- ̗̀Tell that to the world ̖́-

My time on this blog has had some really good highlights but honestly, more bad times than good. I don’t want to leave entirely, especially when I’ve just gotten time and my desire to be here back.

I’ll be making a new blog, once I come up with a name for it. So that could take a while. But I’ll be keeping this one simply for my side blogs and nostalgia purposes. I’d just delete everything off this one and start fresh but I can’t. I’m still stongly attached to my older OCs that I dont get to write anymore and I can’t just erase them. But I’ll be taking a few with me, the ones I haven’t really gotten a chance to write or develop much so you’ll see some familiar faces that are getting a fresh start as well.

Maybe the same people won’t follow me. Maybe I won’t follow some of the people that I am now. But I’m doing what’s best for myself and I can’t and won’t apologize for that.

Glass Top Gazebo

This is just something I thought was really pretty so I converted it. 

There’s 3 presets and a recolorable version with 3 channels. 

Unfortunately there aren’t any slots so you’ll have to use OMSP to place things/sims on it. But I included a diagram with the OMSP heights to make it easy for you. 

You can find it in sculptures for $100. 

Reshade may make the glass look funny.

Credit to SimArchitect for the mesh and Psychosim for the overlays.

I’d love to be tagged if you use it 

“N-no,” the woman stammered, “I just meant I’ve never been to this place and I’m quite clumsy. Here let me grab your paper for you.” “Not like it’s any good now,” Lyla huffed. “Casting calls,” the woman questioned as she picked up the dripping newspaper and tossed it in a nearby trashcan with a look of disgust,” You’re an actor?”

“Yes…well, sort of. Stuck in low budget gigs with newbies as castmates. Waiting for my break is slowly killing me.”

“Gwendolyn Christian,” the woman smiled, reaching out her hand, “I’m an agent. One of the best.”

A disgruntled groan came from behind her as people started to form a line in the tiny coffee shop. She shook Gwendolyn’s hand weakly, more concerned about how sticky hers was.

She stood in line, a newspaper with a listing of casting calls in her hand. She was busy scanning the lines and ordering her drink when the woman in front of her turned around abruptly, knocking into her. And as if her now wearing iced coffee wasn’t enough, her newspaper was soaked too.

The lines were mediocre at best, but the person reading them in front of her was duller than a one-watt lightbulb. She was better than this, than these wannabes that considered their high school renditions of West Side Story their prior acting experience. Acting was more than a hobby to her. She just needed that one break, that one chance to prove herself.