Wow.

Tokyo Jungle is a really really good game. It’s like Sim Ant kind of, which is awesome. I just watched a group of pomeranians scare off a bear (a chimpanzee sort of scuttled by while we were fighting, which is important) using pack hunting techniques, then almost get outflanked by jackals, then get one-shot killed by a boar.
You can unlock dinosaurs.

Everything else is about par for the course, with intermittent attempts to have a life again while trying to determine just how hard I should actually be panicking about dad’s health.

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I still exist.

Not sure what to do with myself, really, so I’ve been on here trying to suss out what the ‘community’ was like.

Haha I was so bad at Lent.

The idea was this lent that I was going to make two pieces a day. Instead, I got sick.
Story of my life.
Anyway, I’m at least working on the phoenix clay project again (sculpy stays pliable over a year’s time! It’s awesome!) and trying to center myself. It’s been really stressful.
So I had a disability hearing the other day, again. At least the judge and my attorney were amazing, but the vocational specialist said that I could work at a ‘sedentary, non impact job like ‘electronics factory’ or ‘cafeteria worker” and they’d totally let me take all the time I need off for doctors and lie down whenever necessary, no problem. He said I could lie down ‘in my car (which we’d discussed that I do not have and cannot operate)’ or, here’s the kicker: ON THE BATHROOM FLOOR.
Sometimes I wonder what planet the 1% really come from. Anyway, yeah, I’m not dead or whatever.

All These Little Earthquakes

Man I am just going 16 year old girl with this blog.  All lyrics in the header.  All listening to Tori Amos.

So after the whole Great Apartment Caper and Hawaii Trip and Family Crap, I *thiiiink* life is settling. Here’s hoping.
In either case, I am no longer quite so blue, for there are many things The Hulkster has to be thankful for (Idunno I’m guessing he does? Like ‘is not dead’ and ‘still has sweet mustache’ are things to be thankful for.)
This is going to sound like bragging because it IS nice stuff, but like keep in mind I am a person who normally thinks that she is to blame for just about everything, like how people see americans, etc.  And yeah, fuck it not being Thanksgiving or whatever I’m just in a mood.

It’s not healthy.  This is.  Don’t laugh.  Wow I’m defensive sometimes.

Okay I am thankful that my cat has decided not to be terrible.  We were cuddled up in bed in a way that animals should not be alright with.  I mean, inasmuch as my arm was pinning her down.  Nothing… yeah I don’t even know.  Anyway, I was laying on my cat (mostly).  And I realized that she loves me.

My mom, who helped me clean up while my cat was sick?  She loves me, too, so much.  She and dad got me the comforter I was on.  Dad’s dog tags from his brief military stint were hanging on something.

The reason I actually KNEW where they were after the move?  Because my best friend Arri came over to help me unpack some few things, just this-and-that.  Because she loves me.  We have known each other since we were REALLY small and she still loves me and puts up with me.

The party I went to tonight was hosted by another best friend and his partner (I had to erase and re-type that a few times because I’m clueless sometimes).  Anyway, they love me, so they had me over (and other people they love, too!  This is my blog, though, so I’m talking about my little piece of it).  Ian, the wonderful man that he is, was going on before hand about how he’s excited to go just to see me for the first time in forever ❤  My friend Susan drove easily over an hour after I hadn’t seen her in a few years just to hang out.  Because she loves me, too, and I hope she can meet more people I know that can speak math with her since I completely cannot.  More people for her to love!

Linmayu also came despite her horrible anxiety because she loves me.  She loves Dave and Josh, too. 😀

What?  It was a really good party.  Austin gave me applejack.  I’m looking forward to knowing him better in time, too, since he’s so important to Dave and Josh and seems like a really, really neat guy.  The other new people were also grand.  We cried together after watching Dr. Who.

My dear, dear friend James is so sad lately, but he still did something personal that very, very much helped me.  He loves me.  I love him, too.  He’s just… the poor guy.  He needs to realize how many of us love him, and how much, though I am VERY thankful that he has Jeff, and that Jeff’s been seeming happier lately, somehow.  Or at least more at ease.

I saw them at LAST weekend’s party, which happened because we love Brian and wanted to see him, all of us locals, and each other, so I got to see so many people that I loved and spend time laughing at some amazingly terrible movies while eating pizza that haunted me for a few days.

Eric’s constant support and his unwavering loyalty and faith in me?  He loves me.  He can’t say it very much, but I suppose he really does.  Not a lot of people will put up with what he does out of just anyone, I suppose, and I need to learn that he doesn’t just put up with me, he ENJOYS being around me.

It’s hard to believe that so many, lovely people don’t just consider me a burden to be endured, but a person to be loved.

