My Brains Are Oatmeal…

No, they’re not delicious or nutritious… or topped with berries and honey. Don’t get any bright ideas, zombies…

Way back in the day (I shudder when I think how far back), Mötley Crüe guitarist Mick Mars used that in as an opening in an article about himself. As soon as I read that one simple sentence, “My brains are oatmeal,” I knew it was a statement I was going to be using for a long time. Similarly, I also use a quote from Kelly Nickels, bass player from L.A. Guns: “You can pick your friends and you can pick your nose, but you can’t wipe your friends under the couch.” Yeah, I don’t know… My high school years, the years of hair bands, was a bit… weird.

But I didn’t gather you all here today (all, what, one or two of you?) to date myself by telling you how old I was when I was listening to these bands… I got a bit sidetracked as I’m apt to do. Then again, the purpose for my blog was to be random, which it kind of hasn’t been except for spots here and there within posts. That’s sad… I’ve really drifted from my original intent of this blog. Instead it seems to have become a log of how fucked up my life can be sometimes, how badly my brain turns against me with my depression and anxiety, and pretty much a timeline of my mental illness spiraling out of control. Whee! Isn’t that fun?! Listen, if you think reading about someone’s mental decline is fun, you need to get out more… Nah, I’m kidding… Actually, I poke fun at myself from time to time. If I didn’t laugh, I’d cry. And I guess it helps those of you who also suffer to feel like you’re not alone in this. I find that helpful to know myself.

But back to the point of my brains being oatmeal…

I was hoping that, when the big thing I was stressing was over, I would be able to get back to normal. I was hoping that my artistic block would magically be lifted and I would be creating like there was no tomorrow.

No such luck… It’s not for my lack of trying, mind you. I’d get this desire to draw, so I’d get myself set up and, in the end, I’d set myself up for failure. I’d get the desire to work on one of my stories, write a few sentences and it all went downhill afterward. Hell, I couldn’t even write a blog entry again. It’s like my brain is a computer that’s being denied access to the creativity center.

No… that’s not quite right… It’s more like, when I try to access my creative center, I get the 404: Not Found message. Yup, it seems my creativity has set up a firewall that I can’t seem to get around. And the more road blocks and denied access that I encounter, the more frustrated and depressed I feel. I’m finding that I’m calling myself stupid, worthless, untalented… You name it and I’ve referred to myself as such lately. I know it’s the depression talking, but it’s still not very fun. I’m sure a lot of you can relate… Perhaps I shouldn’t be weaning off my meds, but I find I’m less creative when I’m happy, so it’s kind of a double-edged sword, you know…? Or maybe I’m just making excuses.

Lately I’ve been looking back at some of my older drawings and thinking, “Jesus Christ, look at all the things that are wrong with this drawing! I can do better!” And then I try to do better and… Well, it just doesn’t turn out as planned. And I don’t have the ability to use some of the same programs I used to because Mac doesn’t support them and the new versions are so not what I’m looking for. And then there’s the price increase… Plus some of my programs aren’t supported by Mac at all (thanks, Paint Tool SAI) and I refuse to go back to using Windows.

But something has got to give, here…

I’ve been so depressed because I can’t create. Literally, creating is my life. If I can’t do that for whatever reason, I beat myself up and then I lose interest in all else. Like the other day, for example… I’ve been so uninspired that I haven’t been practicing my guitar because I know I’ll screw up too much in my current frame of mind. And I’ve been thinking of giving it up because I’m just finding no pleasure in it. Or anything else for that matter… So I spend my days playing my Animal Crossing game for a short time and the rest of my day I lay here like I’m one with the sofa watching Dr. fucking Phil or movies all damn day. And sometimes the movies are so relatable that they make me feel worse…

However, in the darkest of times, something usually comes along to lift my spirits a bit.

Last night I was looking for something to watch and saw Turner Classic Movies was showing Arsenic And Old Lace! That’s one of my favorite movies to watch when I need a good laugh, so I put it on.

For those unfamiliar, the movie follows the story of Mortimer Brewster, a critic who is against marriage but actually tied the knot on the day of these events. When he goes to tell his two aunts, the sweetest old spinster women you ever saw, he learns they’ve been killing lonely old gentlemen with no family with poisoned elderberry wine and burying them in the basement with the aid of a nephew who thinks he’s Teddy Roosevelt digging the Panama Canal. They’re very casual about it, too. “Oh, a Methodist! Well isn’t that nice!” said so sweetly as if they weren’t discussing their latest victim. This causes Mortimer more than a little upset (you can imagine) and he starts acting a bit looney as he tries to cover up the crimes of his aunts. Add to this Mortimer’s criminally insane brother, Johnathan and his questionable companion Dr. Einstein (who also have a dead body to dispose of) and it turns into quite a dark, comedic piece of classic cinema. I just have to laugh at the aunts and their casual approach to murder. It’s a very comical film I highly recommend if you’re ever down and need a good laugh.

In any case, I feel like my art supplies will just be sitting around collecting dust until I start to feel like my old self again. If that ever happens…

I’ve actually been in a block for over 5 years! Oh, I come out with something now and again, but I’ve really been doing poorly all that time. Sometimes I worry that my creativity has completely dried up. Other times I still have a small glimmer of hope that I may get my shit together and start creating again. I suppose anything is possible…

The Goodbye Girl…

Please excuse the old, awful piece of my art I chose for today. It’s actually a cover I did for a short story I wrote. Trust me, how she’s feeling fits the theme. Bear with me a moment…

Anyway… A few days ago, I completely lost my shit. AGAIN…?! Yes, again… I’m beginning to see this as a pattern right now. In any case, I just flipped out and deleted some of my social media. My Instagram accounts are gone (I think, I’m not sure as it was a difficult process), one of my deviant art accounts is gone and the other I announced I would be deleting. I also announced I was deleting my Facepuke account.

Funny thing, that… When I deleted all my pictures and posted that I wanted to sell all my art supplies, I got a total of 4 replies, mainly asking why. One person was so beside herself and told me to PM her. But I didn’t go back on Facepuke for well over a week. You’d think that since she didn’t hear from me, she would have PM’d me, but she didn’t. So I guess she wasn’t that concerned, huh? That was when I literally said, “Fuck this shit.” I posted the announcement that I was deleting my Facepuke. That was when several others came out of the woodwork (still nothing from that “concerned” person), all of them telling me they hoped I was okay, sending healing vibes and such. One actually PM’d me to say she was sending positive, healing vibes. I wish that was enough…

Ugh, more of my very old art… This one was inspired by the song and video for “Voices Carry” by ‘Til Tuesday. I love when she finally loses her shit and starts yelling at the abusive dickhead to shut up…

This is just part of how I’ve been feeling lately. If I could just stand up in the middle of a huge theater packed with people and start yelling, “Shut up, Oh God can’t you keep it down?” At this point, I’m not sure I’d be yelling it at any people in particular…

I think I’d be yelling that at the voice inside my head…

Ah yes, those lovely intrusive thoughts… The ones that tell me I’m not good enough, not as an artist or a person. The ones that tell me I’m worthless, have no friends and no one would miss me if I was gone. Those are nothing new, really… What is new is the voice that keeps reminding me that I’ve reached that age where I feel there’s more of my life behind me than in front of me. That’s a scary thought… And it’s not one you want invading your brain, let me tell you. So if I could yell at my thoughts to shut up and freak out like she did in the video, I would.

Of course that could lead to me having a nice, long stay in a padded room. So I just silently yell and freak out on my brain. How’s that working for me…? Not too good…

When I was a young, one of my favorite bands (for some reason) was Missing Persons. Not that many or any of you know who the fuck they were. I wouldn’t say they were really popular and you’ve probably never heard of them unless you lived through the 80s: bad hair, ugly clothes, fuck tons of Aquanet and all…

I happened to see the video of my favorite of their songs while on YouTube, “Destination Unknown“. I loved this song so much. I think it was because I found it so relatable then. So I listened to it and I realized something… I still find it relatable to this day!

