Throw-down at the Drafting Board
Uh... well, the coherence of this post explains why I will be drawing tonight and not writing. Hooolllyyy.... D:
Return of my SECOND favorite method of self-torture:
Yeah, okay. Apparently the comic is a ridiculous hobby that I can't quit. Sort of like LJ-Flist-refreshing and compulsively re-zipping the zippers at work. YES the zippers are supposed to be kept zipped. At the same time, I end up feeling moderately crazy the tenth or twentieth time I check the same display to see if the zippers are all zipped. Today I didn't check the padfolios all day and they were all unzipped at closing time. ALL OF THEM. THIS WILL NOT DO. So, yes. I zip zippers. Lots of zippers. All day.
So I'm going to try and get a new page of the comic out, and try not to cringe too hard at the anachronisms and doom that I create.
Oh no! MONEY! AAAH!
I did something weird when I calculated how much money I was going to be making (haha ha...) and am having another "OH MY GOD WHY DID I PROMISE TO PAY MORE RENT !??@?@?@" moment. It will pass. Tomorrow I will see about donating plasma**. I mean, whatever. If I was donating plasma, then I could feel extra bonus productive while reading. Considering my Amazing Diet Of Mostly Rice And High Protein Stuff Too I'm sure that my plasma will be beautiful. Did you know that if people eat fast food before donating plasma, it's all cloudy and gross? They can SEE the fat in your blood! D:
Why not make money while I'm sitting around reading? Yeah, that's what I thought, too. (Assuming you said, "Yeah! Why the fuck not." Otherwise, not so much.)
Don't worry, I have started looking for a Real Grown-Up job. The kind that lets normal people buy houses, and lets me go to conventions and buy books, books, and more books. And for fun, some books.
Transitioning Costs the Moolah.
Some of you already know that I'm transgendered. Well, okay. Now all of you do. I kind of oscillate as far as how public I want to be about it, but we are now in a caffeine/Eiffel 65 induced daze of boldness as far as the grand anonymous cloud of the internet goes.
More importantly, I have actually taken a proactive step toward doing something about it. "SOMETHING" in this case means seeing a therapist first, since Gender... Dyswhatever... is still classified under the DSM-IV*. There's a normal method to all this, sort of. Or there was. Is. Could be.
Anyway, I have no idea how fast this all will develop, and exactly what I will end up doing. Even if there was a definite order that must be followed for all this stuff, it probably wouldn't apply to me anyway, because that's usually how things go. I am a little freaked out about transition right now, I suspect that is due to the fact that I have been turning this stuff over in my head for the past THREE AND A HALF YEARS and putting it off for school. Well, school is done. My excuses for delay! They have dried up. And my only reasons for wanting to delay are based on being worried about what other people would think, not about how I actually feel. Yeah, I know. My priorities in that are pretty much just suck.
I want to be as open about it as I can bear because, honestly, most people don't really know all that much about trans people. I say this because I didn't even know that female to male transsexuals existed until I was 20. Well, and because eventually I'm going to be going by male pronouns long before I look the part, so... there. That's enough about that for now.
Booooo....
I can't find the old Moralicide script. It's somewhere on one of these hard drives, but just WHERE it is defies all attempts to decipher my filing system mess of files. Oh well. It probably sucked anyway. I like how I'm pretending I can draw a page in less than a week. Ha! Oh, me.
Also, I haven't watched television regularly since freshman year of college... so... about six years exactly, now. I get SO disoriented when people talk to me about TV. Someday, The Simpsons will go off the air and I will no longer have any ability to comprehend television conversations. What, girl? Timmy fell down a deserted island full of bad singers?
*This is a confused rant for another day. Long story short? I don't know how I feel about that! So there! Every time I try to muster transRAGE, I end up going, yeah, well... so you have to deal with mental illness stigma. Wah. Maybe the MENTAL ILLNESS STIGMA is fucked up? Huh? What do you think of that, Keffy? (I dunno.)
