Brain dumps

Have you ever felt like there are things just crawling around under your skin that travel the paths of your own thoughts? Like, you’ll be laying there, trying to relax and then you’re struck by this intense need to just peel off your own skin because it feels so foreign and wrong and uncomfortable that you just can’t stand it anymore. Just rip it off like some Scooby Doo villain reveal.

Every inch of me I want to tear apart and start over. Head over to the body parts store, pick up all new parts like I’m rebuilding a car in my garage. New hair, new eyes, new torso, new arms, new butt, new knees, new spark plugs, the works! Earl Shine would paint my ass for $19.95!! I just want out of this skin. I know this is hormonal shift, depression wanting to beginning, anxiety linked to stress, and lack of a constant stable routine, but it is still annoying as hell.

I have been successful in keeping myself working on things. I got at least 2 of my elements paintings done or at least very close to done. I traced out the photos for my color pencil drawings today so that project is set to begin at some point next week. Once those are done, I’ll pull out the sewing machine. I have some fabric that I can use as right now I can’t buy anything. I hope I have thread, haven’t checked on that yet.

But skin crawlings is frustrating me. I need the weather to get better so I can go outside to just chill. You’re not helping weather!!! It’s almost June, act correctly! *pouts*

*deep breaths* I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.

Fuck you skin.

Projects, projects, projects, keeps the insanity away!

Another semester is down and only one left to go! This one was pretty light in the way of work, but the stress was most certainly there. Hit a financial snag right at the start of it, thanks to the actions of a sick individual that I’d LOVE nothing more than to see ripped apart by a pack of starving crazed weasels with rabies. (Karma, come on! I believe its your turn up to bat, buddy!) The ceramics class was fun, frustrating, but cool to play with. I ended up with half a bag of clay left over so I’ll have to figure out what to do with, as well as how to fire it.

Drawing class was extremely frustrating, but I did however get to learn how to use color pencils better and THAT has inspired a massive urge to play with them more. The final assignment was to do a photo copy replica of an image based on other artists who work with color pencils. I picked an image of one of my obsessions, Tori Amos. I discovered her music in 1994, right at a time when I was trying to block out all of things that were tearing me apart. Her music got me through some of my toughest moments; moments when I was so close to not surviving them. Her songs were like the caring hugs that I needed during those times. When I turned 21, I got the piano notes of one of her songs tattooed on my right ankle with her favorite flowers wrapped around the notes. (Side note: Fiona Apple has also become just as important as Tori to me. Her stuff has been the rope I grab onto during dark moments. I plan on getting one of her songs tattooed on the other ankle) So when I needed to do a photo to draw, she was the first thing that came to mind. I chose an older image of Tori from around the time I discovered her to do as I figured it was fitting. It turned out amazing in my opinion. Several people in class mentioned how much they thought it looked good, and because of it I want to do more drawing like it. Here’s the image for all to enjoy. (Or at least those that actually read this blog.)
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I think I did an amazing job, so I don’t care what anyone else says. Its my first time working with color pencils and I got a chance to understand how to color properly. Over the summer break, one of my personal tasks is to do at least three of these so that I can practice.

Speaking of summer plans, the scheduling of projects has begun so that I don’t lose my mind. I think I’m going to actually print up a work schedule so that I can stick to a routine, which always makes for a less crazy Strange Child! I’ve got my parents 50th in July, so I’ve got some crafting decorations to make. The projects I want to work on are as follows:
Finish my four elements paintings
3 Color pencil drawings
Sewing practice
New front door wreath
Eye flower bouquets
art studio organization
Random abstract artworks
clitoris sculpture for cousin

I will have to also schedule in workouts, getting out of the house (maybe even with Daisy), and hopefully some reading. The sewing practice is to help me prepare for the Doctor Who convention that we’ll be going to in February. I need to plan and make my costumes I want to cosplay. So excited for that! Hubby is also going to cosplay! EEEEEEEE! (happy dance) I’m going to have to make a dress form which I’m not looking forward to. (Oh yay, I get to look at a physical sculpture of my fat carcass.) I want to attempt a dress at the very least. I can get through a circle skirt so far, and I’ve got some throw pillows that need to be finished, but if I can manage a dress I’m gold!

