A Bigfoot a Day Keeps the Lonelies Away

One of these days I'm going to be rich and famous and everyone is going to want to get my autograph as they stand in line at a Barnes & Nobel for my book signing. But until that day comes, I'm going to be posting random little sketches here and there for illustrations in my current book idea. I'm not going to lie, I have tried to write books in the past. All have failed (obviously) and gone unfinished for countless years. So this time I'm going to start small. Recently I have decided that I want to "find myself" and actually make up my mind on what I want to do for the rest of my life. To start that I had to actually accept myself for who I really am. It's taken a long time (and by long time I mean about 20 years or so) to be able to accept the fact that I am an artist. I love to create things. I love making things, doodling things, pushing random notes on an out-of-tune piano, writing things, critiquing things, making stupid parody songs. As a child and throughout my life I've made comics. Small strips of stupid characters that never amounted to things. I've done Garfield comics, stick figure comics, a comic about smiley faces named Yucko Bucko and Wacko Jacko, that one comic with the island mimes, Buttwad (my favorite although it was a group thing), and this blog. My graphic arts teacher in high school told me that I should become a comic artist because being a female in the comic artist world was a big feat and there needed to be more of them. That of course was said before he saw my horrific photoshop skills and didn't start to hate me for constantly talking in class and distracting other students. But along side my comic making, I also attempted to write books. Not too long ago I was reading through my 5th grade diary (what a nightmare that was) and found a few entries talking about two books that I had tried to write. Then I remembered that I had tried to write another and another and so many others that I had forgotten about. And I've had a college professor (for a writing class I might add) tell me that I'm a pretty good writer. So then I got to thinking: If I like to draw comics and doodles and make little characters...and I like to write books and stories, why not just combine them into a children's book? It's short and it's simple. It can't be too difficult to finish because I'm starting small and working my way up eventually. I have an idea that I'm working with. I have all the characters and their names and a simple plot/storyline. But I don't have much of anything for the writing part and I'm somewhat struggling with character design. I have two (possibly three) for sure-sures on characters, but there others...I'm at a complete loss. I'm really hoping that this isn't another one of those projects that falls by the wayside. But if it is, then you guys can just enjoy my doodles here and I'll weep endlessly over my lack of actually finishing something. That sentence made no sense and I don't care. But before I keep rambling on and on about it I'm going to post the drawings of my two characters.

These lil guys are set in stone for how I want them to look. Busby is the main character and Sabina is a friend/neighbor of his. If you can't tell, my characters are mostly cryptids. I think I am going to make Busby's eyes a little bit smaller and yes, I purposefully made their left nostrils bigger. Eh...I might as well show you guys my maybe character...

This is Terrance. He's a tree octopus. And somehow I made him look like Stewie which was NOT intentional. I want him to be deep south-esque with the facial hair being his tentacles. You know, since the tentacles technically surround the mouth for real-real on an octopus. But he looks funny and I don't know if this is how I want him to look. That's why I didn't color him. Also, I don't know what color I would even make him. But he's up here nonetheless. I have two more characters to make. One of them I'm completely at a loss in trying to make. I CAN'T FREAKING DRAW BIRDS!!! And the other, I'm torn between two designs. But whatever I guess. I'm gonna go though cuz I'm hungry and I need to wash my work clothes. Deuces. 

Ummm...What? I Am Seriously Confused

Okay...so I have not looked this up or done any research on the subject, but I am sick and tired of all these images (if they can be called images) all over the social networking sites saying that marijuana causes cancer cells to freeze and keeps them from reproducing. A cancer cell is just a mutated cell. It's not all that different from a normal cell. If marijuana causes cancer cells to freeze and keep from reproducing, wouldn't it do the same thing to a normal healthy cell? I am seriously asking. I don't want to sound like an over-opinionated fool trying to sound smart and stop the legalization of marijuana (although I am against it). I don't know...I just think it sounds like a terrible argument. Actually, I think most of the arguments for the benefits of marijuana sound terrible. "It's not addictive like alcohol is!" Well, yes it is. People can be addicted to anything...I've see My Strange Addiction. "It's better for you than alcohol!" That may be, but it still doesn't make it good for you. "You can't overdose on it!" Well, you can technically, but you can seriously harm yourself and/or others while you're high as balls just like with any drug. "I just do it to relax!" There are more constructive ways to relax. Take a hot bath, read a book, play a game of solitaire. And I'm sorry (not really), but when the highlight of your day is the fact that you made pot brownies, you have a serious problem and I feel bad for you. It's sad really and kind of pathetic. And if this posts offends any users out there...get over it. I don't give a flying fuck. (Yes, I seriously just wrote that). And that would be the end of my rant. Good day.