The thing is, they were right… Life is so strange. Anything can change and then you have no idea where the fuck you’re going to. I’d say that, perhaps, Dale Bozzio was in the midst of some identity crisis at the time. But, chances are, she was just weird… The woman once wore an outfit made from clear vinyl and tubing for a fishing tank… I know it was the 80s and women were coming into their own, but that’s just a weird idea of how to dress (hence why one video is kind of blurry except close ups). But despite her weird hair and piss poor choices in clothing, the song was great and a reminder to everyone that we’re not alone in losing our way from time to time and that it’s scary.

And, apparently, I don’t know about myself, either…

A few nights ago, when I was having one of my weepy moments, I decided to go shopping to pick myself up again. That’s when I happened to see this book…

The title was pretty intriguing. 1000 Things You Don’t Know About Me... I flipped through some pages and thought it sounded good, so I bought it. I don’t know why… I suppose I felt compelled to.

When I got it home, I began going through and following the writing prompts (they begin a sentence and you finish it). Now I think it should be titled 1000 Things I Didn’t Know About Myself… Seriously, some of these questions are kind of difficult for me to answer and I really have to put some thought into it. “My biggest weakness is…”, “The best way to get me to open up is…”, “My personality has been favorably compared to…” (it hasn’t been). The one I had most difficulty with so far was, “One of my biggest influences has been…” I don’t fucking know! What kind of question is that?! So I did some thinking and realized that my late uncle was. He died when I was only 3, so I only have one clear memory of him (which isn’t all too clear). My mom has always told me stories about him, things he did, what he was like, what a good artist he was… And she always told me she wished he was still here because she thought he would have understood me. She was forever telling me he liked me best because I “marched to your own drummer”. So, when I thought about it, I realized he was a huge influence. That’s why I’ve always made sure to remain an individual, because that seemed important to him. It was important to me, too. And I think he’s the reason why.

This book is really helping me put things into perspective…

I’ve been having a moment because I don’t know who the fuck I am anymore. And you want to know something? I don’t think I do anymore… Then, all of a sudden, I go shopping for a few things and happened to go down the aisle this book happened to be in and it just happened to catch my eye. The universe knew I needed it, I guess.

Since I’ve been having to finish these sentences, filling in the blanks for want of a better term, about my life and things people don’t know about me, I’ve been having to do some soul searching and learning things about myself in the process. It seems to be settling me down, to a point… I’m having to really examine me, who I am, and my life. Am I learning things about who I am? You bet! So I guess it was worth the $8 I paid for it, huh…?

And then there was yesterday…

I had been out and came home to find that something of a racial war was taking place in the hood I live in… I knew assholes lived here, but this guy takes the cake.

So this one asshole, who the cops said is an issue in the neighborhood, decided to go off his meds, get drunk and cut an American flag my neighbor’s son had on the back of his truck in half and burned it in the street. Vandalism for sure, but it didn’t stop there. He started harassing my neighbor’s son, then began harassing her, telling her to call her husband outside (he wasn’t home, he was at work). Well, the asshole kept harassing them, so she called the cops (and he just kept harassing until the cops arrived). He was even harassing a neighbor who came to help mine! Well, the cops came and did whatever they did and left. Then my neighbor’s husband showed up… Good thing I was outside yet. It took her, her son and me to try and keep him from going down and beating the fuck out of this asshole. I especially took offense to the fact that the asshole called us all racist. I have no idea where that came from as we all have friends and neighbors we talk to in the hood that are Hispanic as well as black. He accused us of burning crosses on lawns… What the actual fuck, dude?! I hate to tell him, but he doesn’t know me and, if he did, he’d know I’m friends with my black neighbors (one of whom shares weed on occasion because he’s just cool that way) as well people of all races in this hood and elsewhere. Assholes come in all colors… That’s just how I see it. I don’t care what color you are. If you’re an asshole to me, you’re an asshole, plain and simple. Color has nothing to do with it.

I had to leave after the drama died down to go for yet another root canal (this was the second in just a few week’s time). I grow tired of root canals… I think this was my 7th or 8th? I don’t know. I’ve always had very soft enamel, so I was more prone to cavities and, unfortunately, root canals. I also have very long roots (so far the top two were 28mm!) so I need to go to a specialist to get them done and they can sometimes cause discomfort.

But I salvaged the day by the end, anyway… My friend’s neighbor had sold me a bunch of very old records. I went to pay him yesterday and he had even more to give me! And were there some gems in that box! Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon, which is as old as I am, and it looks like they never played it! I also got a beautiful Chicago album (older than me, thank you very much) that was a mint condition, double album set. It came with a poster… that was still in it! I got so many great records that were mint condition! I literally sat on the floor and went through every record to see how they looked and I was beside myself with joy! How can you not love vinyl?

I also got a few other things he was selling that were right up my alley, mostly Star Wars stuff. So at least I had a good end to an otherwise dramatic and stressful day!

Are You Lonely In The Dark…?

Thanks to Billy Squire for today’s title… Funny, I don’t think I realized how much I relate to the lyrics of his song “In The Dark” until now. I’m not sure that’s a good thing…

Yesterday I was playing the latest game I got for my Nintendo Switch, Miitopia. It’s a weird game… You’re a traveler who goes on a quest to defeat The Dark Lord who is stealing people’s faces and putting them on monsters (so the monsters obey him). You get to pick a job and get special powers from “divine intervention” and gain more traveling companions to help you defeat the monsters and give the people of Miitopia their faces back, eventually having to find and defeat The Dark Lord. Yeah, it’s weird… but it’s fun. Anyway, when I was playing yesterday, the lights went out and my poor Mii was left in the dark, not knowing what direction to turn in. Well, if that didn’t sum up my life right now… I’m not going to lie, it freaked me out a bit that a fucking video game knew me… There my little mage Mii was, asking where everyone went, looking back and forth all alone and confused… I got to chose the direction she wandered in and chose the wrong direction, smacking into one of the other Miis in the dark (he was pretty mad I did).

I know that sounds sad that a weird video game got me thinking, but it really did…

This is exactly how I’ve been feeling lately. I’ve been feeling like I’m in a dark place: lost, confused and, worst of all, alone and directionless… So now what? Like my little mage Mii, here, I suppose I’ll have to choose a direction to turn in. But… what if I chose poorly? That’s a good possibility since I couldn’t even choose the right direction for my Mii to turn in and she smacked into another Mii who got pissed at her. Seriously, he yelled at my Mii to watch where she was going. To which I snapped at my game, “Fuck you, Tamahome! Like I knew you were there!” You know you’re in trouble when you’re talking to Miis you made up to look like anime characters… But back to the subject… I’ve been here in this dark place with all these feelings of doubt and confusion, feeling completely alone, without direction. And I need to choose a direction… What if I choose poorly? How do I know what’s right for me?!

I’ve actually been trying to stay away from decision making lately. Seriously, I have zero decision making skills at the moment… Do you know how long I left my Mii looking back and forth?! I had two choices, look to the left or look to the right. How hard a decision is that to make, anyway?! It’s not, really… It’s not like I had an overabundance of choices, I had fucking two… And I swear it took me several minutes to make a choice and it turned out to be the wrong one. That really drove home the fact that I probably shouldn’t make any decisions right now. Mainly because I’m having difficulty in doing it.

Unfortunately, I can’t avoid making decisions forever…

Eventually, I have to figure out what I’m going to do with my Facebook… In my irrational, impulsive state, I deleted all my pictures except for a few of my pets, some stupid quiz results, a photo of one of my violets (my current profile picture) and a photo of a Mars landscape (my current banner picture). Oh, I could put back all the pictures I deleted… But the thing is, I’m not sure I want to…

Why put my art back up when no one seems to like it? It’s just asking for more disappointment and discouragement. I think I have enough of that already without my fake friends. Like every other person who is artistically inclined, I am my own worst critic. I watched a video on YouTube (made by an artist) telling you what you’re doing wrong with your art. And you know what all of us are doing wrong? We’re listening to that stupid little voice in our own heads that’s telling us we’re not good enough. On top of that, we’re listening to assholes who tell us our work sucks (though there aren’t a lot of them, really) and we’re trying to measure up to other artists or are trying to emulate them. They’re all great points, honestly. The problem with this is that it’s not so easy to put this advice into practice. You can’t help but compare yourself to those more successful than yourself and you can’t help but listen to anything or anyone telling you you’re not good enough.