So many projects!! Hopefully I will be able to be too busy to let the brain demons attack me. I don’t want to sink, so I’m laying out the ropes before the water gets too high.

Fuck you wind!

I’ve always hated really windy storms. I don’t particularly care for thunder storms either but I can mentally process THAT noise, but wind? I’m as much a wimp about wind as Daisy is about the vacuum cleaner. Growing up, my bedroom was in the back of the house. In the yard we used to have a HUGE palm tree that I think was at least 2-3 stories high. When the Santa Ana winds or a really bad windy storm would hit, that blasted tree would sway and loudly creak. It used to cause me massive panic in my youth that it would suddenly snap and come crashing through the roof of my bedroom. When the Northridge earthquake hit in 95, our backyard wall and awning fell so my folks decided to gut the tree thankfully. But ever since then, I now go into full panic mode about really huge gusts of wind.

Here in CA we’re finally getting some proper rain and last night was an intense storm that felt like the world outside was trying to get in. It was so bad I could hear the vent over the stove rattling. So of course, this triggered a panic attack. Haven’t had one of those bastards in awhile. It probably hit because I’m alone this week as Hubby is on a business trip. I locked myself and Daisy in the bedroom, blared Sherlock on my laptop while I did some drawings hoping to subside the anxiety. But once I noticed it was almost 1 am, I decided to go to bed. The storm had died down so I figured I’d be okay.

Apparently, my brainmeats didn’t get the memo! It started spinning about me dying, the weight on my chest turned into a boulder, the heart started running a marathon, and I started crying. Managed to after about an hour of deep breaths and mentally screaming at myself to go the fuck to sleep, my brainmeats decided to chill the fuck out.

So yeah, fuck you wind. You suck AND you blow. Eat a bowl of dicks wind.

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Augmented Body: progress report

*sigh* So I retook the photo that is going to my image this weekend and even worked up the image to a point where it almost feels done. But I don’t like it. So there is a possibility I may try to go back to the image I was originally going to work with. Here’s the first pose, untouched. Behold the glory of my fat torso!

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I think the bra marks make it festive! 

I have added the USB hubs and it seems to blend well when I make the image black & white. However, I may need to take the image to Illustrator in order to make the circuit lines. As for the other image, I was also able to the get the USB hubs put in, but its just not visually what I want it to be. Mostly because my husband screwed up and took the image off to the side and not dead center like I was positioned! *grumbles* I love that man with all my heart and soul but when it comes to taking a photo he just can’t. Here’s the untouched version of the image that I may not even end up using:

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See? Never give him a camera.

What bugs me, other than how he didn’t take it right, is how to get how I envisioned the hub to look like on my spine. The same issue is on the other one. Basically, I can’t seem to make it look like it is actually coming out of my spine. *sigh* I’ll figure it out. And the mean voices in my head about how disgustingly fat I am are just having a ball looking at these images because for them its just glorious! Ugh.

 

Families are like pimples of the butt.

First, I need to vent about the weather. Its July. In California. And I’ve had to wear a sweater for the past week. The summertime in the Bay Area is like Bizarro World, where up is down and summer is windy, overcast, and cold! Even the 4th of July was pointless of a day as the damn fog again for the 2nd year in a row, blocked EXACTLY the line of view of the fireworks. To describe it so that one can understand the visual better, it was like the Bay fog was acting as a censor bar covering up the fireworks like nudity during a news broadcast. Apparently the fog thought the fireworks were sinful and therefore needed to be forbidden from view, which much like nipples on a man, the 4th without fireworks is utterly pointless. That, and it was all super windy and that just blows. (HA! I’m a hoot!)