Taking a Stab at Something New

So lately I've been looking up creepypastas because I love being scared. And I think I'd be really good at making some creepypastas. I don't know. I have this idea for one, but I feel like it won't be very good at all. Obviously I'm not looking for it to catch on and go viral, but at the same time...that would be pretty darned cool. My idea for the creepypasta is based on reality. Something that has actually happened to me. You know how in my last post I was talking about dreams and how they're real to me? Well, when I lived with my parents I was plagued almost monthly with demon dreams. Each dream would progress in intensity. For instance, I would have a dream where demons would be attacking a city and to save everyone I had to pretend I was a demon until I could eventually overtake them. And then a few weeks later I would have dreams where I was sitting in a bar and a group of demons walks in carrying a cross and crucifying Jesus in front of me (and only me) with red candles and then light the candles and laugh at me (that one disturbed me...a lot). And then a few weeks later it would actually get to the point where I would be possessed. I don't remember the last time I had a very intense demon dream. Like I said they only really happened whenever I was at my parents house which I think is really strange and I really don't like going back there. Especially because that creepy Snuggle Bear moves around on its own. Anyway...there was this one demon dream that really stuck out to me which I wanted to use as a creepypasta, but I don't know how start it. So I'm just going to say my dream and if anybody out there wants to form it into a creepypasta and post it all over the internetz feel free. You'll probably take the credit for it and all, but honestly I don't care because I already know it happened to me personally and internet arguments are never a good thing.

You know how dreams always start in the middle of an event and you don't really know how you got to where you are, but it still makes sense? At the time, most of my dreams were in the third person. I would be me, but I would be witnessing somebody else's dream or the main "character" would be someone else and I would be watching in a birds-eye view. It wasn't like I was someone else and I would be going through the motions in somebody else's body like a lot of peoples' dreams are; I was actually watching the events go on like a ghost. Nobody would notice me. I was just a phantom. Well, that's how this dream started out. I was floating up in a corner of a room. Somebody else's living room. Nothing was going on. I was just watching a family go through a normal day. There was a son and a mother that I can remember. But they didn't know I was there. Nobody EVER knew I was there. But the front door opened in this family's living room and a man walked in wearing an orange Hawaiian shirt. And as soon as he walked in I knew he was a demon. The first thing he did when he stepped into the room was look up in the corner of the ceiling where I was and he smiled. It was a malicious smile. It scared me because there was no way of knowing that I was there. I was so scared that I shot awake and I looked over the side of my bed and I swear on my life that I saw a figure standing next to my bed staring at me wearing an orange Hawaiian shirt. Of course when I shot up and blinked a few times it disappeared, but it still scared the crap out of me. It still freaks me out. I hate going to my parents house especially if I know I have to sleep there. It's the worst. And that's it. That's the scary dream/waking life event that has scarred me for forever. The end.