Aww, my Mii and the Mii of my one character having lunch…

And then there are the pictures of myself, all of which I deleted…

Not only did I delete the self portraits I made, but I deleted photos of myself as well. Every… single… fucking… one.

It wasn’t without reason… Honestly, I’ve been in such a dark place that I’ve literally grown to hate myself more than I ever have before. I feel like I have no worth at all. I mean nothing to no one. I could disappear off the face of the planet right now and no one would miss me. So in my irrational, impulsive state, I decided that I was pretty much going to erase myself, at least in that aspect…

Honestly, if I could, I would erase myself, to a point…

If I could, I would go somewhere that people don’t know me and have never heard of me. I’d start my life over as a new person, maybe the type that people actually like to be around and find to be good company. Maybe I could be a bit more popular and not just a weird, crazy bitch everyone tries to avoid at all cost. But, even if I moved far away and started over fresh, it wouldn’t work. No matter what, I’m still me… That’s something I can’t run away from by changing my name, moving far away to a new place… You might be able to change what you project to people but, deep down, you’re still the same you…

However, when I’ve gone through issues with my identity, I’ve done things to sort of “reinvent” myself…

Mind you, these were never big things I’ve done. Once, when I was in that identity funk, I went out and got my ears pierced a third time. Ooh, how daring… Actually, it kind of was because my one ear got infected from that shit they give you to clean your piercing. It’s happened three times in the same ear. Weird…

Most of the time when I feel the need to “reinvent” myself, I’ll get my hair colored. I don’t do bold cuts because I have naturally curly, frizzy hair, so most styles don’t work for me. But color? Yeah, I can change that. I’ve been purple for a few years, now, and I like it, so I’m sticking with it. Sometimes I change my wardrobe, the style of clothes I wear. Both can get costly, but it’s a nice way to “reinvent” myself without running off to places unknown.

Sometimes I try to change aspects of my personality that I don’t like. Once I tried to be more cheerful and upbeat, be happy. That didn’t last long… I hated being that happy. I wanted to smack the shit out of myself because it was annoying…

In the meantime, I’ll have to satisfy myself with some minor changes…

If you’re on my blog page reading this, you’ll notice I changed the background and header images. I’m not sure I’m happy with them, but they’ll do. For now… Give me a few weeks of looking at them and I’m sure I’ll grow dissatisfied and say “fuck it”. I’ll change it to something else that, inevitably, I won’t like either. That’s just how it seems to be for me lately. I’m not satisfied with anything.

So, until I figure out what the fuck I want to do, which direction I want to turn, I’ll just be stuck here, all alone, in the dark…

This isn’t a really good place to be…

By George, I Think I’ve Got It!

So I’ve been struggling with this identity crisis for some months now, being terrified because I don’t know who the fuck I am anymore. This morning, I think I finally figured it out…

I’m Kim Carnes!

Hahahaa… I’m kidding. Well, sort of…

Yesterday I had a lot to do and spent my day running here, there, every fucking where. And when I walked out to my car, I immediately knew this was not going to end well… My car was still red, but the roof was this sickly yellow-green color. Literally, the pollen was so thick on top of my car that you couldn’t tell it was red if that was the only part you looked at. That’s an aggressive amount of pollen! I swear I used the entire reservoir of windshield wiper fluid trying to get the damn thing clean and, when I finally had, it looked like someone pissed down the sides of it because of the now watered down pollen. I knew this wasn’t going to bode well…

And I was right… After being out all day and being exposed to a metric shit ton of pollen, I woke up this morning and found my voice was all raspy and squeaky. This was more evident when I tried to sing this morning, as I sometimes do to relieve some anxiety. Oh, it was bad… Then I thought, “Let’s try something…” I started singing that song “Bette Davis Eyes” and I sounded just like the raspy Kim Carnes. This morning, that’s who I am, haha! But I’m not too worried… I took allergy pills and I’m drinking hot coffee. I should sound normal soon.

An older self portrait when I knew who I was…

But back to the subject… I’ve really been struggling lately. I thought I had it all figured out and suddenly realized I didn’t know shit about who I was anymore. And the longer this drug on, the worse I felt.

Then I ended up having a chat with someone a bit younger than me who told me I would always be who I was, that I would always be (insert horrible given name here). It must be nice to be young and never having experienced an identity crisis… I’ve been having the off and on forever, but this one is by far the worst. It’s difficult to explain to those who have never experienced one exactly how terrifying that can be. We all feel comfortable with ourselves when we know who we are. Take that away, and we tend to freak the hell out. It’s something you just can’t out into words, really… And it’s a bit naive of this person to think that we just stay the same people year after year, though I can’t judge them harshly for it. That’s what a lot of young people think. But wait… it could be coming for you… And, when it does, you’ll feel just as lost and alone. You’ll be screaming, but no one will hear you because they just don’t fucking get it. Isn’t that a fun thought for today…?

I was so upset and down on myself after my last entry that I did something rather drastic…

As I mentioned last time, I worked so hard on a drawing of a character from a story I’m writing. I put so much love and care into him (because I had that particular affection for him) and I think it’s the best work I ever did. And then only 3 people liked it, one of which was not my “encouraging” friend, Greta. I really began to see that I really didn’t have many friends and that some of the ones I thought were good friends I could turn to really weren’t. I was livid! And hurt… So I did something drastic…

I went onto my Facepuke page and literally deleted 90% of my stuff. I wish I could say I was kidding… I removed entire albums, starting with the one that contained my artwork. I deleted a few others as well because I saw no point in going through the slow process of weeding out the pictures I didn’t want or because they were of no real value anyway. I even deleted pictures of myself and any stupid quiz I took that had my self portraits in them. It was like I literally erased myself. Then I made a post that I was looking to sell all my art supplies, message me if interested. My one friend did message me to ask if I was okay. I told her not really, no, but I wasn’t ready to talk about it, I needed to get shit in my head straight first. She said exactly the right thing. She told me she would be there when I was ready. I also got a text from Greta’s husband asking why and telling me I was so good… Really, fucker? I guess that’s why you don’t ever like the drawings I put up, either! Thanks for making it worse. Morticia called twice, but I didn’t answer… I just didn’t want to get into a discussion that would lead to my being brow-beaten. I don’t need that shit.

So yesterday, I’m driving down to an appointment, listening to the tunes from my phone that I had hooked up to the stereo and that old song “Jackie Blue” happened to come on. I think it was the universe trying to tell me something…

Any of you who have been following me a while may recall the story of the guy who was interested in me and, when he found out it wasn’t requited, he literally yelled at me, “You know what? You are ‘Jackie Blue’!” I wasn’t insulted… I knew, even back then, that I was like this fictitious girl. But, over the years, I had thought little of it because I thought I wasn’t like that girl anymore. But, when it poured out of my car speakers, I realized… I have been and always will be Jackie Blue. The stupid thing is, I’m not exaggerating. Everything they say about that girl in the song speaks volumes when it comes to my personality and it always has. So I guess I’ve always known who I was. I just lose sight of her from time to time.. All I know is that, after hearing that song yesterday, it was like I had an epiphany and saw things so much clearer. For the moment, anyway… I hope it stays that way.

Off topic (sort of), I had made a Starbucks run yesterday to get another one of their strawberry funnel cake Frappucinos. If you haven’t had one, go get one, like yesterday! It’s like heaven!

