.10.

Damn Cait for re-opening the wounds of my love of a good text-based RPG!

She introduced me to Kingdom of Loathing and now I'm horribly addicted. Except the one drawback is that there's a limit to how much you can go adventuring, and everything costs a single adventure point (from resting to gain HP to killing stuff to running around a dungeon to doing certain simple tasks) and you only get 80 per session. And you can eat stuff to gain adventure points back, but only for a little while because then you are full and cannot eat more adventure points.

Arrrrgh!

So good considering I stayed up an extra hour to play and by all rights I'd be up until I have to go to work but, goddamn. I'll have to take a week off from playing just to store up adventure points and have a huge kill-a-thon later on when I have "time."

Which is such a relative term.

In the meantime, I'm not getting stuff done and I'm wasting a lot of money. Like I plan to do tomorrow as I pay someone to do laundry for me since I don't want to take the four hours to do it myself.

.Waste.ful.

.09.

So I've decided to go ahead with production of my Squider painting into an actual print and I'll try and sell them. Now I just need to figure out how many to do in the first run and how much it'll cost me.

And advertise. Lots of advertising.

I find myself wasting a lot of time, however. It's frustrating and I can't understand my inability to focus. I think a lot of it is just all these blogs and AIM and that I should possibly try to find a way to minimalize their hold on my life. Things must be done to remedy this... Multitasking is at hand!

But for now, it's almost midnight and I should possibly get myself to bed so that I have energy in the morning.

Saturday is the Dr. Sketchy figure drawing lab at the Lucky Cat in Williamsburg. Everyone should attend because it sounds like fun. Burlesque dancers, semi-nudity, art and booze. Good times and prizes will be won!

.08.

Today was just a nice day of relaxing.

I'm trying not to freak out too bad with trying to set up my future and career in the next 4 weeks, but it's really hard. There's just, so much to do. So much that needs to get done and not enough time in the day to do it in.

But that's my normal complaint.

I did go to the awesome Dick Blick store in NYC.

Art supply shopping to me is what designer shopping is to chicks. It's possibly my favorite past time in the world and I'd put myself into the poor house just so I could have every little item there. I adore art supplies. Every last one, every neat and nifty new gadget.

It shall all be mine.

I checked out some portfolios, as I'll need to purchase one in the next few days and, goddamn, they really get expensive. And like all things in life, the one that I want the most costs the most amount of money. But think of how chic I'd look with a polished, stainless steel screw-in portfolio? And I could probably also silkscreen something onto the cover for maximum awesomness. Hot. Hot. Hot.

Of course, something like that costs about $80.

What was that I said about saving up for an apartment?

I returned home to watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind for the fifty-millionth time because I am obsessed with that movie. It's the definition of my life, though I couldn't tell you whose character I relate to more. But after discussing last night my trip to Montauk last Valentine's Day to sit on a snowy beach and watch the sun rise I just needed to see it again.

It gets more beautiful every time.

I hope to one day create something that moving.

.07.

So I did go to the party.

And strangely enough, I did have fun!

I brought my friend from SVA and one of my roommates along for the ride. The three of us just had fun talking the whole way there and after we arrived and split off, things got along great too. I, in fact, met a nice boy who's an engineering major who I taught about onomonopia and the proper etiquette of stealing things. And who then I explained my desire to start up a mad scientist coalition.

Because that's something that I very much believe should be around and is necessary to the creation of actual new technologies, as opposed to just the recreation of something in existance that is only improved.

He agreed but said he wasn't the leader-of-a-mad-scientist-coalition sort. More of a right-hand man.

So the search continues!

I got to talk to old people I hadn't seen in ages as well as meet a whole lot of new ones. And there was a point of playing with slugs! The backyard got covered in slugs and this one pansy girl freaked out screaming so my SVA friend and myself set to the task of picking them up and throwing them into the bushes. Then my fingers were sticky and I was rolling slug goo off my fingers like dried glue all night. I love the creepy crawlies.

I got very drunk and after the majority of the people had left, I began my usual task of being an overbearing mother sort (though more of an 80's drunk and in a short skirt who chain-smokes mother) and helped cleaned up the place. I lost all sense of depth perception and dropped my 22oz unopened bottle of Heineken on the floor and it shattered. I then got to experience the pain that only accompanies picking up the shards, cutting my fingers and then getting beer in the wound.
My roommate had stayed around and as someone not inebriated on alcohol, helped me get back home. Such a nice boy.

