Today I discovered the meaning of Christmas. Charlie Brown would’ve been proud. I could totally be Linus.

Cue the lights.

And lo, a multitude of cookie men and women ascended from my oven, naked and warm. And whence were there had been no smiles, sugary smiles of chopped up gum-drops were brought forth and bestowed upon the crumby ones. With joy and happiness, I danced with my new tasty friends. With unparalleled revelry we forged Christmas anew and discovered that the true meaning of Christmas dwells within the brains of the gingerbread people. Ergo, I ate their heads and felt that my halls had been decked and my night was loudly silent. Happy Christmas, my friends. Happy tasty unrelenting caloric intake Christmas.

Indeed, there was much cookie-ing today. My sister joined me, and we decorated until the chocolate chip cows came home.

 Here is a photo of my lovely sibling, lost in the artistry of the cookie.  She’s the best darned Grade 2 teacher out there, considering she made each one of her damn wiener kids their very own personalized cookie. No one has EVER done that for me. But behold, I have done it for myself… and others. My cookie friends of this evening include the MP, Jonny T, Steve, Liam, Lizzie, Cyclops Cookie, Loin Cloth Cookie, Beer Gut Cookie (not seen here), Big Boob Cookie (also not seen here), and Zombie Cookie (also not seen here). Here are the cookies that you can see here:

 I still have several dozen cookies to decorate… which is my own fault because I used a recipe for a gingerbread house which makes for a crud-load of dough. I suppose I COULD make a house. I also COULD go to the gym, get really buff, and kick your ass. Neither of these are likely possibilities. So there.

MP, over and out.

“[He] believed in that God Chip in the brain, something created to process and trigger wonderment. It allows you to see beauty, to uncover beauty in the world. But it’s not so well designed. It’s a chip that has problems. Sometimes it confuses a small man with a bad moustache and a uniform for an image of the infinite; sometimes an almond-eyed girl on a big screen for the stained-glass window in a church.” – The Autograph Man by Zadie Smith

I’ve been working non-stop on my Demo Reel DVD for my design class, and thus have had neither time nor conscious thought for the past three days, or at least none that weren’t filled with encoding assets, overlays, and compressors. Here’s a screen shot of my main menu (sans the movie files that fill each little frame)

 I like it alright. It still needs some work, but I’ll be handing it in as is. I’m a GOOD student…. a good student… a goo. I am goo.

So here’s this week’s nerd report:

There has indeed been some Star Wars watching ’round these parts. I’ve found that no other filmic experience better suits and promotes the geeky toils of creating DVD menus and buttons and transitions. Monday was Episode IV “A New Hope” followed by Episode V “The Empire Strikes Back” on Tuesday. The result of this combination of experiences has hereby altered my favourite Star Wars line of all time. Previously, my quotable quote was “Awww, but I wanted to go to Toshe Station to pick up some power converters.” (Spoken by the one and only Luke Skywalker). Replacing this timeless line is the honourable Han Solo with his reaction to Leia calling him a Laser-Brain and Chewy laughing at it. “Laugh it up, Fuzz Ball.” CLASSIC, my friends. The intonation is where it is made truly stellar, but unfortunately, I cannot emulate said intonation here. Nevertheless, this is very important information and I know that you care deeply.

I left VFX class early today. We were learning how to model a cave with water in it in 3D Studio Max. Excitement ensued. Ok, I’m lying. Excitement did not ensue. But snoring did! I wasn’t tapping my attention wells at all, and oh so defyingly working on my Avid assignment instead, whilst trying to follow along less than half-heartedly. So when the class progressed to the point where we had somehow managed to model and animate water inside of these 3D tubes we were calling caves, I had no water. There was no water in my tube. I figured the only way to deal with the situation was to leave. And that’s exactly what I did. I regret nothing, and here’s why: I usually have to wait 20 minutes everytime I wish to board a bus to take me either to school or home again (jiggidy jig). But today, I tell you, I never waited once. The bus was waiting for me at Kipling Station AND at the corner of Highway 27 and Humber College Blvd. Everything came up MP… or at least the bus did.

Bridget, this is for you: Bussss bus bus bus busssss bus bus bus bussss busss buss buss bus.

If you are not Bridget, please ignore the above statement.

And now for MP’s Tuesday Night Dream of Doom!!!

Ahem… I had this dream, where I was at the cottage with my Dad and my old friends from highschool Katherine and Patricia. It was September, and very cold. We were in the living room of my cottage, standing by a large window that faces the lake and drinking lemonade. Then the Wicked Witch of West flew in on her broom in front of the window, laughing like a mad man on crystal meth. Katherine and Patricia disappeared at this point, and I was pretty much like “what the fuck? this dream isn’t quirky of kitschy or interesting at all. Seriously? The Wicked Witch of the West. Friggin’ frig.” Then that green-faced-todo-catching bitch got a huge live electrical cable and put one end in the lake while trying to fix the other end to the cottage, thus eletricuting me and my Dad. Now, understand that the physics of this dream are by no means accurate. I cannot defend the reality of my dreams. Anyway, this stupid witch was trying to kill us with these unlikely means, so I poured my lemonade on her. Since the concentration of water in the lemonade was not high enough, she only half-melted. What a world, what a world. What a crappy dream.