Anyway… While I was in Starbucks, I heard this familiar song come on the radio there. I immediately recognized it and also recognized it was a remake. I hate remakes 99% of the time and this one made the top of the “this song SUCKS” list. The song was a remake of “Strawberry Letter 23” by The Brother’s Johnson. It was awful! And, with me being so loud and opinionated when it comes to music, I couldn’t help but say aloud, “Oh my god, this is the worst version of ‘Strawberry Letter 23 I’ve ever heard!” Seriously, it was… It was like this frou-frou pop shit! Where was the early 1970s funk sound that made that song…?! Nowhere! And, of course, I got this weird look from the 20-somethings that were also there waiting for coffee. Hey, unless you’ve actually heard the original, keep your dirty looks to yourselves and go listen to real music. Bunch of assholes…

Well… it kinda helps hide the ugly, right?

In any case… To help with my identity crisis, I’ve been working on a few home improvements, even if they’re just band-aids, to help lift my spirits the past few weeks.

Like this, for instance… I literally have the worst deck in probably the entire neighborhood. Because I have a creek in the backyard, the deck is perpetually getting coated in a slimy green moss and the wood is starting to rot. I’m sure it doesn’t help that it’s probably the original deck they put on when the house was built in 1983… Unfortunately, I don’t have the means to rebuild it at the moment. Right now, the price of lumber is sky high. I’d be better off going out and chopping down trees and processing them myself. So I did the next best thing. I bought a deck rug (and incorporated some help to lay it down) to help hide the ugly and the rot. I also bought new tiles to replace the broken ones in the table top. I bought hanging flower baskets and the little toad succulent planter on the tablet help liven things up a bit. I also cleaned the table and chairs as best I could without a power washer or at least a hose… I think it looks fairly nice. And, with the lights I strung up last year, I have a really nice place to spend warm evenings. It made me feel rather accomplished. Yesterday, I decided to try and organize my dining room as best I could. It looks so much better and made me feel a little better than I’ve been feeling. It’s amazing what shit like that can do for your outlook.

But, for today, I’m just going to flop my ass in front of the TV and watch Dr. fucking Phil all day… I feel miserable after being out yesterday.

They say pollen counts are at an all time high. I’d believe it! From being stuck in our homes in lockdown for so long, the Earth has had time to heal somewhat. And, while I’m glad for that, I’m not thrilled about there being a metric shit ton of pollens all over the fucking place. And I’m allergic to every one of them. So between running all over the place and the pollens yesterday, I’m feeling washed out and miserable. Today needs to be a vegetable day, I think…

On the bright side, after this weekend, I should be able to go most places mask free! Yay! As of yesterday, I’m officially fully vaccinated (it was two weeks since my second shot)! Granted, I’m sill not exactly sure that I trust the vaccine and I have no idea what long term effects it may have on me (fingers crossed it won’t have any), but the ability to walk around and go places without a mask sounds so amazing!

I’m done with the mask shit, honestly… Ever since we had to start wearing them, my asthma has been worse and so have my poor sinuses. They don’t filter out shit anyway, especially pollens. So they get trapped in the mask and I’m breathing them in all the time. No wonder a lot of us are feeling like ass lately! But have faith, dear readers… I think our mask wearing days may soon come to an end! Woo-hoo!

There’s Not Enough Calgon And Xanax In The World…

I have a feeling there are some of you who read this title and asked yourselves, “What the fuck does that mean?!” And, unless you’re on the older side like me, it’s no wonder…

Back in the 70s and 80s (yikes), there were these commercials for Calgon bath products. You’d see some seriously stressed out woman, usually a mom with several rowdy kids, who would lose her marbles and call out, “Calgon, take me away!” Next thing you know, she’s whisked away into a nice hot bubble bath full of relaxing Calgon. That was their gimmick… Calgon was so relaxing that you’d be spirited away to this huge, beautiful bathroom where all your stresses would melt away in a tub full of their bath products.

I can’t tell you how many times, when I was really stressed, that I myself have said, “Calgon, take me away!” Guess what… Yeah, you know what… I had to draw my own bubble bath in my standard size tub in my small bathroom. I’m guessing the almighty Calgon gods were asleep on the job every time I’ve said that… And, over the years, whenever I’ve been more than a little stressed out, I eventually started saying, “There’s not enough Calgon and Xanax in the world to take me far the fuck enough away.” That’s how I’ve been feeling lately. I’ve been under a lot of stress, losing my shit completely. It would take a whole bottle of Calgon and a whole bottle of Xanax and I’d still be wound tighter than a spring at the moment. It’s just been a rough couple of months…

What’s worse is that, when I’m really stressed out, the creativity center of my brain just shuts the fuck down…

And when I say it shuts the fuck down, I mean I don’t even have enough creativity to figure out what I want to eat for dinner let alone try to draw, paint or write anything. Hell, it’s been so bad, I haven’t had enough creativity to make a blog entry and have scrapped probably a half dozen over the last several weeks. This is more than a dry spell. This is a fucking disaster…

Which brings me back to my identity crisis… Here I am, probably more than halfway through my life (none of us knows how long we’re going to live after all) and I literally have nothing to show for it. What have I done with my life?! Worked a ton of shitty, low paying, dead end jobs? Made a few drawings and paintings, written a few shitty short stories that mean nothing to anyone?! Yeah, that’s what I’ve done… And now I feel too old to do anything special with my life. I don’t know why that’s so important to me. There are a lot of people who are content to live their lives working the same, meaningless job the majority of their lives. They may get married and have a family… And that’s enough for them. They’re perfectly happy if that’s all they ever did with their lives and have no regrets. But I’m not one of those people… I need to feel like I’ve made something of myself and that just hasn’t happened. And I highly doubt that it ever will, unfortunately…

Don’t piss on my parade and call it rain…

I’ve been so down, my mother has been very encouraging lately (it only took her nearly half a century to do so) and my one friend, we’ll call her Greta, has been trying to act like my own personal cheerleader, pointing out that I should get off my duff and do something with my work, that it’s never too late. In fact, Greta was incredibly supportive. It’s as if she knew exactly what I needed to hear. No matter what it is I want to do, fucking do it! If I want to paint, then paint! If I want to play my piano, then play! Just get off my fucking duff, motivate and do it! Sounds easy in theory, doesn’t it? It’s really not…

Still… whatever she said much have gotten through. Several days later, I was suddenly inspired to draw. I’m not sure what kicked me in the head and brought the idea to mind, but something sure in the fuck did. So I sat down with my laptop and my Wacom tablet and I sketched out the concept. I was happy with the sketch, so I decided to start coloring and shading. Sometimes, when I reach that point, things start going downhill and I realize that it doesn’t look as good in color as it did in the sketch, so I either try to make the best of it or scrap it. But not this time… This time, for some reason, it was turning out so good it was scaring me. I don’t think I’ve ever put so much love and detail into a drawing as I did this one. I had no idea that I could do shading that good! I was so proud of the finished product, I couldn’t wait to post it to my Facepuke. That’s when things went bad… Do you know how many people liked it? All of 3… It’s not surprising; I usually get very few likes on my work. But this time it was quite devastating. I was so proud of the work I did. Not now… So I guess I’ll have to thank them for pissing on my parade…

So here it is, my once shining moment…

He’s a character from a “novel” I’m working on currently. I actually started working on this story when I was in my early 20s (when I still had hopes, dreams and ambitions) and this is how I’ve always envisioned him. Hey, that was well over 20 years ago, guys still had long hair… Anyway… I actually stole some of his looks from someone famous and melded those features in my mind into this. I think he’s pretty nice looking, if I do say so myself. And I have a certain… affection… for this character, so I wanted to make it look like an old photo. I put so much love and care into creating this, which is why I did shading I didn’t know I could do and amazed myself. I literally felt giddy when I was done. Then Facepuke happened… 3 likes (Greta wasn’t even one of them) and that was it. I’m so downhearted that I don’t know that I’ll ever create again. What’s the point? Obviously no one likes my work, so it’s not going to get me anywhere in life. I fucking give up…

So I suppose that’s it, right…?

