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Tuesday, July 3rd, 2007
9:36 pm - I don't know what to title this....
I know it's been a long time, yet again, since I updated this, but I need to write this down somewhere. I don't know why, exactly, maybe it's part of the recovery process. I don't know, and I don't suppose it really matters.

It was this last Monday, around 1:30 PM. I was walking my bike back to my apartment; walking it, because the back tire was a bit loose and partially flat, and I did feel safe riding it. I was returning from the Milwaukee Metro Business Office, happy that I had finally gotten around to cashing in the refund slip from last February. I had been forced to pay ten dollars for the far, since at the time, I didn't have anything less on me, and it was the last bus of the night. But that's not the point of the story. Just set-up and all that jazz.

So anyway, I'm walking my bike home, thinking about the wonderful cigarettes I'll be able to purchase with this small amount of cash. In my backpack is my laptop, as I was planning on heading to Panera to use their free wireless after I got the smokes. I was in an area of town I had never been in before, and thus did not know the reputation the neighborhood had; I didn't have any reason to be suspicious, either, really. They had nice sidewalks, and I've always figured nice sidewalks to be a side of a good, safe area. Don't know why.

Too many damn tangents I could go off on. I'll try to stop.

I'm walking my bike down Walnut Street, and I'd just crossed 11th Street. Crossing on 11th fromthe other side of Walnut were four young black men, all around 16-20 years of age. As they approach, I hear one of them sa "Nice Boots". This is something I get a lot, and seemed to have been getting quite a bit that day. I turn to thank him, and one of the others - wearing a white shirt, and from here on out shall be called 'White Shirt'- says something as well. He's now on the other side of me; I don't hear him quite clearly, and I turn to ask him to repeat what he said.

He gives me an amused look, shakes his head slightly, and punches me across the jaw.

I start running. I hop on the bik and start trying to peddle. Glancing back, I see the one who complimented my boots (who shall hereby be referred to as 'Boots') chasing after me. My bike is in it's lowest gear at this point, and I'm unable to get enough speed up before he punches me in the back of the head, right next to the spot the side-view mirror struck two years ago. The bike and I go down hard. I ditch it.

I start running, and am brought down again by hard punch to my shoulder, and a second to my back. I twist with the fall, landing on my back. Boots and White Shirt are advancing on me again; I manage to scramble to my feet and start backing away. Insticntively, my hand goes into my pocket to grab my phone in the vain hope that maybe I can call the police. Guy number four is still at the end of the street, where the first punch struck. I notice guy number three a little ways away.

Number three has his phone out. He's recording it all.

Boots demands I take my hand out of my pocket. I don't, and he demands again. I do, still backing away, calling out for help and shaking in fear. He tells me to hand over the phone. I do, and White Shirt punches me again in the jaw.

They demand that I empty my pockets and hand over everything I have. I don't continuing to back away, hoping one of the numerous cars passing by will stop. I take another blow to the head and fall to the ground, landing hard on my backpack. I hear a horrifying 'crack' and fear my laptop is busted. Boots kicks me in the thigh and demands again that I hand over everything.

I hear a voice behind me, and they suddenly start running, grabbing my bike before they go. I look back and see a bus stop with a couple of people at it. One of them is approaching me, asking if I'm alright. He helps me up, and the other bus stop person calls the police. One of the cars stops as well; apparently, he wasn't able to stop before, and turned around to do so.

The police arrive about five minutes later; bus stop people had left to catch their bus, and car guy drove off - something about 'not being in a good situation to talk to the police; I'm guessing maybe he has a warrant or prior convictions or something, I don't know. He stopped to help, and I'm grateful for that. As he's driving by, though, after I get into the police car, he yells out, pointing the way I'd come from, "THAT'S ONE OF 'EM!"

The cops make chase, and guy number four is caught, running along the bridge I'd crossed earlier.

