This is me...at work.

We've always be taught that Work = Money.

I absolutely can not concentrate because I've been working here without pay for a month. Well, not a month, they gave us 2 weeks off since the company didn't have enough in the budget. They called us back claiming we'd have a paycheck at the end of the week. Now, it's Friday. Payday. But no pay. They said it's coming next week....but they said that before. I'm not sure I believe this. This company has a reputation...

Somehow everyone else has continued to work like normal. If I truly believed we would get paid next week I might be able to focus. I'm not sure. How am I putting up with this? Why is no one else panicked?

My new animation reel

I'm very proud that most of the clips are in HD. The ones that aren't are standard size blown up to HD and look ok. The last time I completely overhauled my reel was in 2008. Unfortunately, then my reel dimensions were half the size of a television screen. That was because most of the clips were saved for the internet when I still had dial-up and the original versions were too big for a CD.

My new computer has a terabyte of space. That blows my mind.

So, I've taken out all the small sized clips and replaced them with new animations. Someday, I'd like to get an HD version of Ark City before my negative deteriorates if it hasn't already.

New Art Blog. No new art yet.

I have a new Tumblr account to replace my Art Blog (which is not this blog :). http://christibertelsen.tumblr.com/

I don't know how many others have had issues with Blogger since Google bought it years ago. I have two Blogger accounts under two different email addresses. To post on my Art Blog I must sign out of this account and into the one with gmail. It's complicated when I want to stay signed into my gmail during work hours, but still want to post on this blog.

Why don't I merge my accounts? I don't want my Nofoodforyou blog to be searched, but do want my Art blog searchable. The problem is, everything on my Art Blog account is now searchable.

A few non-published images from my Art blog showed up after Googling my name. These were images that were either unfinished work, or photos that I wanted to show my friends who refused to sign onto AIM so I can file transfer pictures to them. It's just easier to send a link. Either way, these were images that should not have been public, since I had never published them.

It turned out that my new Google+ account had a folder which held all my passed blog uploads. I delete folder not knowing that it would corrupt almost every link on my Art Blog. Then the blog was full of blank boxes. Out of frustration I canceled my Google+ account. I was very annoyed and didn't feel I should bother finding the images to re-link. So my Blogger Art Blog is a mess. Now, I decided to start a Tumblr account for my "Professional" blog and still use Nofoodforyou to bitch and moan about 1st world problems such as this...

My Pride Day

My Pride Flag on 5th Avenue.

Today was one of the best Pride Days I've had in a while. Not only did I actually go to the parade, I marched it.

I got a text from Tristian this morning asking me to watch the parade with him. At the time I was undecided if wanted to join up with Dykes on Bicycles and ride in the parade (not to be confused with Dykes on Bikes) or find a skateboarding group, but I ditched both those ideas.

I met up with Tristian. Both of us were under the impression that Jose was somewhere down the route with his buddies. So, we headed downtown to find them. The sidewalk was packed with onlookers, merchants with gay accoutrements and tourists trying to enter the Empire State Building. So, we simply climbed over the barricade and stowed away with LGBT Families for Immigration Reform group. I bought a rainbow flag for $1. Tristian bought a rainbow Mohawk wig for $10. We fitted right in.

Tristian dancing.

By the time we approached the end, deep in the heart of the West Village, neither of us had heard back from Jose. We walked through the street fair where I found empanadas, then stopped in the nearest and emptiest bar for a drink. We were both about to part ways and go home when Jose called.

As it turned out, he was not at the parade at all. He had just come from the E train having transferred from the 6 train after a passenger attempted suicide. The story goes, that the guy began to jump in front of the oncoming train, but some other guy pulled him back and then punched him in the face. Then, a seemingly sweet little old lady said bluntly, "If he wanted to kill himself, why didn't he just jump off a building?" Even Jose was taken back. Then he told her "But that would have created traffic."

Jose still had to met up with his buddies, the drag queen and the muscle guy. We found them, but they where on their way home to dress up for an extremely expensive pier party. The three of us went to GYM, a gay bar which I believe is called "GYM" because it was filled with lots sweaty men. I lasted about 5 minutes before leaving to find an empanada restaurant. I was just really craving empanadas today.

We lost Tristian to prior engagements. I decided to try out the Cubby Hole. It's no secret that I hate lesbian bars, but it was Pride Day, so the internal pressure for just "making an effort" had drove me to...well, get it over with. The line was out the door and around the corner. No. No. I know the experience of standing in illegal sized crowds, not able to reach the bar and losing all personal space, looking at the backs of heads and shoulders while your friend asks if you see any cute girls. In fact I had just experienced it at GYM, with sweaty men and not cute or annoying girls. Yeah, I said that I find most girls annoying.

Jose with the flag he wanted to sell.

Jose and I ended up at an Irish Pub where the Yankees played the Mets on all tvs, the Guinness was poured perfectly and free karaoke. I sang two songs. It wasn't exactly the type of place he wanted to be, but it was subdued enough for me. They also severed free hot dogs, which Jose loved.

We went to one other place afterwards that promised good music and an open bar, but it turned out to be a pretentious waste of time. Then it was close to 11pm and I had to head home. Jose went to the East Village. I hope had a good time there.

So, that was my Pride Day.