So tonight in lighting class we had to "Build a Lighting Scheme". In other words, take a coolio picture of stuff. I love lighting lab. This quarter I basically live for thursday nights. Here's the final fruits (and cabbage) of my labor:
I rock so hard it hurts.
---
Oh, and remember Singleness Lamenting Girl from last quarter whom I had (and still have) one helluva crush on, who fawned all over Nick that one time and sent me into the stark chasm from which Dark Haired Girl rescued me from later that same night? Well... she (SL Girl) came into our lab tonight, and as she passed my camera with image still showing on LCD, she gave me a flat "Oh. That's nice." She then proceeded over to Nick and started (again) fawning all over his setup, his photos (which he asked for and followed advice from me on how to frame and light, thank you very much), and was soon in a rapt conversation with him about the origins of the universe. Seriously. I'd want to strangle Nick if he weren't so damned personable and likeable. For some reason, the women I'm attracted to (SL Girl is only one of several identical predicaments) want nothing to do with me, and cling to him like static electricity. I'm so envious of him I could vomit.
All over his perfect little projects.
Anyway, went to the Trolley Stop after lab and had my fill of cheap-ass beer and hippie music in celebration of my kick-ass photo, and then decided to finally check out this Masque place I hear so much about. I have no idea where it is, and compounded by the fact I'm already buzzing rather hard, miraculously I park right next to it. I go into the unassuming solid door marked only with a painted stencil of a Carnivale mask...
The upper floor is the house/dance/electronica floor, and I make a beeline for it. I have tasted heaven, and it's in a seizure-inducingly lit room in downtown Dayton, Ohio. Danced like a total jackass until I was ready to drop. Good stuff. Very good stuff indeed. Masque indeed did originate as a gay club, and still draws quite the flambouyant crowd, but dancing among them was nothing short of totally liberating.
That, and I did call the shirtless bartender a chiseled marble statue. Oh, you guys need to see me when I'm drunk. I'm a riot. :-)
I rock so hard it hurts.
---
Oh, and remember Singleness Lamenting Girl from last quarter whom I had (and still have) one helluva crush on, who fawned all over Nick that one time and sent me into the stark chasm from which Dark Haired Girl rescued me from later that same night? Well... she (SL Girl) came into our lab tonight, and as she passed my camera with image still showing on LCD, she gave me a flat "Oh. That's nice." She then proceeded over to Nick and started (again) fawning all over his setup, his photos (which he asked for and followed advice from me on how to frame and light, thank you very much), and was soon in a rapt conversation with him about the origins of the universe. Seriously. I'd want to strangle Nick if he weren't so damned personable and likeable. For some reason, the women I'm attracted to (SL Girl is only one of several identical predicaments) want nothing to do with me, and cling to him like static electricity. I'm so envious of him I could vomit.
All over his perfect little projects.
Anyway, went to the Trolley Stop after lab and had my fill of cheap-ass beer and hippie music in celebration of my kick-ass photo, and then decided to finally check out this Masque place I hear so much about. I have no idea where it is, and compounded by the fact I'm already buzzing rather hard, miraculously I park right next to it. I go into the unassuming solid door marked only with a painted stencil of a Carnivale mask...
The upper floor is the house/dance/electronica floor, and I make a beeline for it. I have tasted heaven, and it's in a seizure-inducingly lit room in downtown Dayton, Ohio. Danced like a total jackass until I was ready to drop. Good stuff. Very good stuff indeed. Masque indeed did originate as a gay club, and still draws quite the flambouyant crowd, but dancing among them was nothing short of totally liberating.
That, and I did call the shirtless bartender a chiseled marble statue. Oh, you guys need to see me when I'm drunk. I'm a riot. :-)
posted by Grover at 5/12/2006 01:55:00 AM
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