The Crown Jewel

So here's a little something to all those psych majors out there: Don't psychoanalyze me, dude. I know, I know, you get that all the time. And yes, it really riles your rocket, I know! I used to be one of you. But here's the deal. Ya actually do it, ya her? For serious. Because it's painful for those of us that are too polite to actually SAY this, to deflect your oh-so-penetrating and soul-peery questions. Really, I don't want to hear about my rocky self image or my self-defeating tendencies. I already have to live with them. And trust me, I'm introverted enough to know that they're there.
Maybe I have a odd take on it all, but I think psychiatrists and therapists might be the number one most manipulated group of people there is. Under the guise of genuity, a patient can get exactly what they want. Whether its help, or the fuel for an ulterior motive. The point is, my shortcomings don't need any more attention than I give them. They'll get big egos.


In other news, I had to cover myself with goo yesterday evening. I was shooting with this really cool photographer Allen Cooley, via invite from a makeup artist I've worked with before. She always gets me good projects. But I'm steadily learning that there's always a catch with her: a) she doesn't quite tell the whole story about whats happening in the shoot BEFORE the shoot, and b) whatever she's not saying is always weird and semi uncomfortable. She might be the definition of  "Surprise me." So anyway, goop. So it would look like I was melting. So the first set of pictures, the goop was red, which essentially just made it look like I was eating a dead vampire from True Blood. Not pretty. The second set, we changed the goop to clear, and it was a pretty neat effect. I legitimately can't wait to have those photos. You'll see why!