I’ve just been kidding myself all these years… I’m no artist, no writer. Hell, I’m not even a musician. Sure, I can play the piano and I’m learning the guitar, but I just don’t seem to have the dexterity to do play like others do and probably never will. I’ve been so down on myself that I actually canceled last week’s guitar lesson because I just couldn’t face the day. And I obviously only have fair weather friends, if that. That’s fucking pathetic.

I just don’t know who and where I am in life right now… Every time this happens, I try to reinvent myself into the person I’d like to be, but that’s kind of difficult to do when you’re still living in the same town in bumble-fuck. Sure, I can change my hair, my style, my attitude… I’ve even decided to change my name. Jackie isn’t my real name because I’ve always hated my real name and it never seemed to suit me. Jackie seems more like me… But changing your name legally where I live is a pain in the ass. Besides, if I can’t get anyone to use that name, what’s the fucking point? I’ll still be referred to as the person I’ve always been. That’s depressing…

So that’s where I’m at…

I’m confused as to who I am, severely depressed and feeling very much like a failure. And I don’t seem to have any real friends, not even the ones that I thought were my real friends. I can’t even change myself because people don’t want to accept the fact that I don’t want to be this person anymore. I want this unsatisfying life to end and start over again in a new place as a new person, as Jackie.

But that won’t work… I need to face facts. I can change my hair, my style… I can change my name, move to another place… It doesn’t matter. I’ll still be me. I can run as much as I want to, but I’ll still keep running into myself.

I should really get in the habit of meditating again… It does help, but when I get in these moods, I just forget or just don’t have the fucking energy or motivation to bother. But I need help… And it’s not the kind of help you can find by crawling inside a bottle of pills, either. That’s not a solution; it’s a band-aid, really. All those problems, all those ill feelings I have about myself and my life… they’re all still there. My meds aren’t magic pills that change everything. They’re like a bath full of Calgon… They’re alright to a point. They may even help you escape and relax for a little while. But, in the end, the issues are still there and you are still you with all your issues.

They say happiness comes from within… Well, if it does, mine is either defective or literally missing in action…

I’m not sure what the fuck I’m going to do… At this point, I feel like selling my piano, my guitar, the yarn I use for knitting… even all my art supplies. I want to delete all the art programs I have on my laptop, all the drawings I’ve done, all the stories I’ve written… throw all the canvases I’ve ever painted out in the trash. I feel like deleting everything of this life, my art sites, my Facepuke, my Instagram… Just everything…

I feel like deleting the person I am, changing my name and starting life somewhere new. But that’s something for the young, not for people who are so old that they remember the 70s fondly and can tell you where they were and what they were doing the first time they heard “Afternoon Delight” by the Starland Vocal Band and recalls a time when the only channels the television had were from 2 to 13 and what it was like to talk on a rotary phone that was hardwired into the kitchen wall. I’m just too fucking old to start over…

Man, am I feeling depressed… I’m seriously considering canceling today’s guitar lesson again. I know I should go because it usually makes me feel better, but I just can’t bring myself to face anything today, including a happy thing. I think I’ve officially hit rock fucking bottom… I hope I can figure out how to pull myself back to the top again eventually…

When You’re Totally Losing Your Shit…

So there’s a reason I’m spamming all of you with Animal Crossing screenshots today…

Punchy is my favorite character in this game. Aside from the fact that he’s cute, he’s incredibly goofy and dimwitted. He’s one of those characters that just lives day to day, running around happily with his arms stretched out like he’s playing airplane with the biggest smile on his face without a care in the world. Wouldn’t we all like to be able to live our lives like Punchy…

And then this happens… This was actually only the third time he’s had this conversation with me (a lot of dialogue is very repetitive) but for some reason I find it comedic when Punchy begins to question his existence. Maybe it’s because he’s so carefree all the time. Maybe it’s because this is a video game character literally freaking out and getting distressed because he’s suddenly unsure if his life is real or not. Who knows… As you can see in the pictures, he actually gets quite distressed. Then, just as quickly, he brushes it off and goes about his merry way being Punchy.

I need to start living more like Punchy…

Let me explain why I’m spamming you with these pictures today (aside from their comedic value). I’m sure we’ve all had moments where we question our very existence or, at the very least, question what the fuck we’re doing with it. And, to those younger than myself, you start doing it more and more as you grow older. It can be something as simple as, “Why didn’t I learn to roller skate when I was younger? Now I’d break a hip if I tried.” Or it can be something more complex like, “Jesus fucking Christ, half my life is over and what do I have to show for it?! I’ve got nothing!”

Unfortunately, I happen to fall into the latter category… There have been a lot of changes in my life and more coming which have pushed me into the realm of full blown identity crisis. Suddenly, I started to panic. I’ve lived all these years… I’m not getting any younger. Mentally, on a good day, I feel about 16. I don’t feel like I’ve lived nearly half a century. And with all these changes occurring, I realized I have nothing to show for the years I have lived and I have no fucking idea what I’m going to do from here. I have no idea how much time I have left in this world (not that any of us do) but I know I have less than I did when I was in my twenties, that’s for sure… And now I’m starting to feel the pressure to do something significant with my life, something with meaning, something to leave behind of myself other than inane blog entries…

I can seriously relate to this painting…

And it was this identity crisis that made me do something that I told myself I’d never do…

My mother came to visit on Friday (as she does every week) and I did what most of us do when we’re having some sort of life upset… I looked to someone older than myself who probably experienced the same thing and would be able to advise me on how to deal with said identity crisis.

This is where things went horribly wrong… At first, she was reassuring when I said I didn’t know who I was anymore, telling me that I did. But the more I went on in a panic, I think she realized I really didn’t. She gave me sound advice, focus on me instead of others so I can figure out who I am. And, in my state of complete mental breakdown, the filter between my brain and mouth completely malfunctioned. I didn’t mean to do it… but I suddenly heard myself telling her things I’d kept to myself my entire life and had planned to continue keeping to myself . Or, at the very least, I planned to keep these things from her forever. But I didn’t… In my panic, my mouth just started spewing forth all the hurt, all the negativity, all the resentment I’ve been carrying around for decades.

Honestly, I didn’t mean to do it… But it seemed that, once I began, I couldn’t stop myself. My brain and mouth were on autopilot and I literally had no control over what was happening. It was as if I was someone else watching at close distance as some completely crazy woman sat on the sofa, completely freaking out and saying all manner of horrible, hurtful things to my mother with no intention to stop. And I was helpless in putting an end to it…

So I’m being told… but I don’t know that I agree…

So I’ll sum this up as easily as I can, the despicable things I said… and how I told her, in no uncertain terms, that she fucked me up.

I started with the whole thing about why I wanted to drop out of high school a few months before graduation. She always thought it was because, socially, I couldn’t handle the bullshit anymore. Friday I told her that was only a small part of it… When I came home with a college brochure, excited because I’d found the perfect school on the other side of the country, she asked how I would manage it. I replied that I would get grants and loans, live on campus, get a job and sue my “father” for child support (which is what you had to do back then if you had divorced parents and went to college). She told me I couldn’t go because, if I sued him, I’d have to sue her (because I wouldn’t be living at home) and she couldn’t afford it. When I reminded her of this, she said she probably couldn’t have and told me my “father” paid about $100 less than I thought. My sister got only $86 a month. That made the situation so much worse when she told me that. She couldn’t afford to give me $86 a fucking month?!? My sister was allowed to go to college, have a future, be someone… I was denied that same privilege for $86 a fucking month?!? If I wasn’t bitter and angry that I was robbed of a future before, I was when she said that.