Well my summer plans for going through my pintrest boards has failed. I managed to get just the one thing done and few recipes tried but other than that,…………I dropped the ball. I have been a good girl with going to back to the gym and getting there at LEAST 4 times a week and working out for no less than 1 hour. I’ve even done 2 hours once! Watching old episodes of Doctor Who helps make the time go by like a snap. I can be on a treadmill for hours as long as I’ve got my Doctor to watch. I may need to switch over to Supernatural soon though. I need a bit of variety, otherwise my attention wanes while I’m on the treadmill. Plus, the TVs at the gym are set to horrid places like CNN and Faux “News”, and since I go in the early morning, there’s the horror that is the View and Price is Right. Meh. I’d just put on Netflix if the damn WiFi in the gym was remotely useful. Much like Shawn Spencer discovered, it only works in just this one spot, which isn’t around the machines I use or like using. I’m hoping that around my birthday I can afford to get my own treadmill, so that I can stop paying for the gym and workout at home. This way I can watch The Doctor and the Winchesters to my little fangirl heart’s content, or even read my homework, while I walk for a few miles.  I have to figure out a way to get workouts in when school starts again. My weight is hideous. And not in a body shaming kinda way, more of a “Oh god I’m turning into my mother!” kinda way.

My mom. *sigh* Okay I need to vent about that now. I love her, but when she got diagnosed with breast cancer in 2002, that was the beginning of her fully giving up on life. She beat cancer, watched both her children get married, became a grandmother, and  then she retired from nursing in 2010, and ever since then, she’s just slowly turning into an angry little hermit with bitter, occasionally racist, tendencies. She hardly leaves the house anymore, and if she does, my oh so delightful father insists on going with her. (Probably because he’s afraid of her falling, which she does a lot. That and her driving is…………….well,……bordering on being comical if not scary. She’s just bad at it. He’s no peach, what with his dashingly beautiful road rage. He really is a gem of a human at times.) Since he insists are coming with her, he then in turn spends the entire time bitching at her about how she “doesn’t need that, why are we looking at that, lets just go so you don’t spend any money, bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch”…………Again. Such a delight!! So she just gave up. She can’t really walk well anymore due to both of her knees being replaced which is now causing her to develop a hunchback from not moving as much as she should. She walks all crooked like. Oh, did I mention that she’s only 70? I’ve meet some 80 year olds that are in better shape than her. She’s been cancer free for 12 years now, managing to only need radiation treatments because she caught it extremely early. She’s a diabetic but she controls it with her diet mostly. I managed to convince her to never use any of the sugar substitutes as that only makes it worse. But she gets all HULK SMASH whenever she starts talking about all things wrong with her health, and her life. She claims to have fibromyalgia, but I question this, mostly because she only seems to “feel like crap” when other friends I know that DO have it scream about pain levels and such. I think what her real problem is that she’s clinically depressed, refuses to do anything about it, and is just waiting to die. She declared that she’s got to make it to my nephew’s bar mitzvah, then she can “check out”. Awesome. *eye roll*  Oh, and I’m not supposed to do anything for her funeral either. “All my friends are dead, so is all of my family, so just do something where there isn’t any of that weeping shit.” Poetry,……….. it just rolls off her tongue with such grace folks! Dad on the other hand just wants to be put on the curb in a Hefty bag so he says he’s aiming for a Tuesday night death so he can be on the curb for morning pickup. And these very same people that call me weird for liking strange taxidermy???!!

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This is my genetic people!!! My brother just shrugs and goes “That’s them” and I’m like,………but, but……………… *peels face off in frustration*  *deep breath*

So when I look in the mirror lately, I see my mother. It needs to stop, so I need to do whatever I can to stop it. As The Mother of Dragons said, “I aim to break the wheel” so that this cycle doesn’t continue any further. I already know Lilymonster is already breaking several of them simply by being as far away as possible. She’s all optimist and proud, and beams with excitement that she has her own personal library in her room that’s now spilling over into the living room. (That’s my girl!!) I can’t wait to see her next month and play around with her on her home turf. As well as feel some freaking heat!!! Man I don’t get this micro-climate shit for the Bay. Still haven’t gotten used it.

Onto more positive things: ART!!!!! Managed to make two paintings so far. The one I haven’t quite finished, just needs a few more touches. But I did managed to make a semi self-portrait recently. Wasn’t intending to, but it just unfolded that way. I’m not transferring to Mills in the fall as FUCK that place is expensive!! So back to SFSU I go and hopefully, if I plan it just right, I might be able to graduate this semester. I hope. If not, then only one more for sure. This semester I’ll be taking an English class on ecology in literature, a class on the Harlem Renaissance, and hopefully two studio art classes in mediums I haven’t worked in. Provided they are still available when I can register.