And yet I still worry that I’m way off.  Oh well.

In front of me is the ukelele that James bought me in Hawaii, the trip he and Falicia took me on, because they love me.  And I can’t believe I honestly thought they secretly couldn’t stand me.  Yes, it sounds ridiculous.  It does.  But if you were in the mind of someone who is chronically depressed, you’d read the dumbest shit into the smallest things, too, and twist it around to make sense.

We got the ukelele to actually try to learn to play together.  I fixed ours, touristy balsa crap that they were, to work with a bit of ingenuity, or at least to stay in tune.  I did this because I love James, too.

I hesitate to talk about Falicia for a lot of reasons on here, none of them any fault of hers, though.  In my part, however, I love her and she loves me.

Joe is coming to the St. Robert’s rummage to help because he loves me.  I love him so I asked.  It is very important to me, something shared with a few that is so sentimental to me.  I guess 30 years of working there will do that to me, or meeting my best friend there.  Anyway, we’ll be hanging out with my mom 😀

I have this little stuffed monkey over there that hangs on my lamp along with the dog-tags and other important things (like the dream catcher from 7th grade, the one time I truly felt like a part of my school class and saw them as humans instead of puberty demon).  Won that at Kalamari resort, where Jay and Dena went for their anniversary vacation.  They got a few days of a trip so, one of the days, they invited me down and took me to play in the waterpark and fail at carnival games because they love me.  THey took a DAY OUT OF THEIR ANNIVERSARY VACATION to see me.  Because they love me.  That is crazy.  And I love them.  I would sit on all the urine-soaked Greyhound bus seats in the world for nine times as much body-shredding travel just to hang out with them for an hour.  Dena’s heart is so, so wonderful, and she is just BRILLIANTLY funny because of how smart she is.  Jay, too, in a different way.  It’s a bit woman-emotional man-clinical, but not really because Jay has been one of the most generous folks I’ve ever been honored to know.  He’s actually saved me several times.

And yet, for all they’ve invited me places just to hang out and laugh, I secretly fear that they’re just fulfilling some sort of loathed obligation.

Chris Onstad of Achewood needs a hug sometimes.

Yeaaaah.

Jess bought me that little stuffed cheetah on the trip I went to see her because she loves me and it made me smile.

My hair is blue because Falicia loves me and she dyed it.

My skin smells of fry oil because so many people love me.

 

That was a shitload of babbling.  I’m done now.  It’s 5 a.m. and I’m tired.

So I’m in Hawaii and People are Actually Jealous

This is a very silly concept, since all I’m doing right now is getting into a small argument with my friend Phil. He insists that Nazis can and will live at the center of the earth and they’re going to exposit why in this movie he’s going to watch.
Also I have had enough time to have opinions about movie characters.
The snorkelling is pretty fun, though, as is the near-constant low-level worry about whether or not I know where my shoes are at any given moment.

Finishing my big project.

Yeah yeah I know it doesn’t match entirely. My aunt insisted I use these stones.


So this is the product of a couple years of procrastination, mostly since I had to dodge the increasingly impossible demands of both mom and great aunt. Initially, my aunt wanted SOLID GOLD. Mom also wouldn’t settle for anything less than sterling. I also had to use mismatched, differently sized stones. Specific ones.

It’s enough to make you scream.

Eventually, I got the brilliant idea to do my first experiment in precious metal clay. It’s not too bad, but sadly, I can’t really pretty it up further. No time. Need the money for a security deposit (if anyone wants to buy things from http://jeshala.etsy.com so we can afford it… yeah.)
More to come as the day wears on. This will keep me focused. I think.

Tell me of your homeworld, Usul.

Idunno. May have shinies soon. Been saying that for months, but the brain is a pernicious thing.

I was stumbling around the interwebs and came across a mostly neat little entry at http://blog.hostelbookers.com/travel/best-breakfast/

Mostly. There are a couple hilarious little tidbits that make me peer over my nonexistent glasses, arch an eyebrow, and wonder ‘how’s the suburbs, Nancy?’

7. A healthy Hawaiian breakfast – I couldn’t imagine Hawaiians eating anything but fruit to be honest. Of course, there’s the bagel but I’m sure they’d burn the energy from that off in a few minutes on their surf board anyway.

13. An Italian breakfast – a nation too fabulous for heavy breakfasts me thinks. Or maybe they’re saving themselves for a big cheesy pizza lunch and a pesto pasta dinner? (Although there’s nothing wrong with having them for breakfast you know)

Seriously? She can tell you perfectly straight about the chow down in Belize or Mongolia, but when it comes to Hawaii, she thinks they just eat a plate of fruit? Or LOL ITALIANS AND PIZZA AMIRITE?

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