And it was this revelation that sent me off on the tangent of a mad woman…

I told her the real reason I wanted to drop out of high school was because, after she told me I couldn’t go to college, I just stopped caring. I was sentenced that day to a life of dead end, meaningless jobs. Then I proceeded to tell her all the ways she fucked me up, like stealing my money (seriously, she stole my hard earned money) instead of asking for it when she needed it. I always found out and she never denied it when I confronted her. She never apologized for it, either. I also told her how badly it fucked me up when I had to go bail her ass out of jail for passing bad checks. I remember, I was only 22, screaming at her in the kitchen about how fucking irresponsible she was while the cops waited for her in the living room. And I had to leave work that day for a few hours to get money from whoever was willing to help and take it to the station to pay her bail. I told her that, because of all that, I no longer wanted to be responsible for anything in life. I’ve been responsible since the day I was born… I was always the one getting the shitty end of the stick, having to be the grown up and raising myself. I’ve been so bitter and resentful towards her for a very long time. My sister was always the favorite. And now, since my sister doesn’t bother with her anymore, suddenly I’m the favorite. But it’s only because it serves her purposes.

After she left that afternoon, I literally fell all to pieces. I spoke to a close friend who told me that it was something that needed to be said, I’ve been letting that all eat me up for too long. She told me I was a good daughter because I didn’t say these things to be malicious and I was concerned I may have hurt my mom’s feelings.

That makes no sense, I know… Actually, I’m concerned I hurt her feelings because she’s my mom and I never meant to tell her those things for fear of them hurting her. On the other hand, I’m concerned it didn’t mean anything to her, which means that she doesn’t care if she fucked up my life or not. Either way, I’m fucked. I feel like I’m doomed to feel bad no matter what. Damned if I do; damned if I don’t. I don’t expect her to care, in all honesty. It wouldn’t surprise me, anyway… But, by that same token, I think she should care. She really did me dirty. It was as if it was an experiment. Let’s see what happens if we give one daughter everything and deny the other all those same things. You should never do things like that to your children… It’s cruel, to say the least. And then they turn out like me. Old and directionless, nothing to show for their life.

Concentrated evil in a deceptively lovely package…

And on top of everything, I’ve been in complete and utter misery…

Since my first COVID vaccine, it’s as if my allergies are going bonkers. The doctors keep telling me that the allergens are bad right now. Well no shit! Everything is coming into bloom and the entire area is coated in a thin layer of pollen! But this is how it is every year and I’ve never been as reactive to these things as I’ve been this year. And it all began after I got that first vaccine… I know it’s supposed to kick your immune system into overdrive, but it also seems to have amped up my responses to allergens. I’m completely and utterly miserable.

So this makes me wonder… should I even get the second dose? I mean, they say round two is worse. If I’m this miserable constantly from one dose, what’s going to happen after a second one? I want COVID to go away as much as the next person, but even if you’re vaccinated, you still need to wear a mask. So it’s not as if we all get vaccinated and we can finally free ourselves and live normally again. And instead, I’m sneezing, coughing, blowing my nose and rubbing my eyes so hard I’m surprised I still have eyes. I’m just not sure it’s worth it if I still have to wear a fucking mask all the time. It really makes you wonder… Is this really for our benefit? Will it really work? And what about those of us who are suffering after effects for a few weeks, now?

I think I need to go do some gardening today… It really is great therapy and I need that right now.

I just can’t stop thinking about what I said and that I’m a horrible human being. I don’t give a fuck if I hurt people. Even if I offer an apology, it’s usually hollow and empty. And, considering the circumstances, I’m not sure I should give a fuck that I may have hurt my mom’s feelings. And yet I do…

What a great addition to my already fucked up identity crisis…

Just Another Trip Around The Sun…

The party Audie threw me was infinitely more annoying…

Last Thursday was my birthday… I was not nearly as happy about it as this little scene I made makes me out to be… Actually, I was dreading playing my game. This year, it was Audie who accosted me as soon as I walked out my door where her, Wolfgang and Pekoe threw me a party. I had to blow out candles, smack a piñata, then proceed to give out the cupcakes inside to other villagers to get goofy presents (which are in this picture). I’ve always hated the fuss, even from these adorkable animals. I don’t like getting old. I know age is a state of mind, but I was in a bad state at the time…

Part of my annoyance was this monstrosity…

I was so looking forward to getting a new tattoo for my birthday. In my last entry, I posted a picture of the tattoo I was supposed to get. Yeah… Check out my last entry and you’ll see why I’m pissed. Not only is the shape wrong, but she did exactly what I told her not to do. I didn’t want a black outline and I wanted the same colors as the picture I sent her several weeks before. As you can see, she just did whatever the fuck she felt like doing. The shape is wrong, the colors are generic watercolor shades (which she didn’t even do nicely), she cut me with the gun in almost every part of the outline and the colors were washed out like this within a week. She rushed it, too, finishing it within about a half hour. Then she had the fucking balls to charge me $140! Jesus Christ! That’s the same amount I paid for the one on my back and that one is three times the size, he drew it on my skin free hand and it took him hours to do! This is shit! Absolute shit!

Now I’m going to have to go to someone else to see if they can fix what disaster this idiot made… And she knows it’s shit because she took a picture of it and never posted it on her Instagram, though she posted ones she did after mine. Go figure… I’m almost afraid to find out how much it’ll cost to maybe fix this monstrosity. So I’ll end up with the most expensive, small tattoo in the world. It’s just bullshit. And I can promise you, I’ll make sure she won’t be getting a good Google review because fuck her. She knew this was a birthday present to myself… Why would you rush and do such a shit job? I’ve seen some of her other works and I know she can do better stuff, so what the fuck happened here?!

A lot of people have told me they love it, but I think it looks more like an oddly colored artichoke, to be honest. My friend suggested I go back and have her fix it… After the shit job she did?! No fucking way!

So, in light of the suck ass tattoo, I decided to go shopping a few days before my birthday. I ended up getting a new purse (like I need that) and a matching wallet, a cute straw hat and a new pair of sandals that have an interesting story…

These were crazy expensive sandals. $89.99! Yes, you can think I’m clinically insane now. I don’t like spending a lot on clothes or shoes, but these really caught my eye. Also, I saw on the sticker on the bottom of the display that they were marked down to $79.99. I justified buying them because, hey, I’m saving $10!

So the girl gets my size and they ring up full price. When I told her the sale price, she didn’t seem to believe me, so she fetches the display and proceeds to tell me they are, indeed, on sale for $79.99. No shit! I just told you that! So I think we’ve cleared things up until she asks me, “Do you want them for the $79.99?” I had to bite my tongue from saying, “Nah, I think I’d rather pay full price… You must be a special kind of stupid!” Seriously! Who the fuck is going to say, “You know, I realize this item is on sale, but I don’t feel like saving money. I want to pay full price.” No one is going to say something that idiotic! Who doesn’t like to save a few dollars, right? That was just the stupidest thing I’d ever heard! But I was good Jackie; I politely told her I wanted them for $79.99, then laughed about it all the way home.

Four days after my birthday, Baxter celebrated his birthday!

My little baby just turned 2 this year! I know, 2 isn’t very old, but I can still remember the day I brought that little three month old ball of crazy fluff home to be my best friend and now he’s 2!

It was certainly an interesting day… He had this notion in his head that he wanted to spend his special day by acting up and doing everything that he knew he wasn’t allowed to do. It’s a dog thing, I guess…

I spent most of the day telling him, “Mommy doesn’t want to yell at you on your birthday! Can’t you behave?!” I assume he couldn’t because he didn’t… And I had to yell at him on his birthday…

Still, it’s nice that we have our special days so close together so we can celebrate together. I even called my mom and had her on speaker so that Grammy could wish him a happy birthday. I’m sure she thought I was insane for that, but she’s kind of used to my insanity by this point. And she loves her goofy grand puppy!

How could you not…? Just look at that adorable little face! He’s certainly my little love! And he always will be!

Then, as you can see, I went and did something I was so not wanting to do… I went to get my COVID vaccine…

To help ease some of my anxiety, I decided to poke fun at the way it came up on my phone. “Initial dose with chair”… I posted it to Facebook with the statement, “Am I getting a free chair with my vaccine? You know, like how you used to get a free toaster when you opened a new bank account? Because that would be awesome!”

But joking didn’t help when I got there… They had converted an old storefront in a strip mall into a clinic and I was completely overwhelmed and freaked out when I got in there. To be honest, I almost bolted right back out the door.