Money and Planning is Never Fun

So I'm just going to rant and rave about my stupid money issues here because I can and because I've been doing math for the last hour trying to figure out how to afford things. I want to save up my money for a puppy and for a new computer and maybe...maybe for a house. I don't want to jinx anything about a house and I know it's really stupid to be looking for one right now cuz we're super poor, but I really hate living in apartments. They're expensive and small and you can't do anything and you will always have annoying neighbors with yappy, little dogs and loud banging in odd hours of the night. I hate my neighbors if you can't tell. Ugh! They are so annoying. They constantly stomp around and they have this little, ugly, stupid dog that barks at EVERYTHING it sees and hears. I want to kill it. Literally. I would shoot that thing if I could. Steal it, skin it, package the meat, put it on their doorstep, and wear the skin as boots. And when the boots have gone out of fashion, I'd use them as toilet paper and watch it drown in my fecal matter. That is how much I hate that dog. Anyway, back to the money part...I have done some math stuffs trying to determine how much money I'll have by the end of the year/my birthday through saving and I will still be really poor. My savings account is full of spiderwebs right now, but hopefully I'll get some stuff in there. I'm trying to budget things and not spend unless I absolutely have to which is pretty difficult for me. I hate being impulsive. Anyway...I can't decide if I want I want to save my money for. I REALLY want a puppy. Cam does too...but the dog that we want is about $875 I think...and then it costs $425 to ship it out here. So that's $1300 just for the puppy alone. Then there's vet costs, food costs, micro chips, collars, tags, cleaning supplies, toys, and pet fees for the apartment. It bums me out. Cam said that we'd get on the waiting list for the dog on my birthday. But my math is not in the green from my calculations. Granted that's only from my income and I've been estimating low, but still. I think Cam is going to start is own savings account. I don't know how that's going to workout. It makes me nervous cuz he's not as good with money as I am. I don't know. And I really want a new computer. I hate Cam's computer. Windows 8 confuses the hell out of me. I try to click on something and then something else pops up and then it tells me that I can't do something and I get pissed and give up. Buuuuuut...when I look at prices on the Apple Store's website I go into a deep depression. I can't decide if I want to get a iMac or a MacBook Pro. An iMac is what I want, but for the time being, a MacBook is more practical. There isn't space in this tiny apartment for a desk for an iMac, but I think we'll be moving out of this place 7 months (and to be honest, I don't even think I'll have enough saved up for a new computer in 7 months), so I don't know what I'll get. I think the iMacs are cheaper. And I like the feel of a mouse a million times better than a trackpad. But if I got the iMac I'd get a trackpad for it anyway. I just don't know what I want. Is it weird that I like to fake plan? That what this whole day has been for me. I've been doing monetary calculations and planned out my whole life for the next 2 months even though I know none of it is going to happen. It makes me feel safe...cuz I'm a control freak. And I hate the unknown. It makes me nervous and I feel like I'm going to drown. I totally need drugs (and by that I mean prescribed drugs). Not that I'd take them anyway. Oh! and another thing I would add to my list of things to save for: a tattoo. Yes, I know I'm a heathen for wanting one (or 20). But I've always wanted tattoos so the whole world can suck it. But I don't know if my skin would react well with ink since it's so sensitive and hates me. Well, you know what, skin? I hate you, too! It's been getting better a little bit. By this time last year I would have been covered in one giant rash from head to toe and I've only got a little on my wrists and a patch on my neck. And two years ago I would have basically been trapped in my house and the year before I would have been crying cuz it hurt so bad and would have been trapped in my house and wishing that I could illegally purchase steroids to make it better. Maybe by this time next year it'll be all gone and I'll have perfect skin again (yeah right). I'm so optimistic...not. I'm not optimistic, I'm not pessimistic, I am realistic. And proud of it. I have a feeling that this is going to be a really long post because I have to much to write about. Maybe I should divide this into different sections so it flows better. Oh my goodness, so the other night I had a dream about my dad. It was the strangest dream I think I have ever had. If anybody is reading this, which I highly doubt, you should know that I am really weird about dreams. I think dreams are real. More like...I don't know how to explain it. Dreams have meaning. I feel like dreams are a way of conveying a message whether that be from my subconscious (or a sixth sense), someone else, or something else. This is going to sound extremely crazy, but sometimes I think dreams happen in a different dimension. Like our souls leave our bodies and float around in the astral plane and our physical bodies try to interpret what we see or have seen. That sounds really kooky and I don't even care. But I think this because my dreams are so vivid and slightly realistic and they freak me out. Anyway, back to my dream about my dad...since it was a few days ago, I don't remember all the details. I should have written it down, but I don't know where I put my dream journal. But I dreamt that my dad was okay with me. It is the first dream I've had about my dad where he wasn't yelling at me or angry with me. The first one ever. That's why it stuck with me. It was so weird. Gosh, I wish I could remember the details! I told Cam, but I highly doubt he remembers cuz I tell him my dreams all the time and they probably just blend into one another. But my dad basically told me he cared about me and that he was okay with me not going to school. He told me that everything was going to be alright. It disturbed me. Ever since I can remember I've only had dreams about my dad yelling at me or getting mad at me for something I did. There was a time that I would have dreams about tornadoes at least once a week and they didn't stop until I realized that the tornado was representing my dad. My mom is rarely ever in my dreams and if she is she's either dead, dying, or had disappeared. My sister only appears in my dreams if she's yelling or angry with me. My brother is only ever in my dreams if he's dead, dying, or has disappeared. That's weird. I should look that up. I need a shower. 

