Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot (1992)

There we have it ladies and gentlemen. My 15 hour day. And I have to admit, I am not as sleepy as I thought I would be. Just in pain from my HEAVY ASS BOOK BAG! Geez! I would pay so much money right now for a massage. 

I have an hour and 1/2 break in the morning between SSC & Art Hist. And I found this cool little hallway with a cool little desk that I can put my cool stuff on....In my own little corner in my own little chair....

Have you ever been interested in Noah's Arc? I remember in children's church when I found out that the dimensions of the arc were in the Bible, I decided I would build it one day. Well, I don't have to. Kentucky is doing it for me at the Creation Museum. 2014, you better believe I will encounter the arc at the Arc Encounter Exhibit.

http://arkencounter.com/

The school is offering R.A.D. this semester (Rape Aggression Defense) I'm really excited about it, I feel like I'm training to be a ninja. :)

Boy, they are really excited about The Smurfs Movie. The screening is tomorrow with our choice of 3D or 2D. Haven't really decided yet. 

American Cinema was pretty cool tonight. Screened a couple of Documentaries about the earliest moving pictures. Someone Edweard Muybridge, Eddison, & Lumiere. For those unsure follow link below

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q8X0sHS0g8A

Directing class was fun. We had an assignment over orientation that has been making me anxious. Write a story on one page being visually descriptive. That's what I remember from the directions but apparently there was an entire paragraph describing the assignment. I wasn't sure if I followed correctly, but my paper was received well. I'll post it at the end for you.

Here is most of the first years in American Cinema

Here's a video with an interesting fact. 

Heres The Directing Paper:

Christene Hurley

8-22-11

FIM 1201-3

He carefully placed the bundled baby in her arms, forcing her to hold him in a very specific way.  His arms hairy and muscular, he guided her left palm under the baby’s tiny head, and her right arm crossing over and securing his back. His tiny eyes squinted snapping a picture with a shutter of his eyelashes. So she swept her palm over his face and to the million little jet black curls that enveloped his crown. His little nostrils flared and caved rhythmically and she imagined his lungs filling up with air and collapsing.  She looked at his swollen belly and cupped it with her hand carefully avoiding his exposed belly button. He pursed and licked his lips and made a suckling noise like a little mouse.  

He felt so natural in her arms. As if he were painted as a part of her chest. She could feel her own blood pumping through his translucent veins but somehow remained unfamiliar.  She was holding her nephew. And holding onto a voice inside reminding her she will never have a child of her own. 

Barren, infertile and sterile; words she used daily in her head. Sometimes even the first words that come out in the morning, and when it did she imagined her mind like a hamster on a wheel going nowhere really fast. She concluded that suffering is as much a part of life as happiness.