The next hour or so is a blur of questioning and waiting for the detective to arrive. One cop gives me a phone to call my parents, and another gives me a bottle of water. I realize I haven't eaten all day at this point, and I desperately want a cigarette. I'm frazzled, practically hyperventilating, and scared out of my mind. I don't remember much from this period of the incident except for answering a lot of questions. I vaguely remember a woman stopping, and the cops talking to her. She'd seen it when it was happening while driving by, and called it in.

Makes me wonder how many other passing motorists called it in.... and how many just watched and ignored it.

At around 3pm or so, the cops are taking me back to my apartment. We're about three blocks away, when we spot four kids riding bikes on the bridge were currently crossing.

One of them is on my bike.

We stop, and get the bike back. None of the kids were the ones who attacked me, but two of them are younger brothers of Boots and White Shirt. The cops now have names for them, and addresses.

Again, I'm forced to wait about an hour for the police photographer and sergeant to show up. I find a whole cigarette on the bridge, and I light it up. It's a Newport, a menthol, but I don't give a shit. I can feel a bruise on my face, and another on my leg. My shoulder is killing me, and later that night I'd find another, very ugly bruise there.

The kids seem nice. They deduce that I'm goth, and ask me numerous questions about the subculture. Eventually, the cops we're waiting for arrive; I spend more time answering questions, and then finally, I'm allowed to go. They take the younger brothers of White Shirt and Boots with them for further questioning; the kids seem excited about riding in a cop car.

I get home, drop my stuff off, and go buy a pack of smokes. Then, I activate another one of the three phones T-Mobile gave me, and cancel the one that was stolen. I call my parents again, let them know what happened, and listen to them worry.

Later that night, I can't get to sleep. Every time I close my eyes, even as I write this, I see the amused look on White Shirt's face right before he punched me. And then the whole thing plays out again in my head; the attack, the fear, the guy recording it on his cell phone as his friends beat me up in broad daylight on a busy street. I hope they find that cell phone.

This is the sort of thing that you think always happens to somebody else. I'm reminded of a Calvin and Hobbes quote when I think this now; "We're all somebody else to other people." I'm paraphrasing, of course.

I didn't have much faith in humanity, and this pretty much killed what little remained in my cyncial mind.

And on Tuesday, it was ressurected.

An older couple I'd seen up around the strip mall where I buy my smokes was at Starbucks, outside at one of the tables. I don't know them well, but we'd exchanged greetings and idle chit chat from time to time. They ask me how I've been, and for some reason I told them about the assualt. We talk for a while after they make sure I'm okay, and I leave to go back to my apartment.

As I'm going, the wife calls out to me. I turn, and she runs up and presses five dollars into my hand. She tells me to buy myself a little something, and to stay safe.

I don't even know her name.

There's a bit more to this whole story, but I'm actually feeling the desire to sleep coming on now. I'm going to take it before it goes away again.

current mood: and still a little scared

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Thursday, February 8th, 2007
5:14 pm - No respect for the dead...
The necrophiliacs are going to have a field day with this one.

Ann Nicole Smith, Dead At 39

Hmmm...The dumb bitch voodoo doll appears to be working. I must double my efforts on the "Stupid Rich Girl" doll and hope Paris Hilton has her final headline...

Now, normally I don't pay such disrespect for the dead, but some people used up all the respect they deserved while they were alive. In Anna's case, I think she actually went into the red and owes the world respect. Dying is a good first step.

current mood: content

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Wednesday, January 31st, 2007
12:04 pm - Updating...
Well...I did it again. I went away for several months, and completely forgot I even had a LIveJournal, and now I'm back again, ready to post on a regular basis for a few months before I undoubtedly disappear again. I suppose we should make the most of our time together, though...

Since the last entry, Jess (the girl) has moved in, and we're nearing seven months together.

The apartment is all together now, and we have a steady internet connection that isn't leeched off of MSOE. It's leeched off the people upstairs.

And I've been academically dismissed from MIAD. Poor grades, entirely due to the schools fucked-up attendance policy. Apparently, doing all the work and getting good grades on the work is not as important as making it to every single class. I should have gotten at least a B in two classes. But no, since I missed six classes, it's an automatic fail. Kids, what do we call a policy like that?


Yes, very good. Go grab yourself a tootsie roll pop from the can.

