There comes a time in every dallying blogger’s life when she must simply write. Time to turn on the spigot and let the muse loose, talking about… whatever.

But the truth is that my mind these days is a little blank. After a long semester and after dodging illness (not an easy feat with two adorable bags of germs swirling about me), I am drained. Well no. Not wholly drained: I am just tired. The semester ended on a high note, thank goodness, with a small documentary a few friends and I produced getting picked up by a whole bunch of different blogs. We may enter it into a couple of film festivals. We worked very hard on it, so it’s a proud and happy moment– a fleeting one that I don’t know quite how to savor, but whose delicate bouquet I am trying to swirl against the roof of my mouth. For those of you interested, here is that video of which I speak:

Yeah. It came out pretty good. It still needs a few tweaks here and there (most notably, the audio), but yeah. This is as good a place as any to insert some outrageously happy .gif.

Right? Let Joseph Gordon-Levitt do my happy dance for me. That’s what I always say.

Okay…. with that bit of bragging out of the way, I come to this: I am okay with being an omphalokeptic, neurotic artist. Super-duper, totally fine. Except that now I need money, dammit. Because being a tortured artist only goes so far, and in my case I have two young mouths to feed. So I need to start making some $. Any ideas, thoughts, suggestions or actual offers of work that does not involve food service are appreciated– one of my recurrent nightmares is of waking up smelling like pico de gallo. But seriously. I need your help or support or whatever it is that I can get from the interwebs, other than .gifs and memes.

Pretty please?