I need to make art. I have to be better focused on making things once I’m done with school. I might look into getting a job at SFMOMA now that’s re-opened after school is done. Just a thought.  But definitely making the process of making art a job for me and getting my stuff out there more. Mustn’t just give up and wait to die.

Break the cycles. Break them into specks of dust.

Sometimes, ……what you’re most afraid of doing, is the very thing that will set you free.

And make unicorn poop cookies. Because that TOTALLY needs to happen!

I should be studying, but,….

Its finals time again, and I’m stalling my studying to write this because I’m lazy and don’t want to. *glares at neglected studies* Stop it. Stop guilt tripping me, ya bastard! I’ll get to you in a minute!

Anyhoo, thought I’d write up something since I’ve been dealing with a few things and I figured it might be best to get it out of my overcrowded dysfunctional brainmeats before they start to go rabid and all foamy at the mouth, leaving me a twitching ball of insanity on the living room floor. I don’t really twitch mind you, more like stare blankly at the TV like a zombie that’s been neutered.

So what’s life been like recently? Well I’m glad you asked, and that you care, because one of the issues lately is another bout of depression trying to sneak its way in under the guise of “See, no one cares. I’m you’re only friend, so let my torture you with aaaaaaaaalllllllllllll the things you suck at, including this whole people loving you thing, as its so much fun!” Little fucker. I am on the hunt for a new meds doctor as my current one has moved to a far away location that I don’t think is worth driving out to for 30 minutes to just get a refill on my prescriptions that I am not sure I want to continue taking or are working properly at the moment. I don’t really agree with the ADD diagnosis and want to reevaluate that whole thing. I know I suffer from chronic bouts of depression and anxiety issues with the occasional panic attack. I don’t like how the ADD meds make me feel, I don’t think the anti-sad pills are helping as much, and I want something to help with the resurgence of the panic attacks. I also want to see if this doctor can help me get a weed card. The chocolates I have aren’t helpful ever since I had that horrific panic attack in February. Every time I’ve tried to have some, even the lowest grade in a sliver amount, triggers my panic. Hubby thinks its psychosomatic which I agree is more than likely, so I figured if I switch back to the herbal version, I might be able to get back to using it like I used to. I do find it amusing in an ironic way how the idea of going somewhere to get the card is causing me anxiety. So a giant middle finger to the useless DARE program that I was forced into taking as kid.  (Seriously, waste of time and a boring t-shirt to boot)

Hubby has a new job, again, but this one seems like it should be far more productive for him, as well as stable. He’s looking at more traveling as well, which is another reason for why I want something for the anxiety as whenever he’s gone for long periods, I become paranoid about the house getting broken into by someone, and I’m getting killed or hurt because even though I have a “dangerous pitbull” as a pet, all they have to do is bring a vacuum with them, or say they’ll give her a bath, or have some fries to distract her and I’m freaking toast! She’s not as cowardly as Milo was, but she’s just as useless of a fierce protector. I probably shouldn’t be saying any of this because now I’ve given all the bad guys a road map for how to kill me. Fuck! Uhhhhhhhh, ignore all that! She’s vicious! She’ll gnaw your face off and eat your toes! She hates fries and will laugh at your threats of vacuum monsters and evil foamy baths! Ever hear a pitbull laugh? Its terrifying! Fear her!! I’m so screwed.