This is a TRUE Break of a Hiatus

Okay, this stupid blog needs to stop asking me to post this to Google+ because I'm not going to post this to Google+. Anyway, I know it's been over a year since I last updated this blog (I think) and I want to get back into it. I've had three days off from work which is immensely crazy in two ways. One, I actually got three days off in a row. And two, I've been going nuts trying to figure out what to do. So whilst being bored and watching LA Ink on Netflix, I decided to whip out my handy-dandy sketch book and just start doodling away. I haven't done that in the longest time. I just don't have time to do it anymore which is really discouraging. I know I'm not the best doodler out there, but sometimes drawing really makes me feel better. To be honest, I feel like I'm getting better at realistic drawings, yet I also feel like I'm getting worse at the comic/cartoon part. I'm still definitely better at making cartoon figures than making something look like it came straight off the camera. I don't know. Anyway, as I was drawing away looking at the super cool tattoos on the TV, I decided to look for my old blogging binder that housed all of my drawings that I had scanned or needed to scan for this here blog. And I found it! I mean I knew exactly where it was, but I had forgotten all of the awesome things that I had put inside of it. I found this weird little comic that I think I drew in one of my art classes (I scanned it and was going to post it, but I didn't realize that it cut off the bottom three inches until now and I'm too lazy to get up and re-scan it) that I wanted to post. And I also thought of this sweet-o neat-o idea. I want to cross-stitch some of my drawings. WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!?!?!?!?! Yes. And just in case you're going to ask (which I know you won't because at this point NOBODY reads this thing) yes, I know how to cross-stitch and yes, I love it. I learned how to do it in my high school crafts class that I took as a BS class to fill up time and I've been wanting to actually make something and hang them all over my nifty apartment because the walls are bare and figured that I could make patterns of my drawings and when people see them they can be all like, "Whoa, man, that's so frickin' cool! I wish I had some of those sweet-o neat-o cross-stitchy artworks hanging up on my wall!" That was the longest run-on sentence I have ever made. Also, yes my friends would talk like that because I'm pretty sure that most of them are high all the time. And to answer your other question: no, I am not high all the time, I am not high now, nor have I ever been high. I know some of you might find that surprising, but I really have no plan on using drugs. Hugs not drugs, kids. Anyway I think I'm going to skedaddle and leave you with a drawing of a little cat that I named Sebastian and a little fox that I named Foxy :)

Breaking the Hiatus

I am nearly positive that nobody reads my blog anymore. That is mostly my fault since I haven't posted anything in quite some time. Anyway, I am here to talk about the greatest game on the internet...ever. Felicia Day had mentioned something about it in one of her Flogs (which I don't watch, but one of my friends does) and now I am hooked on it. It's like Telestrations but online with millions of people. My drawings aren't the best considering I have to draw everything with my stupid little trackpad. But anyway it's really a lot of fun and if you're not playing it I highly recommend that you do! If you want to check out my profile and my drawings, you can look at it here. I suppose that's all I wanted to say so I bid thee a farewell...

Titles Are for Those Who Have Time to Think of One...

So I'm sitting here before my English class begins. I just realized I'm wearing socks with moccasins. Totally meant to wear actual shoes today. Anyway, I have just wanted to let you all know that I am going to try to start comicing again soon. Probably not this week since I work so much, but soon. I do have an idea for a rage comic, but I wouldn't want to post that here. Or maybe I will. I don't know. My ears are cold. Oh! I got my new driver's license today! It looks terrible, but I don't really think that matters since I'm going to get a new one in six months. Unless they use the same picture o_O I don't know why I'm writing here today. There's not really much to report. I shall continue later!

Thank God for my Parents

In all my years, I never thought I would say those words. This month and last month have definitely been the hardest on me financially. There have been more unexpected expenses in the last two months that have just drained me of everything I have. I owe my parents so much now and I am so thankful for them. Especially my dad (definitely NEVER thought I would say those words). Thank you God for the father you have given me. As most of you know, I've been struggling with God for...most of my life. More so after I went to Huntington. Huntington was the worst thing that could ever happen with my relationship with God and for the past two years, I am ashamed to say that He was nearly absent in my life. Well, this year, as a bit of a resolution, I decided that I need to get back to Him. I started out small with prayers throughout the day and I tried a different approach with praise instead of just "Hello...I'm walking to class and talking to You at the same time..." And it worked. For the first two weeks of class I felt better and things were going well until Doubt came in. I started thinking that God is only helping me for now and that soon it'll go back to the way it was where I'm ignored. And as soon as that happened, everything started going wrong. I got angry, reclusive, and stressed. But last night I got that song stuck in my head that goes "I will cast all of my cares upon You..." I don't really know the rest of the song, but I tried it as hard as it was to do it. Trust is so hard, but I have what I need now. I just really hope that this one resolution is one that I stick to...

Pink Bullets and Billy Mays

My finger keeps hitting the caps lock button and my other finger keeps hitting the semi-colon instead of the letter "l" and it's kind of annoying. Anyway, I have about 5 minutes before I need to head to class. I don't entirely remember what classroom number it is, but I'll figure it out. I am so happy that I don't have to work until Friday. I want some days to do nothing...except I won't be able to do that because I'll have homework. So just a random thought, I hate statistics. I don't understand it and we haven't even gotten into the numbers part yet. But I shall have to finish this post later so I can get my shoes and coat on and head to class...

