I'm still working through M0rt issues and had school tonight. I spent the time I would normally use for tangling or crafting emailing Craftwell customer service about M0rt.
M0rt shouldn't need a new blade every 2-3 pieces of paper (which had ultimately been my solution for the problems I've been having).
Craftwell tried telling me it is likely my file. No, it not likely my file. I sent them the simplest part of the whole project (a circle with a line from center to one edge) to test. I have simplified much of the design I have been working with when I noticed that M0rt wasn't going to be able to cut teeny, tiny circles. The skulls are not too small, or even that delicate.
We'll see what they have to say.
Considering my observation about how differently MTC behaves on a 64 bit v 32 bit operating system, perhaps there is some sort of issue with eCraftshop Pro. Tomorrow night I will do some more testing using Lappy.
I came to a realization today. I miss helping people. In any capacity. I guess if I really try to sell it, I help people make educated decisions on furniture by providing them with detailed information. Or something to that effect.
My mother-in-law told my husband last night that the kids wanted to know if I was coming for Halloween in my witch costume. (I scared a few kids last year (: ) It did make me realize I miss helping people. Whether it's kids learning or, hell, even working at human services, I feel better when I am helping others.
It really reinforced my plan to finish my Art Education degree and get my LCSW.
On another note, my Ancient Latin American Art and Architecture instructor (I'm not calling him ancient, the class is pre-colombian) finally gave a coherent lecture. We're more than half way through the semester. Most of his lectures are some rambling about some dig he went on and a lot of him pronouncing Spanish words that are so accented, it's hard to make sense of them.
Tonight he used the Ford Mustang as an illustration for stylistic seriation. It made sense. Though most of the class was very unfamiliar a 1964 1/2 Mustang, which was the jumping off point. As soon as we stopped talking about cars, it was right back to rambling.
I had some sort of profound thought I had wanted to share, but totally forgot it. What seemed profound at the time obviously wasn't.