Well in case I’m not killed because my ferocious pitbull is still gnawing on the bones of her enemies, I still need to deal with the depression that wants to barge its way in. I feel lonely at the moment, as I hunker down for finals and whenever Hubby is away, so I don’t tend to get out as much. I swear, I’m the living embodiment of a balancing scale of weirdness! I am introverted in that I LOVE being left alone to do whatever I feel like, watch whatever I feel like, but yet after about a few days, I crave social interaction, but don’t want to be alone in doing it. Throughout all my life, I watched as friends seemed to form tight groups with other, while I never seemed to be included. I saw them go out and have all these adventures while I was never even thought about inviting me to. They have all these moments that they tell me about, and as I’m hearing it all I can think of is “Why didn’t you call me to join you?” I feel…………..forgotten. As a got older, I figured it was fine as life made it tricky to have more free time, and the funds, to do all those things. But still…………………this continues to happen. So one begins to wonder: is it me? Am I the reason for being left out? Did I do or say something that makes people not want me around? So this kicks off the train of “Why Do I Suck” spiral of doom that leaves me crawling around in my own skin. The effects of abuse have resulted in me wanted to please everyone, to make sure that everyone loves me so that they either don’t hurt me or leave, which I’m getting better about letting go of. But this? It still remains. Its why I have such a love/hate relationship about my birthday because it always flares up strongly during that month. Lately, its been a loop in my brainmeats that if I disappeared, no one would notice I was gone. How do you shut that voice off when it continues to point out the fact that people DO leave you out? Its hard to not listen when you see an overwhelming amount of people you love all gathered together going on trips, going to events, or having parties and you were never called or asked to join in, and when YOU reach out to throw your own events, they all suddenly are busy doing other things. Being an adult sucks donkey balls, people! Especially when you’ve got brainmeats that don’t work properly!

I KNOW its childish and ridiculous to feel like this. I’m almost 40 for fuck’s sake! “Its quality, not quantity”, as Hubby tries to soothe me with. *eye roll* Stupid charming man. *sticks tongue out* I need to make more friends. Ones that art artistic, history nerds, geeks, and unicorn allies. And glitter enthusiasts! You can never have enough glitter. As Raymond Reddington said: Never underestimate the power of glitter!

*sigh* I need to get to studying. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming……….

Oh hey! I have a blog! I really need get back to doing this.

First and foremost, I must give myself my own damn shout-out. I’m currently in mid-terms for my last semester at SF State. I checked on my Western Art History results and I got a perfect score, 50 out of 50!

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I….am….a bad ass! *does goofy twerk dance that should NEVER been done in public because it’t really sad more than anything*

I won’t know about my Queer Art History class until after spring break, which I currently am enjoying!

I really need this break. I’ve been having a really tough time lately mentally. After having a bad experience back in mid February, my panic and anxiety attacks popped back up with a vengeance because, let’s be honest, when one is under normal stress what they REALLY need is that minty fresh scent of panic and anxiety to make things all awesome and shit! For about a week I was having constant issues with getting to sleep where I was having the same fear over and over again,…..if I fall asleep, I will die, so not only was my normal random insomnia there, but now there was sprinkles of my death lingering in my head!! It’s like,…..having to eat the driest meatloaf known to all of mankind, but all I had to drink in order to choke it down is grape flavored NyQuil! My chest would occasionally tighten up like an elephant was sitting on me. Frakking damn panic elephant! At the moment, I have just suck it up and deal as Hubby was laid off at the beginning of the month, but found a new, better job a week later. which means we lost our insurance for this month. So, no therapy sessions to help me get through it and no ability to get some temporary prescription help either. And my special chocolate sometimes makes the anxiety worse depending on which one I use. So………..yay. With this spring break, I can relax a bit and not feel like I’m running out of time constantly. Hubby also told me to go get a massage treatment as that does help get the muscles all bound up from freaking out constantly to calm the fuck down. A beautiful spa day for little ol’ me? BEST HUSBAND EVER!!

On Monday, my daughter turns 7 years old. Lost story short:

Found out I was pregnant 6 months in. (Again, long story and I’m shortening it) We’re not parenting people so we made the decision to find a couple that are. We did, and her daddies are the best thing that has ever happened and give her the life that we know we would not be able to.

She’s ridiculously adorable, undoubtedly a result of my own cute genes, and she’s freaking unstoppable in her brains, the gift from her father’s own genius genes. I found the perfect gift for her this year and I can’t wait to see how she likes it. She’s my solid ground for whenever I get really low. I never want to see her in pain and that constant reminder is the rope that I cling to whenever I get too close to the edge. I want to see her get old. I want to have conversations with her like Lorilali and Rory Gilmore. I never want to see her feel that pain that comes with loss. So, I cling to thoughts of her and I pull myself up.

For the next week, I’ll try to make some art as I haven’t done so in awhile and its making my skin crawl which is never a good thing.