2012: When the World Ends Before It Begins

So I know this post is about 12 days to late to really be talking about the new year, but I haven't really had the urge to write until today. And it's not so much an urge as it is a you-should-write-because-you-haven't-in-a-while. Well, here I am writing. I should be comic-ing, I know. I actually had one drawn up, but I seem to have misplaced my markers and haven't had the funds to buy new ones. It sounds REALLY lame, but I was $200 short on paying rent let alone bills last month and this month will probably turn out similar. They've been cutting everyone's hours at work and it's really hurting me. I won't be able to buy books this semester. And of course it's the semester that I actually need to have the books unlike last semester where the teachers said we needed to get the books, but we really didn't. I don't know what to do. There are a lot of things I need to get for the house and myself also, but I don't know how that's going to happen. I just got gas today too...I hate money and the need for money. I should be getting to bed soon.

Unfortunate Friends

I haven't posted anything in quite some time and I apologize for that. If you haven't heard the news from someone, Cam and I are now engaged. The funny thing is that the happiest person about this isn't Cam...or me; It's my brother :P haha. But that sad thing is...through this big, momentous happening, I've found out just how little friends I (/we) have. I know I've said before that I don't have friends, but now it's like, "Wow...I really don't have friends..." There have only been about 10 people that have congratulated us. That's including family. Granted, it's not like Cam and I have been together for all that long or have been notorious for being the "oh they're totally going to get married some day" couple-without-being-a-couple. But honestly it really upsets me that no one cares. Probably one of the biggest and most hurtful is that a person I've known since the second grade and that I have considered one of my best friends for that long, and whom I live with hasn't said one word to me. I know she knows about it. There's no way she doesn't. But would it kill her to even ask if it's real? And another person whom I would consider a best friend has talked to me, but seems like they're ignoring the fact that it happened. This really makes things difficult planning-wise. Most of you know that I don't have many girl friends. Never have. I just don't get along with girls. But the two girls that have been some of the closest girl friends to me and whom I would put in the wedding party haven't said one thing. It just really seems like they don't care about me. I'm not going to ask someone to be there for me on one of the biggest days of my life if they could care less about it. Who am I going to make my bridesmaids? It's really stressful because Cam already knows everyone who he wants to be his groomsmen...and I don't have anyone. I have one person. Brett. The greatest best friend anyone could ever have. But my dad doesn't want Brett to stand on my side. That's another thing. My dad. He doesn't seem too happy about this whole thing. He still wants to hang on to me forever (which is weird because he has never showed any sort of affection toward me). I don't want my dad to give me away. I never have. Ever since I was little, I had always wanted my big brother Michael to give me away. He's been more there for me than my dad ever has, is, or ever will be. But my dad won't let that happen. I feel like...just how everything else in my life...this wedding has to be for my dad's approval. This isn't going to be Cameron and My day, it's going to be my dad's. I have to pretty much settle for Michael being an usher...and I have to put Mark in it. I don't want Mark in my wedding. I barely know him. I lived with him for 2 years during school. Most of which I was either at jump rope practice, with Brett, or shut in my room. And then for another year which I was either out with friends, working, with Cam, or shut in my room. He isn't anything to me. Sure I care about it. He's starting to feel more like a family member, but not enough to put him in my wedding. I suggested making him the person that passes out programs or something, but of course to Dad, that just doesn't cut it. Where else am I going to put him? Also, my dad doesn't approve of the attire. Both Cameron and I want everyone in the wedding party to wear chucks. But no, Dad doesn't like it. We wanted a restaurant to cater for the reception, but nope. Dad knows a guy who can cater. Since he (and I use that very loosely) is paying for this wedding, I suppose he does have some say in the food, but I don't want him to pick and choose who my closest friends are. He's controlled me for this long, but I really just want to put my foot down this time. Yes, I don't have very many friends. I only have 2 people who can be my maids and one of them is waaaaaay up in the air, but I don't want my dad to put people in my life that have never really...been in my life. This is supposed to be one of the most memorable days of my life. I want to remember it as the best day ever. Not a day where I put on a happy face and pretend everything is okay. I do that every day. And it's not how I want the beginning of the rest of my life.

Common Sense Needs an Operator's Manuel

Famous Letters: WBC

I have decided to indeed start my "Famous Letters" series that I talked about in my post yesterday. I actually was not going to start out the series by writing to the Westboro Church, but since I've read two Facebook statuses involving them today, I decided to look them up. I knew who they were (obviously...they make themselves well known and have actually been in the town in which I was raised), but I didn't quite know everything that their little establishment was all about other than protesting against homosexuals and American soldiers (both of which irk me to no end. I could literally cry from both anger and sadness from their ignorance because of this).  Back to looking them up, I type in "westboro church" in my address bar and their website godhatesfags.com pops up. I could literally spend hours ranting about that alone, but I won't. Anyway, I have decided to email them and not send a letter. They would probably come to my house and stand outside of it for hours shouting about how I'm going to hell because I wrote on paper and I'm sure paper promotes/encourages homosexuality. Anyway, I was looking through their "GodSmack" blog and I just could NOT hold it in anymore. I want to know where they are getting their ideas. Read this, please. It's one of their "GodSmacks"...

