About me- My Family
Sometimes I think about Livejournal and I feel guilty.
I mean, I have a dozen friends that I've made on the internet, that don't really know that much about me, on the principle that I'm really not that interesting.
I've had no sexploits, no secondary education and most of my time is spent on the internet, where I tend to be a near-non-entity, even among the 'communities' I'm part of.
I suppose all of my hunkering down in school has succeeded- I am effectively invisible. I have to make an effort to be noticed, and making such an effort makes me feel sick to my stomach- I'd liken it to standing down-range on an archery field.
But at the same time, I have made friends, and good ones at that, and they don't know that much about me because I don't talk about myself.
And what are these journals for, except to talk about yourself?
But what do I have to talk about? I've pared myself down to the barest bits to try and conserve energy.
I like comics. I like manga and american comics, and wish I couldsell enough art to support my habit- but mostly the art I sell goes back to supporting my con habit, which is around to support how much I love looking at Cosplay. I like dolls and action figures and light fiction. I can take a drawing and turn it into clothing, which I'm given to understand is pretty cool. I like dancing- which I never do, so I have the energy to do other things. At about 25 I realized I really wanted to do musical theatre- hampered by the fact I'm key-deaf and can't really dance. I can't even play a drum. I am musicaly unable, but I am a pretty good performer.
I have trouble accepting compliments, and gifts. I'm fairly quick at washing dishes, and I can cook fairly well, but I rarely do, because 75% of the time, food makes me hurt. It doesn't seem to be allergies, my gut just responds to food with a few stabs of intense pain. I have a tattoo- lineart from the Comic Finder Because I find things for people. I'm the only person in my direct family with a tattoo. I kind of want more, but haven't because they'd show when I cosplay.
I kind of want to be a bartender, but I'm scared. I'm mildly allergic to cigarette smoke. Also antibiotic cream. I'm mostly asexual, of a monogamous personality, and love to hug people.
I like roses, and sandlewood, the colors pink, black, white and forest green. I look good in blue. I'm blond and the fact I'm going dark at the roots- even though most of my hair is still kind of golden- bothers me. Mostly it bothers me that it bothers me.
I worry that I hate trolls too much. Isn't hating them just completing the cycle, even if I never tell them that they're horrible? They must know they're horrible. No one could say that kind of shit without knowing it. (Though if you say 'nazi faggot pedophile' out loud, it becomes mildly amusing I don't know why. Don't do it in subway though)
My father died Of complications arising from treatment of lukemia in 2002, I think I have trouble remembering. I was in England at the time. I loved my father, and it's hard to talk about it. I dont' like talking about missing him, which I do, because my mother loves him so much. It's probably harder for her.
He was a crazed engineer which is kind of like a mad scientist, and it makes me sad that my new freinds will never get to know him. He loved my mother so much that he kind of spoiled her, and made me understand the concept of 'your wish is my command'
My mother is a self employed artist with an mental inability to settle. She can't decide what she wants to do, and tries to do it all. It's exhausting being around her. I mentally know that she's very impressed with me, and proud of what I accomplish, but I can't shake the feeling that nothing I do is good enough, because she knows I'm good, so she expects me to be better.
I admire her very much, but sometimes I wish there was something I could do to help her.
The world seems to line up to be fairly convenient to her, and she has a mental block when dealing with computers. So do I so... yeah. It makes it hard not to follow suit to try and do everything I can to make her life better. But then I like doing that for everyone I love.
My Older Brother is very hard to take. He always has been. He was the pretty, smart, talented child. His hair stayed brushed, he had good manners, his clothes stayed neat, he was responsible, he got good grades, and frankly, the other kids didn't tease him as much, because he didn't respond as much I guess. It worked for him. He HATED the town we grew up in with a passion that was surprising, and mind boggling. Sometimes I worry he hated our parents for not being what he wanted them to be. Sometimes we can talk, sometimes we can't. We really don't understand each other, and I think that makes it harder. Sometimes I wish he'd just give up on us, if he's so determined to distance himself, because I think that would make it easier. Then I feel bad, because I know it wouldn't. I love him alot, and wish that I could be as good friends with him as I am with my little sister, but I don't think we ever will. I think he thinks we disapprove of him because we don't understand him. So when I think he's disproving of me, I try to keep that in mind.
He's a kind of yuppie, and it makes me smile. He carries around more electronics than I think I own. He likes sports- the Bruins, I remember, games and some comics. He went to school for theatre, worked at a circus, traveled alot, and now works at *Privacyplz*, and is taking psychology courses.
He makes me think 'bless his pointy little head' and I keep forgetting to friend his new journal.
My younger brother is ALSO hard to take. He's autism spectrum and very high functioning, but... I wish I could help him too. I think that if he managed to get a job outside the home, he'd be more social and more happy. But he comes off badly, and BOY do I understand that. He writes alot, and reads alot, and likes putting everything in categories. Sometimes I think if he asks me 'what's your favorite' one more time I'm going to scream- but that's because I have trouble picking favorites and he takes things so SERIOUSLY. He likes Sentai shows. I get jealous of him because people always compliment his art, because when he's talking about it, he displays so much life and personality. And the rest of the time, he's kind of a Sasquatch. or a Wookie. Let's go for wookie. He has issues about guns.
My little sister is kind of awesome. She's stylish, and clever and witty, and has an amazing ability to draw little details and take her time doing things. I just want to get things done and tend to rush. She's hates crowds, loves fashion, likes sewing and the sims. She worries alot too. She's full of quirks, and has a voice that sometimes makes me want to slap her, but it's totally not her fault. She's depressed alot, and I see alot of myself in her. Which is kind of depressing.
