One of my cats passed away last night. I got back from Lake George at about 1 in the morning, and once I came home I saw him sleeping on a towel outside my mother’s room. She told me how he had been acting like that for a few days, and that he might leave us soon. One of his front paws has been afflicted with a tumor for the last year or so, but he didn’t look like he was in pain. I stroked his fur one last time and went to bed.
The next day I couldn’t find him. It hit me about 10 seconds after I checked the last place he would be hiding that he must have died. I called my mom to see if that was the case, and couldn’t make it through the phone conversation without starting to weep. After she hung up I stumbled to the floor and just kept on crying. I didn’t even like the cat. Isn’t that crazy? But I couldn’t stop sobbing.
Rest in Peace Fi, I hope wherever you are that you have four legs once again.
Love’s a complicated thing, isn’t it.
Before there’s anything like love there’s a possibility. There’s potential, and whether or not it’s realized is up to you.
You might only be going on looks, because that’s all you CAN go by when you first meet someone. It’s just a chance you’re taking. And then, if you’re lucky, maybe you’ll become friends. And then, if you’re REALLY lucky, maybe you’ll fall in love with them.
There’s so little potential here. Maybe it would be horrible. Maybe it would be incredible. I’m not going to know what happens next until I say it out loud.
I failed to get into schools I could afford a total of three times now.
I got into the only one that I couldn’t.
And isn’t it ironic?
Don’t you think?
May 5th 2009 will make it a whole year.
Ever since then it’s been like an upside down bell curve.
I feel like I’m just now putting things back together.
I wonder what might have been.
It’s been a week since my operation, and I’m almost back to speed which is fantastic. People are already saying that I look a lot more rested than I have in the past, which is great: the operation was a nightmare though. For normal patients, tonsilectomies usually take about 45 minutes for both tonsils. For little ol’ me though, it took a whopping 90 MINUTES! Apparently their engorged form wasn’t the end of my oral woes: I also had a whole crapload of shit trapped behind the tonsils that was basically rotting (fuckin’ gross.) The doctor said I was really lucky I never got sick because of this: sounds like they took them out just in time! As far as I can tell, taking out my tonsils and adenoids entirely erraticated my Sleep Apnea, so hopefully this means that I can move on with my life, woohoo ( maybe.) Pain Med-Induced Me left the hospital Wednesday afternoon, when my father took me to his place for the next few days. It was a little like nostalgia really, being propped up on the couch. I don’t think I’ve been in that position since I was 12. After a few days of some serious oxycodin I started to return to normal, and I’m almost totally better now.
My computer is somehow hanging in there, but I’m guessing it’s going to give up the ghost soon. If I manage to secure some kind of a job or volunteer work by the 1st that would be really good, since then my parents will spring for a new machine for me. I’m still waiting to see whether or not I got into Western, but I think that my acceptance/rejection is going to be coming before too long. I’ll feel a lot better about things once I’m employed: I’m really really tired of not having a steady income. It was fun and kind of freeing for a while but it’s time to get back to reality. I got things I want to buy yo. Now that my sleep problems are all but fixed I think I have a shot at holding a job. I might bite the bullet and go back to cashiering. It really wasn’t that bad, and now I don’t have braces. : )
Here’s hoping I’ll get accepted into college so I can get out of this hellhole town.
Hey kiddles- yes, all 2 of you who read this blog. In case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t been using it too much, but that’s because I’m not too good at diary-esque writing. So this probably won’t feature too much of my personal musings. So what the heck am I supposed to put here?
I figure I’ll use this blog for a few things:
Expect some reviews pretty soon!
Wow, it’s been a really long time since I made an entry. I guess I don’t have a ton of motivation right now because I doubt anyone really reads this stuff, but I guess that just gives me a chance to be really raw with my entries. No need to sugar-coat things.
Art class started a week or two ago, and so far things are going pretty swimmingly. It’s the typical fare that I’m used to in terms of length and such, and drawing nude models has proven to be quite the experience. I think I’ll be learning a lot from this class.
My funds are starting to dwindle at the moment, so I’m thinking about doing $5 sketches. If you’d be interested, whoever’s reading this, check out my journal entry on matilda-caboose.deviantart.com. I’ll draw fat people if that’s what the audience wants. It seems to be working out great for Kai. : P
Other than that not much interesting going on. I’m missing people like always, but summers only…
…really far away. Damn.
