinstalling, rebooting, importing, deleting, reimporting…), I finally did a search on the Googles to find that the reason I couldn’t open and continue work on my project is that the link between the project and iMovie was changed (thanks ehmac.ca!). The ostensible fix for this problem was to simply drag and drop the iMovie file into my home folder.

Wrong. It didn’t work. 

Next, I tried to import the last cut of the project back into iMovie in order to hopefully be able to use it (clearly not an optimal condition, but at least I wouldn’t lose 40 hours of work) to finish up the last edits before final cut.

Import was a success, but then I couldn’t drag the event into the project pane. I tried, like, a dozen times. There was swearing. There were thoughts of bodily injury. There was a scared Chihuahua staring at me with frightened, watery eyes.

My last ditch effort was to select-all on the newly imported footage, copy and paste. This seems to have done the deed. I hope. Cross your fingers for me.

Just another Wednesday night.

I think I know a person or two who will nerdgasm all over this.

Frowny face dent in the kitchen ceiling. I think it’s from a rogue Champagne cork, Jennifer T. Pants.

From the fabulous Heather and Jessica over at GoFugYourself:

Is this not the most fabulous pairing? I hope they become besties, and are seen about town having lunch at The Ivy and buying shoes at Barney’s and carting the Beckham brood through malls and to Jonas Brothers concerts and whatnot. All of which would be filmed for TV, of course, because you can’t pair up a Golden Girl and Mrs. Golden Balls without documenting it for those of us who aren’t invited to the party. Let’s call it Posh and Betts. Or Gold Spice. Something. ANYTHING.