Please don’t think I’m a horrible person… I want COVID to go away as much as the rest of you. But my paranoia against brand new vaccines gave me such anxiety. I’m sorry, I go through enough of feeling like a guinea pig with my psyche meds. I don’t want to be one with a vaccine that was pushed out on the market way faster than it should have been. Yeah, it seems fine now, but who knows what will happen years down the road?

I know sci-fi movies and TV programs aren’t a good example to base my thoughts on, but… think about it. How many movies or shows have you seen with a similar scenario? There’s a pandemic, we make a vaccine, the vaccine ends up fucking people up and BAM! Humanity is completely wiped out due to our fuckery…

I was terrified, but I got it… It didn’t seem bad until a few hours later when, holy shit, it felt like someone cracked me in the arm with a bat! Yikes! Yesterday I ended up sleeping almost the entire day away (which was really not a good thing). By afternoon, my face felt hot, but I didn’t seem to have a fever. Parts of my that already ache on a regular basis ached worse than usual. By night, I developed a headache that, by this morning, was so much worse. Joy… And soon after I woke up, the constant sneezing and nose running began. What the fuck…

There’s a reason I made this picture so small… It’s because I don’t want you to look that closely…

I know I said I wouldn’t ever do it, but… I had some pictures taken on my birthday (it was a beautiful day) since I really don’t have many of myself that aren’t selfies (awful selfies…)

But I’m getting old. Soon I’ll hit a milestone no one wants to hit or looks forward to. So I felt that, while I still look kind of okay, I should get some nice pictures taken outside. Jackie in her hippie dippy element! Hahahaa…

Spring is a great time of year for me (minus allergies). Maybe it’s because I’m a spring baby, but I always feel a sense of renewal when spring hits and things start bursting back into life. I’ve asked my uncle this, as he’s also a spring birthday (his at the end of April) and he’s said he feels the same way as me, that there’s this sense of renewal. It’s hard to explain exactly how it feels unless you experience it yourself. But it feels wonderful!

So… are there any other spring babies out there? Those of you that are, do you feel this same sense of renewal when everything begins to bloom and the weather gets pleasant? Let me know in the comments! I’d love to hear from you!

Have yourselves a hippy-dippy day!

The Big 5-0 And Other Things

No, I’m not turning 50… not yet. Christ, how old do you people think I am anyway?! Hahahaa… I’m just messing with you. Actually, it gets closer and closer all the time and I can feel the walls of a half century of life closing in all too fast…

Actually, what I meant is that I’ve now reached 50 followers! Woot! Damn, I nearly fell over when I saw that! And I want to thank all my followers tho have an interest in the inane ramblings of an old fart who’s a bit mental. Seriously, thank you all so much, dear readers.

I’ve been a bit down in the dumps lately… Facebook is a serious waste of my time. No one wants to hear good news from me or see my art. They only want to hear of my misery and they only half care about that. So this really lifted my spirits. Thank you all so much!

I did have a bit of a mood elevator the other day…

This thumbnail showed up in my YouTube suggestions a few days ago. I was so intrigued that I decided to check out the song and take a listen. The song is “Hey Little Baby” by DOPE LEMON. As soon as it began, I felt so relaxed and at ease. This seems to be my new go to song for when I’m feeling stressed and need to take a chill pill for a minute. The image itself has such a chill vibe… I kind of wish i was there in that little cabin, looking out at that view, feeling this free… What’s even better is the tiny amount of animation added to the image in the video. Between that and the song itself, it really brings a sense of peace. I highly recommend checking it out. And I thank YouTube for suggesting this for me.

I’d like to tell a lot of things to suck it…

And I need the serenity right now. I have a birthday coming up 2 weeks from today…

I remember this episode of I Love Lucy where Ethel’s birthday is coming up and she was asked which one it was. Her response was, “Oh, it’s mine…” I like that. I think I’m going to start responding like that when I’m asked. Yes, I realize age is just a number, but it’s not exactly thrilling that the number keeps getting higher and higher. It’s as if I feel that there’s a certain way someone of my advanced age should behave, but my brain screams no. On a good day, mentally, I feel 16! Why shouldn’t I act as young as I feel, right? Therein lies the problem… Mentally I feel 16; physically I feel 116 on any given day. So which age do I act like?!

I also get down around my birthday and have for well over a decade. My late friend was much like me. She hated anyone making a fuss and we were only allowed to wish each other a happy birthday. No one else… Our birthdays were literally a day apart (hers the day before mine) and our job would celebrate them together. We both hated it so fucking much… but what I wouldn’t give to be able to celebrate with her again. That’s the only thing I really want every single year and I never get it.

As my birthday nears, I get thrown into all sorts of emotional turmoil. The last few years haven’t been as bad since I’ve been on meds, but now that I’m weaning off, I’m seeing that the old apocalyptic mood swings are returning. One moment I’m fine and the next I’m either bawling my eyes out over nothing or literally trashing my house and busting shit up because I don’t know how to handle what I’m feeling. And it’s not normally my birthday or her being gone that upsets me at the time when I flip the fuck out. It’s always something stupid that sets me off…

A few days ago, someone had mentioned my friend… They had met her and were telling me of a memory they had of her. It took all I had not to spaz, get angry, cry, tell them to shut the fuck up… It wouldn’t have been proper on my part. And the memory being shared was a pleasant one and was told innocently. What could I do…?

Speaking of my birthday… I’ve decided to treat myself to something I really want this year.

A few years back, I had gotten my very first tattoo. It’s a watercolor lily with the kanji for “artist” (taken from my Japanese dictionary so I can trust it’s correct) on the back of my left shoulder. I was scared half out of my mind, thinking it was going to be painful, but it wasn’t. Watercolor tattoos use a different type of gun that’s a lot less painful. I love my tattoo, but I rarely see the thing considering where it is. Half the time I forget I even have one. I can’t tell you how many times people will see my back and say, “Oh, that’s beautiful!” I give them a puzzled response until they tell me they’re speaking of my tattoo. Seriously, I forget it’s even there.

This time, I’m going to get the tattoo I have pictured here in the same spot. Heaven help me… I’m not sure how bad that will be as most people don’t beat up the inside of their arms as much as other body parts. Then again, it’s not like the back of my shoulder gets beat up, either. And I have a pretty high tolerance for pain. I mean hell, if I can go through having an ovary rupture, I’m pretty sure I can get a tattoo anywhere on me and it won’t hurt near as much as that did. That was my mindset when I got my first one. I was still scared half out of my mind, but I did it and it wasn’t as bad as I thought. It really didn’t bother me at all/ I hope this one is the same.

I’ve been feeling a lot of stress weighing down on me lately…

Perhaps it’s because I’m weaning off meds, perhaps because I have a horribly high numbered age coming up. Perhaps it’s the billion other things going on n my life right now that are causing me more stress than I need or can handle right now.

I’m sorry to say that I haven’t taken time to meditate. And the closest I come to doing something productive like yoga is in my Animal Crossing game. In all fairness, it’s because even yoga is too much of a strain on my knees. That’s sad and pathetic, I know. Exercise helps arthritis, so they say. But when you have a degenerative type, like osteoarthritis, there’s no amount of exercise that will help you. Besides, how does it help arthritis when it hurts too fucking much to exercise…? Riddle me that, Batman…

I just need to find a way to destress and fast. It’s beginning to take a major toll on my health again. Not to mention that it’s messing with my creativity once again.

But at least I did get some happy news today and I have all 50-some of you to thank for it! I really appreciate the fact that you enjoy the weird ass shit I post and I hope to continue entertaining all of you with even more weird shit in the future. Happiness is best when it’s shared, right…?

The Forces That Be, Hard At Work…

So, it seems Corel Painter wasn’t the only thing trying to stop my creative flow (see entry “It’s Trying To Stop You”). My Wacom tablet decided to jump on the same bandwagon… What the hell is it with The Forces That Be…?! They seem to be trying to stop me from doing what I’ve finally been compelled to do after several years!