Such a nice night.

.06.

The weekend of busy busy party-ness/workafuckinlot-athon is in full effect!

Thursday had required me to come into work at 9am (unheard of!) and be on my feet all day. I learned that hammers are not my friends and the valuable lesson of why a person cannot jump out of a very very tall building and be ok. The person jumping out is like my thumb after I just whacked it really hard with the hammer. A soft-skinned mass of flesh filled with blood (I got a blood blister from whacking it). Jumping, is like dropping the hammer down on this thumb the second time for the day. The result? My thumb's insides splattered across the table, much like your insides will if you jump out the building.

This has been a lesson in stating the obvious.

So anyways, after checking out my piercer's shop to drop off more silkscreened sweaters, I headed back into Manhattan to meet up with Josh and go to my favorite Thursday night ritual, 2x4. After he bought me a burger from Paul's - the best fucking burger in all of NYC for serious - we ended up trying to push his limits as a "lightweight" by serving him up a red bull with vodka, oj and vodka, a shot of Goldshlager (a liquor with flecks of gold leaf floating around in it that has an aftertaste of having chewed a huge wad of Big Red) and then a couple cans of PBR. And he calls himself a 6 cans of Guiness a night lightweight. If you think that wasn't very much, you obviously have never had my lovely friend Nikki make you drink. 2x4 ain't nothin' without her bartending.

But as all fun nights go, early into the night I started that whole menstruating thing and I knew I had enough time to finish my can of beer and stumble home before the awful cramps kicked in. So I did just that.

Friday has been helping out my friend get rid of the 500lbs of paper that currently occupies her apartment. As a teacher and writer and fellow packrack, she never let anything go, even if she had it backed up on disk or another 6 copies tossed away into another drawer. So it was my task to go through it all, throw out the unimportant stuff, set limits to how many sentimental items she should keep (I assigned her one very large drawer) and got not one single paper cut while doing it. Since her boyfriend is moving in next Friday, I also made a plan on how to rearrange her apartment to make space for his stuff, tetris style. I love OCD organization and interior design. I love playing tetris with large pieces of furniture.

And if anyone wants a sort of china cabinet-turned-bookcase with awesome claw feet made entirely of a heavy, dark and beautiful wood, you should speak now since she's about to toss it in the next few weeks and it's too gorgeous to let it just sit on the streets and rot.

After a full day of laboring over that, I came home, bought liquor for my roommates' birthday bash and then had to drag my very tired ass to Williamsburg to celebrate my friend Poingly's birthday bash. Unfortunately, my friend from earlier had given me one of her migraine pills that contained caffeine, tylenol and barbituates and they crossed with my brain chemicals to result in severe lethargy and depression. By 10pm I was ready for bed, but I hadn't even left for Brooklyn.
Josh came to my rescue to accompany me to the party, since while I know and enjoy Poingly's friends, I knew that I wouldn't be able to handle all the people who I haven't seen in about a year and the awkwardness that sometimes comes of it while I was so depressed. Mind you, it was a complete chemical thing. I was aware of this.

The way I described it to my roommates - who asked why I looked so glum - as to how I knew it's all just the pill from earlier was that, my life is awesome. I'm aware of its awesomeness. A year ago I never wanted to wake up and now I'm so afraid of not waking up that I can hardly get to sleep. Because I don't want it to stop, I don't want to miss out on everything good that's going on now and that's just going to improve by a hundred fold as time goes on. I've got the man that I love and who loves me back. And we both mean it. I have a small circle of friends who care about me deeply and who treat me like gold and it's not because I'm fucking them or that I might fuck them in the future. It's such a big change and it thrills me to no end.

But brain chemicals are weird and can make you lose sight of it.

Being on the rag doesn't help either.

So I got to the bar where the party was at, but I barely spoke to anyone and clung to Josh's side being stupid and mopey and the one beer I had was making way too drunk than it should've so I decided to just up and leave. I walked home from 1st ave and 14th street, which made me feel a little better.

I adore walking in the rain when it's dark out and muggy and humid. It reminds me of Florida and it always feels like home. It's such a comfort thing, even if the flesh is sticky and moist in the bad way. But it makes me feel like I'm wrapped in a security blanket and that everything is just completely right.

