Two Weeks without Drawing

It's hard to believe that I went the entire two week trip without drawing anything. I even worried that my sketchbook in my backpack wouldn't have enough paper to see me through the trip. I think two weeks may be a record actually.

So on my flight home, on the leg from Newark to Cincinnati, I got out my sketchpad and started drawing whatever came to mind. Not sure why this was the image, but it turned out pretty well considering the shaky flight.



It's food day at work. Just what my expanding waistline needs. Darn it's sooo good though.

The Nerve

I went to the movies right after work today to catch a matinee of "The Collection." I like horror movies and the previews to this one looked interesting to me. I remember seeing "The Collector," on DVD a few years back.

There were five people in the theater -- a young couple, a couple of young ladies together, and me.

After ten minutes or so into the movie, I was amazed at the gall that some young people have when it comes to the movies. I was watching a scene when I heard talking. I was in the back of the theater and wasn't sure it wasn't something from the surround sound system, but what was being said didn't match the scene on the screen.

I looked down at the young couple and saw the young lady's blonde hair glowing from the light from her cell phone as it was stuck to her ear. Seriously, she was talking ON THE PHONE ... OUT LOUD during a movie. Texting I could handle, at least it is quiet, but this was the rudest thing I've seen in the theater in a while.

Like Murphy the Cat stalking a paper ball, I crept forward over the row of seats, ready to give this uncouth little tart a scare she was not expecting even during this horror movie. Just at the moment I was about to yell at her, she said "bye" on the phone.

I settled back to my seat, hoping this was done. She then kept talking off and on to her boyfriend and texting. She'd burned up her leeway with me, so I left the theater and went to the concession stand.

"Can I help you, sir?" said the young lady at the counter.

"Yes, there is a little blonde bitch sitting dead center in theater 3 talking on her phone and texting during the movie. She won't be hard to spot, there are only five people in the theater and she's the only blonde," I sternly replied.

The young lady paged a manager as I walked back to the theater. I got back to my seat, knowing full well this was likely a futile gesture. I saw three ushers come to the edge of the stairs and, of course, the brat was a perfect movie patron during their 20 second visit.

She seemed to tone it down for the rest of the movie. I stared daggers at her as she left during the credits. At best, she was 17 and gave the outward impression that she was a pretty, vapid Paris Hilton-wannabe. She didn't notice my evil glare, as I'm sure she's used to being stared at.

The movie was okay, nothing spectacular, but the blonde obviously affected the movie-going experience.