Catholic Girl’s Silly Idols

AMAZING!  CATHOLIC CHURCH IN NEBRASKA DEFENDS GIRLS RIGHT OF RELIGIOUS FREEDOM AND EXPRESSION!

A 12-year-old was banned from wearing her rosary idol at school because gangs had adopted the rosary as their symbol.  “I’m wearing a cross necklace, a cross T-shirt and a cross bracelet.  I’m thinking of how Jesus died on the cross and how he gave up all his sins for us.”  WTF!?!  Omaha Archdiocese said, “the corruption of something as beloved as the rosary disgusts the church.”

[T]hey are mad upon their idols.  (Jer. 50:38.)

GodSmack!

These are they who put WBC on trial for standing on the Doomed american flag. 

How shall I pardon thee for this? thy children have forsaken me, and sworn by them that are no gods:  … Shall I not visit for these things? saith the LORD: and shall not my soul be avenged on such a nation as this?  (Jer. 5:7&9).

I love how it says "WTF?!" in the middle of this post. That is very professional. I love how in their contact us it says that they won't respond to profanity and yet they use it themselves. Guess what, WBC, "what the fuck" is profanity. Okay, I just read their "About Us" page and I am literally crying. I have a bloody nose. I cannot tell you that last time that I got a bloody nose, but I can't help but feel like it was meant to get me away from my computer to not send this letter. I highly doubt that it will be responded to, but if it does then it should be a doozie! Okay here it is:

Dear WBC,

Just as a background, I am a 20-year-old student at Purdue University. I have been struggling with God for about a year (or two) now and I have some questions. I know that personal messages are not guaranteed, but if you do happen to respond, I would like to keep it confidential. If that is totally not an option then, I'd be okay with a response on your blog. I also apologize in advance in my questions sound "foolish and unlearned." I am curious and genuinely confused and would like to know more about your religion.

My first question: Do you consider your religion to be of the Christian faith? I wasn't quite sure since your denomination is Baptist which is of the Christian faith, but some of your beliefs by definition aren't Christian. If you do consider yourself a part of Christianity, I have more questions. I thought that Christianity was supposed to be the safe-haven. The place where people could go without being condemned. Where they could be loved. I don't find that here and it makes me scared.

Second question: Is God really hateful? I was always taught that God is love. I noticed that most of your supporting verses are from the Old Testament where God was more wrathful than He was in the New Testament. Does your religion not believe in John 3:16 and 17? Both of those verses seem to go against a lot of your ideology wherein God is Hate and that He wants to condemn the world. I can't help but see similarities between your god and the god of Islam where Allah is very angry and wrathful.

Third question: Jesus is part of the Bible, but I didn't read anywhere on your "About Us" page that said anything about believing that He is the Son of God. Do you not believe in Jesus being the Christ? Jesus' teachings were all about following his example. Loving everyone and not judging people were part of these examples. These topics also contradict your beliefs. Does this mean that God contradicts Himself? How does that make your religion any different than the other contradicting religions in the world?

Fourth question: Is your religion only based on sexual impurities?

Fifth question: Why do you use so many ellipses in your Bible quotes?

Thank you for your time. I apologize again if any of my questions were offensive.

Love,

Kristina

In the Next Four Days

I'm supposed to be finishing up my childhood diary in four days. I told myself I would write in it once a month to finish it up and complete ten years of my life. That never happened. I kind of wish I would have though. There are some very interesting things in there, but not much has happened since I've stopped writing in it. And honestly, this blog has become more of my diary now. I really don't write anything different in here than I would in there. But I'm really only writing this post so you know I'm still alive. I know no one reads this, but it's almost been a month. I would like you to know that I have an idea for a mini-series (I'm still not sure if I want to go through with it or not) and I have an idea for my next comic. I really liked my last one where I had panels. I think I'm going to stick with it. I'm trying to come up with a comic idea that I can continue (kind of like the buttwad series I never posted), but I'm really out of ideas. I actually do want to put buttwad up here, but I might have to redraw them all so they're easy to understand and not on lined notebook paper. I don't know when I'll have time to do all of this until I'm out of college, but I really do want to post it up here. There are so many ideas that I have for this blog, but I can never go through with them because I don't have a large enough viewing community! :( It makes me so sad. If only I could be famous and have a million followers. I'd have the 2 series I've been wanting to start. I'd have a shop and be rich because of it. In a way I feel like I should make a separate blog and ONLY post comics up there...or I could just reorganize this one. I could label them. I don't know. Hopefully tomorrow I can start drawing my next comic. I don't know when I'll have time to make more. I think I'm going to go now...