I did not have a good semester. Anyone on IRC I talk to regularly already knows this, but my Grandfather died last December, the Friday before the last week of the semester. Add in all the trouble with the apartment and financial aid FUCKING with my loan, I had other concerns outside of school that were forced to take precedence. When you don't have enough money to buy food, pay rent, and purchase school supplies, guess which of the three has to be cut from the budget?

MIAD sucks. Not to say I don't like the school, and the people there. But MIAD sucks. The amount of art I've done over the past three years that did not have to do with a school assignment can be counted on one hand. And something happened recently that I am thoroughly displeased with...I tried drawing the other night. A simple character, nothing extrvagant or artistically ground-breaking. When I was done, I was disappointed. I looked at the work I had done in the sketchbooks I had before coming to MIAD afterwards.

I've gotten worse.

Somehow, my abilities have gone into stagnation. All the progress I had made over the years before coming to MIAD has backslipped. And this is not good.

I don't know what to do about it, other than start drawing again and get back into shape. I'm sure I can do it, with time and effort. But it's still upsetting that going to art school has apparently impaired my ability to do art the way I used to.

I still have the skill. I'm sure of it. I just have to retrain myself the way I did before. I'm going back to artistic boot camp, retraining myself from the beginning. Drawing every night and every spare moment I can, like I did when I was in high school. Hopefully, this time it won't take me four years.

That's all I have for now. There's more I want to say, but I'd rather save it until another entry.

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Wednesday, September 6th, 2006
9:49 am - An update on the apartment
I meant to update this when I moved in, but various things prevented me. So here goes, a basic recap of the past few days...

Friday: I moved in, and the bathroom was not complete. The toilet that still needed to be replaced was still there. What's more, the stove, fridge, and kitchen sink and cabinets were gone too. I asked about this and was told that they removed them so they could redo the floor in the kitchen, and I'd have them back on the next day.

Saturday: They did the kitchen and bathroom floors. Kitchen appliances did not return as I was told. Toilet was taken out and left in the bathtub. A new one was not installed.

Sunday and Monday: No work done due to it being Sunday and Labour Day. I am still without toilet. I hang out with Ashley from upstairs for most of these days. She is kind enough to let me use her shower as well. My parents come into town and we move all my stuff into the apartment. I no longer have to sleep on the hardwood floor. My neck thanks me.

Tuesday: While at school, I call the building manager, Matt, who just got back from his honeymoon the previous day, to see if there are any people working on the place at the moment. He has to go down and talk to them, and will call me back. When he does, he gives me the wonderful news that I now have a toilet, and the rest of it will be finished on Wednesday. I get home after school, and discover I not only have a toilet, but a kitchen sink and cabinets as well. In my bedroom, there is a bathroom sink and vanity that still has to be installed.

Today: There are people here right now working on the place. I have the bathroom sink installed, and I was told the tub is fine, just needs to be cleaned. The rest of the kitchen stuff will arrive shortly. One guy was upset about all the paint the painters got on the floor, however, and is trying to decide how they're going to take care of it, wether with intense cleaning, or by capeting the hardwood floors. I don't want carpeting, so I hope they don't go that route.

In other news, the girlfriend is coming to visit in six days. She arrives at 9:40am on the 13th. I don't have class until 6:50pm that same day. We'll have so much time to spend together that first day alone...then the next day I'll be in school from 8am-6:30pm...Friday and Saturday I have no classes, though. And she doesn't leave until late Sunday night. So we'll have plenty of time to be together.

current mood: cheerful

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Wednesday, August 30th, 2006
2:07 pm - Good Day
The lease has been signed, I have my keys, and I move in on Friday. The apartment is next to two MSOE buildings, and I have confirmation that I'll be getting free wireless bleeds I can tack on to. I learned this from a friend I only yesterday learned lived in the building. Things are going great with the girl, and she's coming to visit in September.

And a girl in photography took my picture for an assignment where she's documenting people's personal clothing styles. Not that big a thing, I suppose, but I liked that I apparently have a "style" that stands out enough to warrant having my picture taken for a project like that.