**I'll probably think too much about my blood going out of my body and whizzing around in a machine for a while before going back into me and get squicked out. ... yeah. Ew.
Return of my SECOND favorite method of self-torture:
Yeah, okay. Apparently the comic is a ridiculous hobby that I can't quit. Sort of like LJ-Flist-refreshing and compulsively re-zipping the zippers at work. YES the zippers are supposed to be kept zipped. At the same time, I end up feeling moderately crazy the tenth or twentieth time I check the same display to see if the zippers are all zipped. Today I didn't check the padfolios all day and they were all unzipped at closing time. ALL OF THEM. THIS WILL NOT DO. So, yes. I zip zippers. Lots of zippers. All day.
So I'm going to try and get a new page of the comic out, and try not to cringe too hard at the anachronisms and doom that I create.
Oh no! MONEY! AAAH!
I did something weird when I calculated how much money I was going to be making (haha ha...) and am having another "OH MY GOD WHY DID I PROMISE TO PAY MORE RENT !??@?@?@" moment. It will pass. Tomorrow I will see about donating plasma**. I mean, whatever. If I was donating plasma, then I could feel extra bonus productive while reading. Considering my Amazing Diet Of Mostly Rice And High Protein Stuff Too I'm sure that my plasma will be beautiful. Did you know that if people eat fast food before donating plasma, it's all cloudy and gross? They can SEE the fat in your blood! D:
Why not make money while I'm sitting around reading? Yeah, that's what I thought, too. (Assuming you said, "Yeah! Why the fuck not." Otherwise, not so much.)
Don't worry, I have started looking for a Real Grown-Up job. The kind that lets normal people buy houses, and lets me go to conventions and buy books, books, and more books. And for fun, some books.
Transitioning Costs the Moolah.
Some of you already know that I'm transgendered. Well, okay. Now all of you do. I kind of oscillate as far as how public I want to be about it, but we are now in a caffeine/Eiffel 65 induced daze of boldness as far as the grand anonymous cloud of the internet goes.
More importantly, I have actually taken a proactive step toward doing something about it. "SOMETHING" in this case means seeing a therapist first, since Gender... Dyswhatever... is still classified under the DSM-IV*. There's a normal method to all this, sort of. Or there was. Is. Could be.
Anyway, I have no idea how fast this all will develop, and exactly what I will end up doing. Even if there was a definite order that must be followed for all this stuff, it probably wouldn't apply to me anyway, because that's usually how things go. I am a little freaked out about transition right now, I suspect that is due to the fact that I have been turning this stuff over in my head for the past THREE AND A HALF YEARS and putting it off for school. Well, school is done. My excuses for delay! They have dried up. And my only reasons for wanting to delay are based on being worried about what other people would think, not about how I actually feel. Yeah, I know. My priorities in that are pretty much just suck.
I want to be as open about it as I can bear because, honestly, most people don't really know all that much about trans people. I say this because I didn't even know that female to male transsexuals existed until I was 20. Well, and because eventually I'm going to be going by male pronouns long before I look the part, so... there. That's enough about that for now.
Booooo....
I can't find the old Moralicide script. It's somewhere on one of these hard drives, but just WHERE it is defies all attempts to decipher my filing system mess of files. Oh well. It probably sucked anyway. I like how I'm pretending I can draw a page in less than a week. Ha! Oh, me.
Also, I haven't watched television regularly since freshman year of college... so... about six years exactly, now. I get SO disoriented when people talk to me about TV. Someday, The Simpsons will go off the air and I will no longer have any ability to comprehend television conversations. What, girl? Timmy fell down a deserted island full of bad singers?
*This is a confused rant for another day. Long story short? I don't know how I feel about that! So there! Every time I try to muster transRAGE, I end up going, yeah, well... so you have to deal with mental illness stigma. Wah. Maybe the MENTAL ILLNESS STIGMA is fucked up? Huh? What do you think of that, Keffy? (I dunno.)
**I'll probably think too much about my blood going out of my body and whizzing around in a machine for a while before going back into me and get squicked out. ... yeah. Ew.