Wake Up Falls and Unanswered Phones

Here I am, just laying in my bed. I am at a lack of tiredness as of the moment. And I need to work in about 6 hours. I couldn't sleep earlier so I called Cam and we skyped for a little and I either fell asleep on him (which was pretty much my whole intention...sort of) or the battery on my computer died. So I had been sleeping for about and hour when I hear people stomping into the house...of course all of this had been all jumbled up into my dream so I brushed it off until I heard a loud boom and a blood-curdling scream. Bam. At that moment I shot up and was like "What the heck is going on?!" I hear lots more stomping and yelling and slurred yelling and try to decipher what just happened and whether it needed my attention or an ambulance's. This continued for about 5 minutes and none of the noise died down. I figured everyone had gone out and got drunk and now they were all yelling at each other, so I decided to (very reluctantly) get out of bed and tell them to shut the eff up. I get out of bed and Tracey is frantically walking around and I'm not quite sure what happened next but I know I angrily told her about a scream that woke me up and she said that something had fallen on her foot. Okay, so next I go into the kitchen and try to tell everyone to quiet down a bit (at this point I did not know the extent of everybody's drunkenness) and Tracey's friend Jake is like "Oh, sorry, Kristina!" and hugs me and Stephanie is like "Have you had some cake?!" and Mikey's dad is like, "Christina! Take me away! Take me away!" and Mikey is like, "Yeah this is totally his first beer..." Tracey comes up to me explaining that everyone is drunk out of their minds and that she's handling it and that I should go back to bed. I don't know if any of you know this, but it is IMPOSSIBLE to get away from a drunk person who wants to talk to you. And I was surrounded by 4 of them. Tracey was trying her hardest to take care of them, and if I didn't have to get some sleep I totally would have helped her. A back massage, 2 other serenades, and a yeah-me-and-the-fork-go-way-back later, I finally got away. I've tried twice to call Cam to no avail, so I'm here writing this blog post. About halfway through writing it sounded as if Tracey got everyone to bed, but I'm not tired. I'm going to try to go to bed now. I really need to get some sleep. I haven't gotten much in the last week and the next week isn't going to be much better...

There Really isn't Enough Time in the World...

I am taking time right now out of my ever-busy schedule to write this post. I am tired. I am exhausted. I am weary. I am fatigued. I am this excerpt from the dictionary on my computer: Tired is what you are after you've cleaned the house, spent two hours reading a dull report, or trained for a marathon; it means that you are drained of your strength and energy, without giving any indication of degree. Weary, on the other hand, is how you feel after you've had to interrupt your dinner five or six times to answer the phone. It implies not only a depletion of energy but also the vexation that accompanies having to put up with something that is, or has become, disagreeable. Exhausted means that you are totally drained of strength and energy, a condition that may even be irreversible (: exhausted by battling a terminal disease). Fatigued is a more precise word than either tired or weary; it implies a loss of energy through strain, illness, or overwork to the point where rest or sleep is essential (: fatigued after working a 24-hour shift). Tuckered is an informal word that comes close in meaning to fatigued or exhausted, but often carries the suggestion of loss of breath (: tuckered out after running up six flights of stairs). I need to be working on my peanuts right now, but I just don't have anything in me to do it. I've pooped about three times today which I'm pretty sure isn't good. I've been looking for information for my speech because my outline is due on Wednesday. I have so much to do. I've done quite a few things today off of my to-do list. I called Pay-less back asking about my application/interview. She said she hadn't looked at it yet and that she would call me back in 15 minutes. Well, that was almost 3 hours ago. I had to go to a computer lab to save my designs on Franklin. Tracey went with me and we walked into a lab that said "OPEN" and when we got out it said "CLASS IN SESSION" so we have no idea what was going on. I finished my math homework fairly quickly. It was only 7 questions and they were all about time and area. Super easy stuff that I got right on the first try. I was very proud of myself. Tracey just came into my room and told me that I look like death. Yeah...I feel like death. Is it bad that this is only a 100th of how I felt at Huntington? I was literally a zombie. Or really more like a robot. A zombie-robot? I went through the motions and I was dead inside. I felt nothing. I remember nothing. And I honestly don't want to. Now I want to make about post about zombie-robots. Actually I don't. But I need to get going. My peanuts are still unfinished.