10/23 “Dear Journal, today I got raped by Mr.Dink.” - Ben during a convo about Doug
10/24 “If you’re gonna kill at squirrel at least eat all of it.” - my mother
10/27 Holy crap I finally freaking finished my 40 page comic thank you baby Jesus
10/28 “wtf bitch paula at the end” - Ben talking about Fallen
11/3 “FUCK YEAH KILLED THAT ASSHOLE” - Ben talking about a fly
I’ve been unemployed for about 1.5 years, and out of school for 7 months, and if you’ve ever seen a bell graph it’s been a lot like that. The only thing I really take solace in is the fact that I’ve spent this time drawing: my one true, raw passion. If all I did was sit around and watch TV, then I would be a COMPLETE failure, right? At least I’m creating, right? Even if it doesn’t mean anything in the long run, I like to think it’s better than nothing.
Maybe I was wrong to leave my school and my job. When I first left I felt like I was free of some terrible burden that I was so much better than and that I was meant for bigger and better things. It happened for every other person in my family, why wasn’t it working for me? But now that my ambitions have all fallen flat, it feels like everything I’ve done was just one big mistake. I put too much hope into my rickity plans and, like I should have guessed, they fell apart. Rarely do I feel like I’ve completely, 100% wasted my time, but now is one of those times. I’ve wasted 7 long months doing nothing.
Maybe drawing will never work out for me. I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. I’ve already accepted that I’m destined to be poor no matter what I do, because the things I love to do aren’t worth anything compared to important things like being a doctor or a lawyer. As much as I hate it, nothing I say or do can ever change that. I almost wish my path WAS set out for me so I had something to follow and latch on to, no matter how wrong or hollow it is. I wish I had expectations from other people so I could make, at the very least, SOMEONE happy, even if it’s not me. What I want doesn’t even have a name. I don’t wanna be a police officer or a pediatrician or an engineer, all I want to do is draw. I’m sure I could be happy with just that, as Anne Frank said, “if only there were no other people in the world.”
I’m glad I’m not an only child because I’m afraid of failing my parents, but at least now if I do they have a bunch of other bright shining stars to be proud of. That’s what it’s come to: that level of comfort is what I need just to keep from giving up.
I guess that I’ve caught up with the rest of the “in” crowd now that I finally got a tumblr account. Let’s hope that I use this thing more than I used my old LiveJournal ( about once a year. ) Judging by how easy this is, I get the feeling I’ll be sticking with it.
This year has been like a rollercoaster, and I’m pretty sure my emotions have run the gambit by now. Just this past 2 weeks has sent me on a proverbial loop-the-loop: I chopped off all my hair ( I’d been growing it since Febuary 2007 ), I reconnected with someone I thought I had lost, I gave up smoking after a year and a half and I found, after what felt like a lifetime, someone that really makes me happy. So maybe it’s a mix of good and bad, eh? All that matters is I feel like I’m moving somewhere. I’m in the middle of a massive job search and am still dealing with the loss of my chance to go to Art School, but things are finally starting to look better after what seemed like an Age of Darkness.
While we’re on the subject of self-improvement, I think that I’ve finally come to terms with some of my issues on rejection and failing, at least to a certain degree. For the last week or so I’ve been working my ass off on my Funfest comic, and I have to say that at this point, I don’t even care if I win or not. I know, that sure doesn’t sound like me, does it? So often it seems like I’m the “go big or go home!” type, but I think about it this way. If I don’t win, so what? It might hurt, but it’s so stupid to hold it against someone else or even yourself. The point is, someone DID win, and knowing how good that feels should be enough. Whether I win anything or not isn’t phasing me, because already I feel like this is the best work that I’ve ever done. I finally know what it really means to pour yourself onto a piece of paper. When I’m working, I just get into this trance where nothing matters but me and what I’m creating, and I love that more than anything.
I have to admit, this whole thing started out as a sure-fire way for me to try and bring home the gold; to beat my competition at any cost. I thought, “Geez, a huge comic would win for sure! It sure worked for Kenisu,didn’t it? I could do that too!” That feeling of thinking I had it in the bag…that was the drive that fueled my late nights chugging away at these pieces of artwork, and up until October 2007 it had worked. That was the year I went down in flames. Before I knew it, everything I thought I could do was no longer good enough and I pulled a Faith Hill, cursing the judges that hadn’t given me the recognition I was convinced I deserved.
Looking back, my piece was good, but it didn’t win beacuse it didn’t deserve to win. It was an advancement for myself in my artwork, and now I’m happy with that. All I want to do is keep drawing. I don’t care how much you like it or what I win. I just want to keep drawing.
Of course I’ll be delighted if I win, but I’m no longer looking at this whole thing as a big rat race with winners and losers. No matter what happens, doing this has helped me grow as an artist, and that’s better than any prize those judges could throw at me.
tl;dr, I’m awesome and I draw stuff
