Just because you woke up on the right side of the bed doesn't mean you won't have a nervous breakdown in the middle of critique for no reason.
My head hurts. My brain hurts. I'm tired of always worrying about what people think of me. It's too exhausting.
It wasn't 'til I woke up
That I could hold down a joke
Or a job
Or a dream
But then, all three are one in the same
Yeah, all three are one in the same
My Morning Jacket - One In The Same
Monday, February 23, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
ANIME ANIME ANIME
I'm too unsure as to whether or not I should post this on my real blog.
So here's Asuka from Evangelion!
Monday, February 16, 2009
Frustrated.
Frustrated, angry. Exasperated.
I have SO MANY ASSIGNMENTS right now, and the whole back-and-forth thing is driving me crazy right now. One of my clients refuses to email me, even after 5 or 6 emails, while the other is just right except for my teacher butting in and giving as making the client reconsider my progress.
However, in real life, I have a tattoo commission, which is working out fine. I just did a window painting for a business, and it went fine. So why is all my FAKE commission work more complicated than the real shit?
Either way, I just need to figure this out.
And I found out I'm highly allergic to Rives BFK paper, about halfway into a 3-foot drawing. My arms won't stop itching. Blah.
TIME FOR PRODUCTIVITY.
I have SO MANY ASSIGNMENTS right now, and the whole back-and-forth thing is driving me crazy right now. One of my clients refuses to email me, even after 5 or 6 emails, while the other is just right except for my teacher butting in and giving as making the client reconsider my progress.
However, in real life, I have a tattoo commission, which is working out fine. I just did a window painting for a business, and it went fine. So why is all my FAKE commission work more complicated than the real shit?
Either way, I just need to figure this out.
And I found out I'm highly allergic to Rives BFK paper, about halfway into a 3-foot drawing. My arms won't stop itching. Blah.
TIME FOR PRODUCTIVITY.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
It's the end of the world.
Well, no. It's not.
But I miss Jared a lot. It's hard to have your heart filled up to burst and then deflated once someone's gone. He makes everything so bright and colorful when he's around, which makes me world look dark and ugly when he leaves.
He hand-made me a Valentine that said "I love you" in like, 12 different languages (including binary). He put a LOT of effort into it, and it's beautiful.
My heart hurts, I think. If it were a color, it would be blue.
Time to go on with life the way it is until I can see him again. I hate to be such a downer, but sometimes you have to be sad to appreciate the happy times.
Jared did eat a (mostly) whole squid though when we went out to dinner. That was pretty excellent. And we bought lots of asian candy and foods and things. We went on long walks and had dates and did everything I've always wanted to do in a relationship. He bought me a rose in downtown crossing.
He makes me feel so special, precious. It's difficult to not want to feel that way all the time.
But I'll just work hard for now and make him proud. I love him.
But I miss Jared a lot. It's hard to have your heart filled up to burst and then deflated once someone's gone. He makes everything so bright and colorful when he's around, which makes me world look dark and ugly when he leaves.
He hand-made me a Valentine that said "I love you" in like, 12 different languages (including binary). He put a LOT of effort into it, and it's beautiful.
My heart hurts, I think. If it were a color, it would be blue.
Time to go on with life the way it is until I can see him again. I hate to be such a downer, but sometimes you have to be sad to appreciate the happy times.
Jared did eat a (mostly) whole squid though when we went out to dinner. That was pretty excellent. And we bought lots of asian candy and foods and things. We went on long walks and had dates and did everything I've always wanted to do in a relationship. He bought me a rose in downtown crossing.
He makes me feel so special, precious. It's difficult to not want to feel that way all the time.
But I'll just work hard for now and make him proud. I love him.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Cranky post so I'm not cranky at everything else.
I have educated myself better on the whole student government, and I'm not cranky anymore.
Everything has been figured out.
So all is well. <3
/hissyfit
Everything has been figured out.
So all is well. <3
/hissyfit
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Today my Dad came by.
He couldn't stay long - he had to meet his new accountant.
But he came right up to my front door like a gentleman and asked to see my apartment. He didn't care that we'd had a party the night before - he didn't care that I had an empty beer can on my desk. He was excited to see Sarah and gave her a hug; he met Harley, Sarah's boyfriend, too.
We got in his brand new used truck and we went to Panera for lunch. He'd already eaten, but he bought me a little egg souffle thing (which was awesome). He unloaded his stresses about the bills and the house and his job, and I nodded and smiled and joked with him while he described the boat he wants (a $1250 fixer-upper). He listened to me talk about my stresses, but I tried to mention as many accomplishments as I could, to reassure him that I'm doing well and that I'm sorry college is so expensive but I need money for the rent and I'm going to be on the cover of a book, so please be proud of me.
He told me I'm doing great, and he told me to sit when I got up asked him if he wanted to leave. He wanted to talk more, which meant a lot to me. I don't get to see my Dad much.
He came into Blick with me and met my manager Ben. He asked me a lot of questions about things in the store, so I felt special knowing all the answers and being able to teach him something.
He dropped me off at my studio so I could work, and he headed off. I went upstairs to work. A minute later, he called me on the phone - I assumed I had forgotten my wallet or something and that he'd have to drive all the way back.
But instead, he said, "I just wanted to tell you that I think you're the most beautiful girl in the world. Whatever you decide to do, I just want you to know that I think you're fantastic just the way you are, and that I don't tell you how pretty you are often enough. I love you, and you're my beautiful girl."
I joked with him in defense of how sweet and honest that was, and when he hung up, I started bawling my eyes out in my studio. My Dad is so tough and so goal-oriented that he forgets to stop and think about simpler things, sometimes. I get a lot of my fire from him.
You're right Dad, you never tell me enough.
But thank you for telling me today.
But he came right up to my front door like a gentleman and asked to see my apartment. He didn't care that we'd had a party the night before - he didn't care that I had an empty beer can on my desk. He was excited to see Sarah and gave her a hug; he met Harley, Sarah's boyfriend, too.
We got in his brand new used truck and we went to Panera for lunch. He'd already eaten, but he bought me a little egg souffle thing (which was awesome). He unloaded his stresses about the bills and the house and his job, and I nodded and smiled and joked with him while he described the boat he wants (a $1250 fixer-upper). He listened to me talk about my stresses, but I tried to mention as many accomplishments as I could, to reassure him that I'm doing well and that I'm sorry college is so expensive but I need money for the rent and I'm going to be on the cover of a book, so please be proud of me.
He told me I'm doing great, and he told me to sit when I got up asked him if he wanted to leave. He wanted to talk more, which meant a lot to me. I don't get to see my Dad much.
He came into Blick with me and met my manager Ben. He asked me a lot of questions about things in the store, so I felt special knowing all the answers and being able to teach him something.
He dropped me off at my studio so I could work, and he headed off. I went upstairs to work. A minute later, he called me on the phone - I assumed I had forgotten my wallet or something and that he'd have to drive all the way back.
But instead, he said, "I just wanted to tell you that I think you're the most beautiful girl in the world. Whatever you decide to do, I just want you to know that I think you're fantastic just the way you are, and that I don't tell you how pretty you are often enough. I love you, and you're my beautiful girl."
I joked with him in defense of how sweet and honest that was, and when he hung up, I started bawling my eyes out in my studio. My Dad is so tough and so goal-oriented that he forgets to stop and think about simpler things, sometimes. I get a lot of my fire from him.
You're right Dad, you never tell me enough.
But thank you for telling me today.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