It's been a good day so far. :)

current mood: bouncy

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Tuesday, August 29th, 2006
12:11 am

And another behind the cutCollapse )

Those were honestly the best pics I could find...

current mood: cheerful

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Sunday, August 27th, 2006
11:12 am - U-Haul Sucks. Seriously.
Well, since the last update we've pretty much sorted things out. We got tired of waiting for one of my friends to respond with a positive "Yes, you can crash with us." Instead, we've found me a cheap hotel to stay in for a few days, and a storage locker at a U-Haul in Milwaukee.

Yesterday we went down to the U-Haul in Madison to pick up the truck. The first truck they gave us, the transmission was shot. So they gave us a new one. This one worked, so we took it home, loaded it up with all my stuff, then headed out onto the freeway, to Milwaukee. My dad was driving the truck while my mom and I followed behind him in the car.

About twenty miles onto the freeway, we stopped at the Johnson Creek outlet mall to fill up both the car and the U-Haul. We did this, and were ready to head out again.

Except the truck wouldn't start. Sputtered and died right next to the deisel pumps.

Dad calls U-Haul, and they send out a mechanic with a tow truck. He arrives about half an hour later, tells us some component on the truck is busted (I think he said fuel pump, but I really don't know). He then offered to tow us the rest of the way to the U-Haul we were heading to in Milwaukee.

And that was pretty much it for yesterday, except for briefly getting lost in Milwaukee due to faulty MapQuest directions. We loaded all my stuff into the locker, and I'll be staying in a cheap hotel for a few days with only the essentials: Clothes, toiletries, laptop, iPod, GameBoy Advance, and cigarettes.

So, slightly shitty day yesterday...until the girl called. After that, I felt a lot better about things.

current mood: chipper

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Friday, August 25th, 2006
12:14 pm - It's official. I'm cursed.
Ok, I'm pissed.

First, they said it would be no problem for me to move in on the 20th.

Then, they call me on the 17th and tell me the problems with the bathroom, and that I won't be able to move in until the 31st. I ask if I can at least move my stuff in, and they say they'll get back to me on this.

I wait five days for them to get back to me, leaving over a dozen messages. Finally they do say, saying it's fine if I move my stuff in, as long as I acknowledge that Ogden Realty Company is not repsonsible for anything that might be stolen. I agree to this, just wanting to move my stuff in.

The next day, I get a call back from my landlord, saying he's getting married this weekend, and that he won't be there to give me the key to the apartment. He say's he'll leave it with the realty people.

Today, I call and leave a message asking when on Saturday we can pick up the key and start moving my stuff in. We get a call back not too long after, saying that they don't have the key, and the contractors working on the bathroom can't get them the key until they finish the bathroom. This means I apparently can't get a key until September first.

Are they completely forgetting everything I told them over the last month? That I start school on the 28th? That I have a truck rented? That I put ON THE FUCKING APPLICATION THAT I NEEDED TO MOVE IN BEFORE THE 28TH!?

It's official. The month of August, specifically the week before school starts, is my personal Friday the 13th. Last year it was the eviction and the head injury, this year it's the aforementioned shit, next year I predict plagues and locusts.

current mood: out of my fucking mind

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Thursday, August 24th, 2006
5:15 pm - Ganked from catdraco
I want everyone who reads this to ask me three questions, no more no less. Ask me anything you want (though I reserve the right to not answer, or to answer evasively). Then I want you to go to your journal, copy and paste this allowing your friends (including me) to ask you anything.

current mood: bored

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3:29 pm - Taking the potentially good with the obviously bad...
So...as the few of you on this lsit who frequent IRC may know, I have been working on my parents driveway for the past two weeks. Digging out the cracks, resealing them, etc. This was all in preparation for resealing the entire driveway, which I started yesterday. After seven hours, I finished a little over a third of the driveway, using two buckets of the driveway-sealing stuff.

And last night, we had a thunderstorm. A thunderstorm that was guaranteed to pass us by.