So I walked all the way home and up the stairs and contemplated sitting up on the rooftop in a puddle on the tables, but I was still in a slightly bad mood and being alone risked pushing me to a darker place. I went inside, ignored all the people still around and talked to my exboyfriend Pat on the computer for a couple hours, as he'd just returned from several weeks away in Japan. Oh the adventures he had there! It got my mind off a lot of things I've been worrying about and let me finally pass out in a sweaty pool on my bed.

And so, if you made it to this portion, that brings us to Saturday. Where I must work until 7pm and then will close up the shop on my own before walking home in yet still more humidity and rain and then contemplate going to Brooklyn or trying to get some rest. I'm just exhausted from running around since Tuesday and doing actual physical labor and not getting home until 8pm from when I left in the morning, then having to go out til after midnight and then to just wake up again that it might not be worth it.

But my friend said she really wanted me to be there. And I'm a sucker for someone who actually wants me around. Plus another friend of mine expressed interest in going, since he had classes with someone who'll be there and he'd love to get to hang out and catch up with him. So let's see how selfless I end up being tonight...

.05.

I'm growing increasingly disenchanted with the way my life seems to have to go for the next two months.

In order to enjoy my summer and make enough money for everything I want to do, plus the money for the move, it seems like I just won't have the time to budget in for getting new paintings done. Which is incredibly displeasing, to say the least.

I never wanted to be someone who has to choose making a living over doing what they wanted. I feel like there's a way to do it, but it would involve cutting off all connections (a very hard task considering that I do poorly in complete isolation and the one person whose mere presence for a few minutes can rejuvinate me is states away) as well as landing in a big ol' pile of money somehow. Or forcing my boyfriend to cover the entirety of the new apartment's start-up cost, which is incredibly unfair.

Or I could beg my parents to support me yet again, at which point I'll be at the mercy of where they want me to live and I will continue to be under their "control" and not really able to fully exert the independance that a 22-year old college graduate should be doing at this point in life.

And I can say right now that it's just until September, but honestly, I'm terrified that that won't be good enough. That I'll just keep failing and failing. I keep making excuses and I refuse to push myself and give up things. I feel greedy and selfish because of it. I feel stifled and empty inside.

I want to make my friends happy. I enjoy seeing them. But I feel like I'm taking them for granted by only seeing them when it costs me no money. I feel like once a month isn't good enough. And also, I end up feeling like going out to see them is a waste of a perfectly good afternoon and I hate that feeling the most. It cheapens our relationships by so much.

I just wish I could figure out a balance.

I wish I didn't feel like they hate me for disappearing on them when they want/need me.

But I'm one socially inept girl who values her career first and foremost and who has far too many friends than is imaginable. I can well say I have over 100 people in my life who I'd love to see more than once a year. But it's how things really just end up working out. I feel selfish for ignoring someone I haven't seen in years just because someone else wants to see me twice this month and will drive me around and pay for my meal.

I hate a lot of things right now. Most especially that tomorrow will involve going to work, dragging two very large silkscreens so that afterwards, I can bring them uptown and attempt to silkscreen three sweaters before 8pm so I can bring them over to my piercer's shop in a timely manner and then hope that my roommate will let me get to bed before 2am.

This morning was the first morning I was able to turn off my cell phone and sleep in, and I still got up by 9:30am.

And now I won't be able to do it for another week, predominantly because of social obligations.

If only travel didn't involve both money and time...

.04.

I have returned to NYC and world full of stress.

My job has picked up in intensity due to our big show up at the Affordable Art Fair in Chelsea. My co-worker Sarah has flown in from Texas and has been running herself ragged trying to get things done, while I am only moderately ragged, but I feel that I could do more. Just no one tells me what to do. It's a bit frustrating.

And while I'm contemplating picking up more hours to help my financial situation for the future (ie: the big September move) I am stressed with the August deadline coming up of GenCon, or, what I should hope to be my big portfolio break that impresses all the publishing companies and makes me rich and happy beyond my wildest dreams. Of course, it's hard to do with that only 7 paintings, one of which I consider to be sub-par, that will be at that point around 3 months old. No, I need newer and fresher works. But I'm lacking the time to do it as well as the ideas and proper reference materials. I desperately need to get my mind back in order.

