*snorfle*
It has been over a month since I updated this bitch, and I have massive amounts of completely useless shit to write that none of you wanted to hear anyway, I bet.
So. February ended, which is good, because February is a shitty month anyway. I hate February. February can blow me, and that includes Valentine's Day, which I hate whether I'm single or not. BOYS ARE HARD TO SHOP FOR. SO ARE GIRLS. I hate shopping for other people. There should only be two times that I should have to shop for another person - if it's their birthday, or if it's Christmas.
Mom and I are starting our own tailoring business, with a focus on cosplay and theater but with openings for custom evening and formal wear too. There will be a website as soon as I get everything loaded onto my domain, and convince my mom that Paying For My Domain Is Now A Business Investment, No Really so I won't ever be two months behind on my hosting payment again.
I still have masses of artz which have to be inked, scanned and colored. I literally have stacks. There's a whole section of my binder devoted to shit I have to finish. This is including a MASSIVE surprise-in-progress for rip_sama, who definately deserves it after the massive shitbucket life has dumped on her this past year. I promise I'll hop on that, sweetheart, but it might take me until next Christmas, knowing how fast I work.
Most of my spring break was actually spent peeling wallpaper. I woke up Saturday and taped off places that we didn't want paint getting on. I peeled paint-covered wallpaper vynil off the walls on Sunday. Monday and Tuesday were spent actually peeling the wallpaper. Wednesday, dad and I floated the wall. Thursday, I WAS DONE. I DID NOTHING ON THURSDAY. *glee*
Friday was spent trying not to gag on paint fumes and cleaning up for....
SATURDAY'S MASSIVE PARTY
There were crawfish, and there were also lots of friends, good stories, good times, and good snuggles with teh manpet. AND VODKA. We musn't forget the vodka, because that spawned many of the good stories and good times. Good snuggles with the manpet, however, can be had whenever I see the manpet. There is not need to give vodka the credit for snuggins.
I am now in possession of a Retarded Left Hand, however. Yesterday during school it started spasming and seizing up. At first, because my dad has Crazy Nerve Seizures in his hand, my mom and I went Oh Shit, and immediately made an appointment with the family doctor.
However, this morning I woke up just fine. I had some sharp pains in my hand if I held something too long, or just randomly if I moved it the wrong way (which seemed to be every time I moved it), but no Crazy Nerve Seizures. I have lost range of motion and strength in that hand, but when I went to go see Doc, he didn't seem worried.
Doc G: Take some Motrin for a couple weeks, and if you don't get better, then come back in and we'll look at it. You probably just did something stupid when you were at the party. Like playing guitar until all hours of the night.
Me: But I do that all the time.
Doc G: You probably did something different this time. In the meanwhile, a good rule of thumb is "if it hurts, don't do it."
Me: *smiling wryly* Doctor, doctor, it hurts when I do this!
Doc G: *also smiling* Then don't do that. Go take your Motrin and call me if it doesn't get better.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love that he is my doctor?
The only bad byproducts of this is that I'm having to learn how to type with only my right hand, which is taking me a really long time, and my karate instructor is now calling me Retarded Arm Woman.
I sulked. And then I kicked him. So it's all good.
And! Also! When I got home today I got an acceptance letter from Earlham College in Richmond, Indiana. For those that are keeping tally, that's three.
So. February ended, which is good, because February is a shitty month anyway. I hate February. February can blow me, and that includes Valentine's Day, which I hate whether I'm single or not. BOYS ARE HARD TO SHOP FOR. SO ARE GIRLS. I hate shopping for other people. There should only be two times that I should have to shop for another person - if it's their birthday, or if it's Christmas.
Mom and I are starting our own tailoring business, with a focus on cosplay and theater but with openings for custom evening and formal wear too. There will be a website as soon as I get everything loaded onto my domain, and convince my mom that Paying For My Domain Is Now A Business Investment, No Really so I won't ever be two months behind on my hosting payment again.
I still have masses of artz which have to be inked, scanned and colored. I literally have stacks. There's a whole section of my binder devoted to shit I have to finish. This is including a MASSIVE surprise-in-progress for rip_sama, who definately deserves it after the massive shitbucket life has dumped on her this past year. I promise I'll hop on that, sweetheart, but it might take me until next Christmas, knowing how fast I work.
Most of my spring break was actually spent peeling wallpaper. I woke up Saturday and taped off places that we didn't want paint getting on. I peeled paint-covered wallpaper vynil off the walls on Sunday. Monday and Tuesday were spent actually peeling the wallpaper. Wednesday, dad and I floated the wall. Thursday, I WAS DONE. I DID NOTHING ON THURSDAY. *glee*
Friday was spent trying not to gag on paint fumes and cleaning up for....
SATURDAY'S MASSIVE PARTY
There were crawfish, and there were also lots of friends, good stories, good times, and good snuggles with teh manpet. AND VODKA. We musn't forget the vodka, because that spawned many of the good stories and good times. Good snuggles with the manpet, however, can be had whenever I see the manpet. There is not need to give vodka the credit for snuggins.
I am now in possession of a Retarded Left Hand, however. Yesterday during school it started spasming and seizing up. At first, because my dad has Crazy Nerve Seizures in his hand, my mom and I went Oh Shit, and immediately made an appointment with the family doctor.
However, this morning I woke up just fine. I had some sharp pains in my hand if I held something too long, or just randomly if I moved it the wrong way (which seemed to be every time I moved it), but no Crazy Nerve Seizures. I have lost range of motion and strength in that hand, but when I went to go see Doc, he didn't seem worried.
Doc G: Take some Motrin for a couple weeks, and if you don't get better, then come back in and we'll look at it. You probably just did something stupid when you were at the party. Like playing guitar until all hours of the night.
Me: But I do that all the time.
Doc G: You probably did something different this time. In the meanwhile, a good rule of thumb is "if it hurts, don't do it."
Me: *smiling wryly* Doctor, doctor, it hurts when I do this!
Doc G: *also smiling* Then don't do that. Go take your Motrin and call me if it doesn't get better.
Have I mentioned lately how much I love that he is my doctor?
The only bad byproducts of this is that I'm having to learn how to type with only my right hand, which is taking me a really long time, and my karate instructor is now calling me Retarded Arm Woman.
I sulked. And then I kicked him. So it's all good.
And! Also! When I got home today I got an acceptance letter from Earlham College in Richmond, Indiana. For those that are keeping tally, that's three.