Needless to say, all the work I put in yesterday has been literally washed away, leaving me with two less buckets of stuff and not enough time to redo it and finish the whole driveway before I move back to Milwaukee. The fact that it's been raining all day, and will possibly continue on til tomorrow further complicates things.

Speaking of moving back to Milwaukee, my landlord finally returned my calls this morning. Turns out the reason he hasn't before today was that he's getting married on Saturday, and preparations for that has consumed a fair amount of his time. But, I have been given the ok to move all my stuff in, as long as I awknoledge the fact that contractors are still working on the bathroom, and will be going in and out of the place, and that Ogden Realty is not liable for anything that may be stolen. I have renters insurance, though, and anything that may be stolen should be covered. I am, however, thinking of mislabelling boxes to give the false impression that none of what I have is worth stealing. No idea if that would actually deter someone, but whatever. I plan to keep the irreplaceable, valuble stuff with me at all times.

Still waiting on a few call backs from friends regarding whether or not I can crash with them until the 31st. Hopefully, someone will respond in the positive, and I won't have to take Badger Bus forth and back between here and Milwaukee. If nothing else, I suppose I can find a YMCA or something...

current mood: hopeful

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Tuesday, August 22nd, 2006
6:45 pm - Another Entry in the 'Shit That Happens When Will Tries To Get An Apartment' File...

Why does this shit happen to me? Why can't I ever have an easy time getting into an apartment?

Five days, and I have not heard back from my new landlord. Five fucking days, over a dozen fucking calls, just for an answer to "Can I move my stuff in on Saturday?" I don't give a flying fuck if the answer is yes or no anymore, I just wanna know so I can plan accordingly. I already know I can't move myself in on Saturday, since the fucking shit with the bathroom has delayed that until the 31st, but I'd like to know if I can move my stuff in. I have a truck rented to move it, but it's reserved for Saturday, and if I can't, I have to know before Friday to I can cancel it.

Add this to the fact that I don't know where I'm going to be staying until the apartment is ready. I called Matt today, and he's not sure if I can stay with him, since Marshalll still has to move in, he hasn't gotten a hold of Will, plus they don't have any rooms for me to stay in. I don't need a bloody room. I can bring a sleeping bag and crash on the floor. Hell, I'll crash in someone's car. I just need a bloody place to sleep for three days. I've called other people, but they're either as unsure as Matt is, or they haven't returned my calls.

All I need is a fucking place to sleep. That's all. Missing my first three days of classes because I have nowhere to stay in the city isn't going to be a great start to the school year.

current mood: aggravated

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Friday, August 18th, 2006
4:41 pm - Characters and stripping
I've completed five strips so far, three in storyline order. The other two are planned for further down the line, but I drew them now so that I wouldn't forget to do the storyarc later on, and because those two strips are pivotal parts of their respective storyarcs that came to me suddenly, and I wanted to get them down on paper as soon as possible. I could have just written them down, I know, but it's far more satisfying to draw them out and see my mental image before my eyes.

I hope to have at least two dozen comics done, in order of when I plan to release them, by the time school starts. I figure that should give me a good enough lead so that I don't have to worry about falling behind, and take care of the "Dammit, I need an update but I have this big project to work on and it's due tomorrow!" situation I will most likely be in at least once during the course of the semester. Although I hope I won't. It'll be nice to have one semester where I'm not behind and rushing to complete projects. Then again, this is part of the reason I'm starting this webcomic. I do more art, work on more projects, when I have a webcomic. I don't know why. I do know, however, in high school, when I was regularly distributing EverCrack (which was about a few of my friends and the hilarious addiction to Everquest they shared at the time) to my friends every other day, I also filled up sketchbooks with drawings. The two years I did EverCrack, I think I went through about fifteen of sixteen sketchbooks, only half of which involved the comic in any way.

That reminds me, I'm going to need a new sketchbook soon. Maybe I should start buying them in bulk...