Title (c) The Brothers Johnson, Art (c) yours truly

I’ve been having issues with my Wacom tablet for a few years. Periodically it would just go off while I was working and I’d have to unplug it and plug it back in. The issue was just getting worse until my solution stopped working (and it wouldn’t come back on until the following morning). I figured it was the cable, so I ordered a new one. It seemed to help until it stopped working again and refused to come back on. Again… So I put in a call to Wacom tech support. None of the solutions worked, which meant my tablet had finally bit the big one. Had it not been so old (it was made in September, 2014), I would have been able to take the cheaper route and get it repaired. But it wasn’t an option… I had to drop a little over $400 to get a new tablet. I wasn’t thrilled, but, as you can see, I was able to finish my drawing! I worked like a mad woman to get it finished…

In the meantime, I made these weird little scenes in Animal Crossing to get out my creativity… It seems silly, but I had to be creative until I was able to draw again. So The Forces That Be didn’t stop me! Much as they didn’t want me to be creative, “Life always finds a way.” It may not have been a great solution, but it helped.

I also had another outlet…

I’ve been seeing these markers on Facebook for a while and have wanted to buy them… It’s a bit difficult to tell in the picture, but these are the type that write in silver and have a colored outline.

I actually had one of these when I was a kid back in the 80s… Forget I said that… Not only do I not want to date myself and give you a clue how old I am, I’m also making myself feel old and I don’t like it…

Anyway, I always loved those markers, so I decided to get some and try them out. I couldn’t think if what to write, so I just wrote some song lyrics to see if they worked like the ones I remembered. No shit, they’re just like they were back in the day! I was so excited! Morticia said I was weird for that, but she doesn’t seem to understand how strong a pen fetish I have…

I’ve also had some other help during this stress I’ve been experiencing…

Sadly, my betta, Betelgeuse (named after the star, not the movie) passed away. I had really wanted to get a black orchid betta, but every pet store near me was out of them. I had to cross over into a neighboring state (thank goodness I live not far from the state line) to get the very last black orchid betta they had. Isn’t he beautiful? I named him Narcissus after the book/movie/miniseries Black Narcissus. I highly recommend the mini series. It was amazing!

Anyway, he’s been providing me with some comfort… Watching fish swim has been proven to lower blood pressure and stress levels. And man, did I need that last week. If it could go wrong, it fucking did…

I’m hoping for a much better week this time. At least I’ll be able to draw…

I Want To Be A Danish…

To quote the fictitious character Ty Webb, “The Zen philosopher, Basho, once wrote, ‘A flute with no holes is not a flute. And a doughnut with no hole is a danish.’ He was a funny guy.” Then he proceeded to putt all but one ball into the same hole in odd fashions while making sounds like The Six Million Dollar Man.

It actually wasn’t the only good advice Ty gave his caddy, Danny. He also told him, “Stop thinking; let things happen and be the ball.” Imagine such profound advice on life coming from such a stupidly funny movie.

This is why it’s much better to be a danish… As you can see, a doughnut with a hole has no center to find, right? Hahahaa…

I’ve been feeling more than a bit off balance lately for quite a number of reasons. And no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t seem to get my shit together. This lasted the entire month of February… There was just too much hitting me all at once and much of it wasn’t good. To make matters worse, the means of escape, my zen activities, were denied for a variety of reasons. Corel Painter expecting me to pay a shit ton of money for an upgrade since their last version didn’t work with the Mac update, the fact that every Monday, the day I have my guitar lessons, it either snowed like a bitch or we had ice enough to make travel unsafe. I was coming unglued at that point, I think…

You know I sucked it the fuck up and paid those money hungry fuckers at Corel the $148 to upgrade my program, right…? Yeah I did… My desire to draw was so strong, I couldn’t not upgrade. I was afraid that, if I did, I would lose my desire to draw again (and the price would go up to the normal $229 for an upgrade). And I absolutely had to redo one of my drawings because I caught a goof I made that was so obvious I had no idea how I didn’t see it before. I normally don’t like to show works in progress, but here’s a little sneak peak (minus a lot of detail).

That’s what I was throwing myself into for a while as well as my writing. Then, suddenly, I just kind of lost my way again. I’m not having as horrible a block with my art as I am my writing this time, which is unusual. Usually, it’s the other way around. Still, I haven’t done either in a few days because I just fell into a mild funk for whatever reason.

However, there has been a minor improvement in things…

It seems Morticia is finally getting her shit together. That’s a good thing… If she didn’t, I was going to have to quote Morty here and give her the speech on getting her shit together, hahahaa…

I think she’s finally coming into her own again. She inherited her mother’s trailer after her passing and was all beside herself about it. “The park won’t accept my application”, “I don’t know that I can afford it” (even though it was cheaper than her previous rent and better than moving in with Gomez), “I’m afraid to sleep here alone”… The neurosis went on and on.

So she got accepted, moved into the trailer and she still seemed to be having some issues to a degree. Then she got a kitten… To be honest, getting that kitten seems to have done her a world of good. Pets will do that… There’s always someone there to greet you when you get home, listen to you when you need to vent, not judge you and love you unconditionally. She seems happier which is a huge load off me.

And I had something to look forward to, which was a major help.

Finally, there was no snow or ice on a Monday! That meant I was able to make it to my guitar lesson! Yes, after a month of playing here at home and trying to teach myself as best I could and practicing pathetically hard, I was finally able to have my lesson! It felt great to be able to go do something I loved again!

And it turned out to be a great lesson! Well… sometimes they’re a bit more like jam sessions because I catch on quick to some things, so I get a lot of tunes to practice with the occasional new chord thrown in if need be or a new technique I need for said song. My instructor is just the coolest guy! This week I had something amazing to show him. I found chords for a song I’d been wanting to learn, looked up how to play them and even learned a bit of strumming on my own!

Look this shit up, people! I can’t stress that enough!

But the best part of my lesson was a collaboration of sorts… One song I wanted to play (that I introduced him to) was “Scratching Machine” by Janko Nilovic, part of the Montparnasse 2000 Library. It was a collection of circa 1970s French contemporary jazz. It was mostly used for incidental music in various shows. Anyway, this particular piece has an amazing bass riff and guitar riff. Alas, no sheet music. So while I was snowbound, I picked out the main note I heard, showed my instructor and damned if he didn’t figure out the right notes for the chord! He was playing a bunch until I finally exclaimed, “That’s the one!” It’s exciting when you find someone with perfect pitch like yourself! In any case, he wrote it down so I would remember what the fuck I was playing, taught me to strum it… I was beside myself! I’ve been wanting to play this since I first heard it several years ago. Now I can!

The non-Keanu Reeves version of Constantine…

I also picked a name for my red beauty. Finally…

I had an interesting conversation with my mother about what to name my guitar. It’s a D’Angelico, so I thought an Italian name was befitting. I liked Giuseppe, but she suggested Giovani. I actually grew up (sort of) with a Giovani. His parents owned the town pizzeria and they had a million kids. That didn’t sit well… She then suggested Raphael, but people would think the angel or artist. No… they’d think the fucking Ninja Turtle. I was coming up dry.

Suddenly, it came to me… Constantine! When I told her, she countered with, “That’s not Italian!” I retorted, “The hell it isn’t! He was one of the early emperors of the Roman empire!” She seemed a bit put off by this. Gee, I’m sorry you don’t know your Roman history, mom… I don’t know why she seemed funny about that. So, to lighten the mood, I suggested, “I could always call him Caligula! Or Caesar! How about Brutus?” She said no. So Constantine it is!

I think I’m going to take a few days to make a few changes…

This is why I shouldn’t watch Animal Crossing videos on YouTube. They give me all sorts of new ideas on how I want my island to look and… well, then I have to change it. Again… Do you know how many times I’ve done this so far?! It’s insane!

Then again, I’m an artist. We seem to have that urge to create and destroy, sometimes at the exact same time. Fun, isn’t it? But, today, I think I’ll celebrate Girls’ Day in the game. It’s a Japanese holiday… Maybe ripping my island apart can wait a day…