Ugly Peanuts and Dirty Hands

So for my drawing class this week, we've been drawing peanuts. I hate peanuts. I can't draw peanuts. The only way my peanuts look normal is if you are halfway across the room and squinting. My hands get covered in charcoal and it sucks. Grandpa is watching a movie about the KKK. They're killing the guy right now in a gas chamber (and by "the guy" I mean the guy who was in the KKK and was on death row). It's over now. Anyway, I'm just writing a post so you all know I'm still alive. The post before the last one was pretty emo...complete with poetic suicide. I must say that I'm throughly embarrassed by it, but I'm not going to take it off. I hide and cower from people all the time, so why hide things with my blog? I actually think I'm going to go. Hope you all enjoyed the last blog! :)

This Genius Idea of Mine

I Don't Feel Like Writing a Title

Today, I discovered that I'm a bitch and an asshole and that I expect to be treated like I'm special and better than everybody else. I had no idea that I was this way. But I've come to the conclusion that it is the reason I have no friends anymore. I really honestly don't want to be treated any different than anyone else. I actually prefer to be treated like a piece of shit. New things scare me, so being treated like a king freaks me out. And I'm not better than anyone else. I am worthless. And I truly believe that. I'm writing this for myself; I'm not looking for your "Oh, you're not and asshole"s, your "You're not worthless"s, or your "Yeah, you totally are"s. I don't care. Keep your opinions to yourself this time. (Not that you've expressed your opinions/feelings before.) I don't know how to change. Do I have to do the opposite of what I usually want to do? I'm so confused. So lost. I don't even know who I am anymore. I'm going to try my hardest to avoid everyone today. I'm going to have to be in Pao for about four hours everyday this weekend and Monday anyways, so it shouldn't be too hard. I'll spend my time in my room instead of out in the living room this week, and when Friday comes around I'll quietly collect my things and leave for home. But it's not a home anymore. I don't have a bed. A place to stay. A place to escape. Where do I go? I keep having the urge to maim myself in some way. As punishment for how I've treated everyone I know in the past. I didn't mean to. I didn't know. And I'm sorry to those of you who are reading this right now if I've been a bitch or an asshole to you. Feel free to cut all contacts with me. This is why I need to be alone. So I don't hurt anyone anymore. I've always told myself that I'd be alone because I didn't want to get hurt, but now I realize that it's because I don't want to hurt anyone else. I am the worst person on the face of the Earth. I deserve to drown on a sidewalk in a torrential rain just like the worm that I am. I'm not fit to be around people. I think maybe next year I'll get an apartment by myself a couple miles from campus. I think that would be best for everybody. Or maybe I won't go back to school. It'll look bad that I quit school for a second time, but I really don't think college is for me. Bad things always happen when I go to school. I want to disappear off the map. Just leave and go someplace new. Change my name and start over. I'll get a job in a factory or a warehouse and work most of the day. Go back to my house, eat, sleep, and go to work. Like a robot. That's all I'm really good for I suppose. I have to skills other than doing what I'm told to do. I need to get ready to leave for Pao.

I wrote a poem this morning. I haven't written a poem in years. It's untitled.

Somber is as somber lies

My heart gives up with my tear filled eyes

There's tragedy in everything

I close my eyes and sprout my wings

The longest dream I've ever had

A cold, dark room of pine wood clad

Ending is as Ending calls

A quiet peace, a lifeless doll

Midnight Movie Times

I changed my mind on making a whole new post. I was going to make it of Tracey and my adventure back home from South Carolina, but I can't draw cars too well, so I decided to give you one section from it here about The Avengers preview at the end of Captain America: The First Avenger. Keep in mind that it was two in the morning and I had been waiting for this teaser for a VERY long time...

That is me on the left...and I just now noticed that I forgot to color in one of the hearts (oh well) and Tracey is on the right. I didn't feel like drawing movie theater seats behind us because it's just too much work...Oh and P.S. I didn't actually say, "Tracey, I think I need to change my pants." It was a bit more vulgar and disturbing, but I cleaned it up for you all here. The end.

*UPDATE*

I forgot that I was going to put my other drawing that no one knows of on here. You know, the one my dad wants to put on furniture? Well, I scanned it and my scanner is to small so it cuts everything off, but it's okay for now, I suppose. I threw it on an image editor to make the lines darker, but it really doesn't do it justice (not that it deserves any in the first place...). The end again.

Oh, and it was my first time ever drawing a face and an eagle and feathers so, no judging. I know I keep saying that, but I really, really, REALLY mean it. My life and sanity depend on it right now because I DON'T show people my drawings. So, once again...no. jud. ging.uh. (the "uh" must be pronounced. It 's the only way something can be properly emphasized. But be sure to slur the last bit of the "guh" sound from the "ing" into the "uh" sound...I'm going to stop before I keep confusing all of you.)