I also plan to make a lot of filler art in advance too, which, if you think about it, is not really in the spirit of filler art, since it's meant to be made on the spot when the artist doesn't have time to do an actual strip. But I figure, why wait until I don't have time? Have some ready-made filler art, just in case. I'm also planning to do some fanservice art, just for the hell of it...although it might fit into a storyline somewhere. Only about three people in the world know for sure, and I damn well hope they ain't telling. And you three know who you are... :P

One of the good things about both EverCrack and this new comic, is how close I've actually grown to the characters in such a short time. With EverCrack, it was because all the characters were based off of real people, people I had known for years and had a strong bond with already. With Going Nowhere, it's almost the opposite. Since I learned the fundamentals of character deisgn last year, and how you don't simply design their image, you design their personality, every character I've created has taken on a life of it's own. They have their hopes, dreams, fears, loved ones, enemies, backstories...everything. I know how they will react in any situation, their specific facial expressions, everything. And that's what makes me care about them so much, even though they're really just lines on a page. I created the characters of Going Nowhere, loosely basing them on some of the characters from EverCrack, but essentially creating them from scratch, building them from the ground up. I designed their personalities before their images, and was thus able to work said personalities into the base design of their form. Sophia, for example, actually looks like she could get angry any moment, then be kind and sweet the next. Deirdre, Jayce, Ian, and Knifey are the same way. The way they look conveys a sense of their respective personalities.

This is the problem I had with the comic I tried to start (as some of you may remember, but probably won't) during my freshman year of college. I took people I hadn't known more than a few months and tried to create characters from them. And it didn't work. I didn't feel anything for the characters, not to mention basing characters directly off of people you know, and having them know you based the character after them, opens up so many bloody problems. Complaints like "Hey, I would not say that!" or "Make me look cooler!" were brought to me more than once, and doubtlessly would have been brought to me again. Add this to the fact that, although my friends there are great, I cared so damn little for the vast majority of the characters, I just lost interest in the entire thing. It took me two comics, one of which was never seen and will never be seen, to realize this.

Y'know, I actually had no intention of going on this long. I just started typing and the words just...bled out onto the screen. Don't you just love it when that happens?

current mood: accomplished

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Thursday, August 17th, 2006
2:00 pm - School Shiznit
Got something from the registrars office at school. My schedule has been altered. Instead of 3D Computer Animation from 8am-3:20pm on Fridays, I have it at 6:50-9:40pm on Mondays and Wednesdays. So my schedule looks llike this:

3D Computer Animation: MW, 6:50pm-9:40pm
Introduction to Naturals Science - Biology: TuTh, 8am-9:20am
Advanced Composition: TuTh, 12:30pm-1:50pm
Figure Drawing for Illustrators: TuTh 3:30pm-6:20pm

I like this schedule a bit more than the previous one. I was worried that I might miss an 8am Friday class by overlseeping, but now that it's scheduled almost 11 hours later, there is no way I'm gonna oversleep and miss it. And having it on two days for three hours each is a lot better than one day for six hours. Now I only hope the instructor they got for it knows the material. I want to learn Computer Animation from my instructor, not along with him.

current mood: mellow

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Wednesday, August 16th, 2006
2:56 pm - Grrr
First, something stupid

Click here.
Take the quiz.
Post your results.
See beyond_"s results.Collapse )

Well, got the call back from Matt, and the bathroom is even worse than I thought it was. They have to replace everything. Walls, plumbing, fixtures, you name it, they need to replace it. And the soonest it can be done, apparently, is the 31st.

School starts on the 28th.

So I need a place to crash for three or four days. I've asked Mashall and his roomates, but they haven't gotten back to me on it yet Neither have Jacob and his roommates.

This is so not how I wanted the year to start. Why is it, every year, I have problems with my living situation right as the semester starts? Evicted last year, and now I can't move in when I was originally supposed to be able to. The Housing Gods are out to get me, I swear it.

current mood: annoyed

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Tuesday, August 15th, 2006
5:57 pm
The new landlord, Matt, called this morning. They've been working on cleaning and fixing up the apartment so I can move in on Saturday...which I apparently can't now.