Otherwise, the future is looking like: job 3-4 days a week, silkscreening jobs at least once a month to freak out over, drinking and smoking too much and being financially secure but very dull in life. With what I have going for me, I could be content with life for a year or so. But since when did I ever ask for that?

.03.

Yesturday, I got to spend a day in the life of my boyfriend.

I ended up accompanying him on one of his single-shift days at the Bar and Grill up in Massachusettes, which was quite the learning experience.

It started with a 3 mile walk through the suburbs, passing a pig farm, lots of houses, and even more trees and strip malls. This was around 10am, I believe. After we arrived with me exhausted and him still smiling and smoking cigarettes (I believe he went through at least 3 or 4 along the way while I refused any lest I lose my momentum plus I've been developing a cough and sore throat), we parted ways at the Deli; him to work and me to eat breakfast. I ate a couple of those candy cane sticks that were watermelon flavored that I haven't had since I was at least 14 or so, chocolate pudding and a vitamin water while reading the stack of newspapers on the empty table.

I love to read the newspaper simply for the local interest stories, and general stories that have absolutely no relevance to the impending doom this world is coming to. Everyone is depressed about Bush passing laws to stifle America while at the same time pushing for war with every other country, but me? I'm reading about the minister who rebuilt a boarding school in war-torn Liberia. And I can finish reading the paper with a smile on my face because someone, somewhere, did something good.

I'm a bloody ostrich sometimes, but we each have our own ways of getting through the days.

Afterwards, I wandered in circles around the stretch of land, up stairs and down ditches in this playground of retail shopping trying to find a pair of pants. I'd borrowed some old man pants off the boy because I thought it would be cold, as it had the previous two days and what brought about my sickness, and now it was almost 80 degrees and I was sweltering.

But pastel hippie skirts aren't really me.

So instead I finally hid in the bookstore, going over every book painstakingly, only to annoy the manager and buy a pencil and pen to draw with. Luckily, the boy called to say he was out of work early.

Lunch, meeting his co-workers, followed by a walk through the forest and then the 3 mile walk back...

After we returned, he even made us dinner, followed by more wonderful sex, followed by him crashing the fuck out at nine PM.

The whole day tired me out, and it wasn't even one of his full days and I wasn't even working during the time that he was. I was sitting down drinking water and reading the paper the whole period. This whole thing really got me thinking:

I couldn't do what he's doing.
I don't even know if I'd force myself to do what he's doing for the person I love.
Compared to the amazing feat that is getting through his day and getting up again for more the next, anything I bitch about for not having time, not having energy, not wanting to just get off my ass and do it is just sheer laziness.

It really motivates me to want to do more things with my time, utilize it to the fullest and make sure I stay on schedule. There's so much I need to do and I'm just not getting it done. All my personal stuff is a deadline being pushed back a month.

So I'm trying to see what I can cut out from my scheduled fun, try to wake up early and get to sleep on time, learn some discipline. And of course, start making the money so I can begin to pull my fair share in this plan.

I'm back in NY now, so I guess that's phase 1...

.02.

So today finds me in sunny Massachusettes, visiting my boyfriend Tim.

Well, technically, he's at work right now and won't be back until around 10pm. So that means that I'm just sitting around in his house and playing with the computer and his vast amount of paper and pens. I worked on a drawing that came to me as an induced mental vision Thursday afternoon and who looks quite promising as a t-shirt character that I might try to submit to Threadless.com or just create in my own studio and sell via my website. My trip out here was completely unintentional, so I lack my laptop to edit the site with. But soon... soon it will be done.

I am all at once anxious, excited, lethargic, happy and irked. It's this span of emotions that have consumed me for the past two months that we're together. Rather than just being filled with the negative emotions, this boy has kept me bipolar by filling me with positive ones, and it's entirely a good thing.

I cannot wait to see what each next day brings...

.01.

In the general tradition of blogs, this is just going to be for the more shallow updates of my own life that should be updated often and hopefully quickly. It will help me keep track of things going on so I can expound upon them later, but for the most part, be very shallow. It's a stop-in center for my friends that isn't convenient for the vast span of sites, but then again, I'm trying to minimize my usage of blogs and keep them on subject, since I range all over. This one is for friends and current events, another is for sharing stories and building up my past, another is for my artwork and yet another is for my writings while yet another is for the community.

It's insanity and it's obsessive-compulsive, but I don't care.