So, guess who read that article on C-3P0's Cereal?

C-3P0. No, really. I got an e-mail from the guy who runs Anthony Daniels' site, telling me how happy he was to see that another soul had a box of the stuff, and how reading the article opened the gates for plenty of memories from the commercial shoot. At first I wasn't too sure if the man himself read it, but hey, go check out his site. He did! Prittttty cool.

Well, that's two. I got to meet Harrison Ford under fairly intimate circumstances at the junket for K-19, but between my well-hidden awestruckityness and the fact that there were four other interviewers in the room, it didn't amount to much more than introductions and a couple of questions about a movie nobody went to see. And I had this really bad pinkish red hair thing going on, so I was all antsy. Still, I was sitting three feet from Han Solo -- like Greedo.

Admittedly, if there's anything worse than starfucking, it's starwarsfucking. But I am pretty humbled and so wanting to reuse my C-3P0 Play-Doh mold. Maybe me and Anthony can head down to PS-166 and shoot some hoops.

Just got done on a freelance project that required watching 20 hours of a television show that must remain nameless for now. I love the show, but combing through 20 hours of anything is a pretty damning project. I will now celebrate the big finish by atrophying for the few hours I have left before yet another glorious workweek. Rumors persist that I may get a full day off in 2012, but I'll probably waste that day writing a tribute to Hordak or something.