The guy that lived there before me skipped out on them, and, apparently, before he did, he completely trashed the bathroom. Trashed it so badly that they need to replace the sink, the toilet, and the cabinet. This, apparently, is going to push back my move-in day. This doesn't exactly make sense. It doesn't take that long to install new bathroom fixtures. Hell, my parents did it in a day, and that included a tub. So I don't know what's the big slowdown with my place...

This is especially shitty, as we have already rented a U-Haul, and my dad went through hell to get this Saturday off. I've called Matt back, hoping to ask him if we can move the larger items in, like the bed, the dresser, the desks...basically everything we needed a truck to move in the first place. He hasn't gottten back to me yet.

In other news, I finished the first comic, and I think it's pretty damn funny. Since I don't have access to a working scanner yet, I'm planning to just stockpile strips until I start school again. They have scanners I can use. Once that's done, I'll put it online. Fun, huh? I'm calling it 'Going Nowhere', which will undoubtedly open up a plethora of emails from people who read it, telling me the comic is 'going nowhere lol!!!!111', emails to which I will not respond, and possibly make a comic making fun of the losers who send them.

current mood: tired

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Saturday, August 12th, 2006
3:11 pm - A disturbing development
Something scary happened to me last night.

I was watching TV, idly sketching out a comic strip, when I accidentally leaned on the remote and changed the channel to Fuse, one of the many music channels I never watch. On it was an episode of Loaded, which shows a block of music videos by one particular group/artist. The group, in this case, were Linkin Park.

I hate Linkin Park. I hate them with a fire that burns brighter than a thousand suns.

Normally, I would have just changed the channel the instant this happened, but then I heard some of the music...and for some reason I suddenly felt this NEED to draw. The music just...energized me...in a way only a few other bands have in the past. I hated every note and every lyric, but I kept it on anyway, and before I knew it, the comic was done and I was starting on another.

I don't understand this. I hate the band, I hate them a lot, as mentioned above. So why do they motivate me so much in my art? The only reason I can think is that they make me angry, both the for the reasons that simply I hate them, and also...it may sound weird, but Linkin Park seems to have found the exact perfect combination of sounds to make me angry, as well as make me inspired.

Anyone else ever encounter something like this?

Oh, and thanks to everyone who responded to the last post. I'm gonna go with blessed fortune cookies that have been exposed to gamma radiation.

current mood: artistic

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Tuesday, August 8th, 2006
3:08 pm
So...which would make a more amusing plot device?

•Genetically enginered eggrolls

•Irradiated crab rangoon

•Fortune cookies blessed by the gods

current mood: creative

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Saturday, August 5th, 2006
11:26 am - Technical Crap
No one has claimed the iPod Shuffle I found yesterday. I went around yesterday asking if anybody lost one. Nobody had...at least, nobody who could identify any of the music on it. That's another thing about this Shuffle. It's completely filled with Christian Rock. Scary. So I've decided to give the Shuffle to my mom, who's the only one in the family without an iPod of some kind.

MacService called yesterday. The have successfully installed the 60 GB hard drive, but they were unable to transfer any of the data from my old hard drive. I did manage to backup a good amount of my irreplaceable files and applications (Photoshop CS, iMovie HD, Final Cut Pro). They gave me three options: One, the try a data recovery thing, which costs me another $400; Two, the take the old hard drive, put it in an enclosure and turn it into an external, which costs me another $160; or Three, they send me the old hard drive when they ship the computer back, and I can try and do something with it myself, which costs me nothing. Naturally, I selected option three, which is a longshot but doesn't cost me anything.

I am a little pissed, though, that it's gonna take until Monday for my computer to get back to me. I paid an extra $50 for overnight shipping both ways, and I should get it by the next day. But instead, I get it on Monday, since Saturday and Sunday aren't "business days". Bullshit. I want my $50 bucks back.

But anyway, I'll finally have my computer again. I just wish I had throught to back up all my files before this happened. I just checked my external, and I didn't back up any of the writing I was I hoping I did. This is disappointing, very much so. I have the most important plot notes committed to memory, but I've lost over 120 pages of character files, geography, background story, political workings, magic, and numerous other smaller but significant details.

Shit. I've got a lot of work to do, and not enough smokes to do it with.

Oh yeah. Bought an easel at a garage sale yesterday for $3. Snazzy.

current mood: determined

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Friday, August 4th, 2006
11:10 am - Stream of consciousness revelations
Start Time: 10:25am

I'm once again attempting the stream of consciousness thing, so bear with me. Maybe I'll learn something...

Last night, I had 'that feeling' again. I've mentioned 'that feeling' a few times in the past, I'm sure. Basically, it feels like I'm on the verge of a major personal emotional or philosophical breakthrough. I'm constantly bombarded with this feeling that something isn't right with the world, and that if I only alter my perception a few degrees, start looking at something a little differently, and I'll make a breakthrough. For the heck of it, I'm going to time how long this takes me before I either figure out wat I'm supposed to figure out, or get bored trying.

I hate having this feeling. It will not go away, no matter how much I ignore it, until I have 'the breakthrough'. This has happened three times in the past, and each time the feeling has gone away, I didn't know what the heck it was I had apparently discovered about myself until much later. I'm sick of not knowing what my 'revelation' is until too late, so I'm gonna try and work this out here.

The problem with trying to work it out, is that I think to damn much. Too many topics run through my mind, too many problems and too many solutions. It's too difficult for me to focus on any one problem to determine which solution, if any, is the right one to apply. Like the problem of my repressed anger. It came to my attention not too long ago that I have been repressing a lot of rage over the years. I attribute this to having an autistic brother. I was never able to get angry and yell at him for doing things that bothered me, because he honestly wouldn't understand why I was mad, which would make him mad, which would make our parents mad, and resulting in the both of us getting in trouble. So I started repressing it. This led to a habit of repressing any anger I felt at any time, with the exception of anything related to politics. But as a result of all this repression, I don't know any effective means to unleash it. That's, I think, why I like smoking as much as I do. Smoking seems to calm me down, help me think through the anger. Doesn't always work, of course. People have always said they find it difficult to make me angry, but that's not true. It's quite easy to make me angry. I just keep it hidden, not letting the anger rule me.

Anyway, this isn't about my anger, I'm sure. This is about something else. The feeling first appeared last night, when I was thinking about school. The next semester starts in about three weeks, I move back to Milwaukee in two. Last night, when I was thinking about this, I had a mini-revelation.

I haven't completed any art in almost three months.

Three fuckin months without finishing a single piece of work. I've started drawings, and I've mapped out paintings, but I haven't finished anything. This is not good. Two years ago, I couldn't go a day without completing at least one drawing, and revising several others. Last summer, in between looking for work, I managed to finish three paintings. And what have I done this summer? I started a sketch and actually defined some of the lines. That's not all I've done, but it's the furthest I've gotten on any specific piece of work. This is not good. Art is a very big part of my life, and I've been neglecting it. I go to art school, yet it's gotten to the point where I hardly do any art outside of classes. I've heard stories from graduates about this sort of thing happening, where they were overloaded with work in class and stopped doing it outside. Started doing art not for the enjoyment and only for the grade. By the time they graduated, they had burnt themselves out.

This possibility scares me.

........ and the feeling is gone now. Apparently I've discovered what it is I'm supposed to. Time stop: 11:57am. Only took me an hour and 32 minutes to have a major personal revelation. Not bad.

I'm out of cigarettes and I'm angry.

EDIT: I just got my cigs, and when I came back, I found an iPod Shuffle in my front yard.

This brings up an interesting dillema. Do I attempt to find the owner, or keep it for myself. I have no real need for it, since I have an iPod Mini, but finding the owner might be rather difficult, since there is a garage sale in the neighborhood today, and thus a lot of people from not around here have been passing through...

current mood: and irate

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Thursday, August 3rd, 2006
6:57 pm
Woah...my power cord just shorted out in this slightly cool, slightly frightening burst of sparks and ozone. Had to change my shirt due to the smell.

Now that's another new thing I need. Current online searching looks like a new one will cost me about $80.

Damn fuckin' spiffy.

current mood: annoyed

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