We get along very well, liking many of the same things.
She's a proud prude, and sick of everything being about sex all the time. So am I, but I just learned to accept it, because people respond better to bawdy laugh than an exasperated prude. She tries really hard, but is so spacy she can forget what she's doing while she's doing it. Which is kind of impressive if you think about it. She's got long hair, which she dies black and is afraid of the sun since she got a sunburn so bad her skin smelled like cooked meat. She is WICKED pale. We buy her SPF 80. She listens to lots of music and spends alot of time meditating to it, trying to get herself in order. She's an excellent photographer, and has good instincts for designing clothes and fashion. I'm trying to get her to start a fashion blog. she probably would except she forgets. She likes Punk and Lolita. She's trying to get started making Lolifashions for people. I think she'll be awesome at that. Neither she nor my mother seem to get the idea that people appear to be more comfortable buying things off the rack than made to their order. I don't get it either, but it's what I've noticed.
So yeah. I guess that doesn't count as talking about myself. But without my family I wouldn't be who I was.
I mean, I have a dozen friends that I've made on the internet, that don't really know that much about me, on the principle that I'm really not that interesting.
I've had no sexploits, no secondary education and most of my time is spent on the internet, where I tend to be a near-non-entity, even among the 'communities' I'm part of.
I suppose all of my hunkering down in school has succeeded- I am effectively invisible. I have to make an effort to be noticed, and making such an effort makes me feel sick to my stomach- I'd liken it to standing down-range on an archery field.
But at the same time, I have made friends, and good ones at that, and they don't know that much about me because I don't talk about myself.
And what are these journals for, except to talk about yourself?
But what do I have to talk about? I've pared myself down to the barest bits to try and conserve energy.
I like comics. I like manga and american comics, and wish I couldsell enough art to support my habit- but mostly the art I sell goes back to supporting my con habit, which is around to support how much I love looking at Cosplay. I like dolls and action figures and light fiction. I can take a drawing and turn it into clothing, which I'm given to understand is pretty cool. I like dancing- which I never do, so I have the energy to do other things. At about 25 I realized I really wanted to do musical theatre- hampered by the fact I'm key-deaf and can't really dance. I can't even play a drum. I am musicaly unable, but I am a pretty good performer.
I have trouble accepting compliments, and gifts. I'm fairly quick at washing dishes, and I can cook fairly well, but I rarely do, because 75% of the time, food makes me hurt. It doesn't seem to be allergies, my gut just responds to food with a few stabs of intense pain. I have a tattoo- lineart from the Comic Finder Because I find things for people. I'm the only person in my direct family with a tattoo. I kind of want more, but haven't because they'd show when I cosplay.
I kind of want to be a bartender, but I'm scared. I'm mildly allergic to cigarette smoke. Also antibiotic cream. I'm mostly asexual, of a monogamous personality, and love to hug people.
I like roses, and sandlewood, the colors pink, black, white and forest green. I look good in blue. I'm blond and the fact I'm going dark at the roots- even though most of my hair is still kind of golden- bothers me. Mostly it bothers me that it bothers me.
I worry that I hate trolls too much. Isn't hating them just completing the cycle, even if I never tell them that they're horrible? They must know they're horrible. No one could say that kind of shit without knowing it. (Though if you say 'nazi faggot pedophile' out loud, it becomes mildly amusing I don't know why. Don't do it in subway though)
My father died Of complications arising from treatment of lukemia in 2002, I think I have trouble remembering. I was in England at the time. I loved my father, and it's hard to talk about it. I dont' like talking about missing him, which I do, because my mother loves him so much. It's probably harder for her.
He was a crazed engineer which is kind of like a mad scientist, and it makes me sad that my new freinds will never get to know him. He loved my mother so much that he kind of spoiled her, and made me understand the concept of 'your wish is my command'
My mother is a self employed artist with an mental inability to settle. She can't decide what she wants to do, and tries to do it all. It's exhausting being around her. I mentally know that she's very impressed with me, and proud of what I accomplish, but I can't shake the feeling that nothing I do is good enough, because she knows I'm good, so she expects me to be better.
I admire her very much, but sometimes I wish there was something I could do to help her.
The world seems to line up to be fairly convenient to her, and she has a mental block when dealing with computers. So do I so... yeah. It makes it hard not to follow suit to try and do everything I can to make her life better. But then I like doing that for everyone I love.
My Older Brother is very hard to take. He always has been. He was the pretty, smart, talented child. His hair stayed brushed, he had good manners, his clothes stayed neat, he was responsible, he got good grades, and frankly, the other kids didn't tease him as much, because he didn't respond as much I guess. It worked for him. He HATED the town we grew up in with a passion that was surprising, and mind boggling. Sometimes I worry he hated our parents for not being what he wanted them to be. Sometimes we can talk, sometimes we can't. We really don't understand each other, and I think that makes it harder. Sometimes I wish he'd just give up on us, if he's so determined to distance himself, because I think that would make it easier. Then I feel bad, because I know it wouldn't. I love him alot, and wish that I could be as good friends with him as I am with my little sister, but I don't think we ever will. I think he thinks we disapprove of him because we don't understand him. So when I think he's disproving of me, I try to keep that in mind.
He's a kind of yuppie, and it makes me smile. He carries around more electronics than I think I own. He likes sports- the Bruins, I remember, games and some comics. He went to school for theatre, worked at a circus, traveled alot, and now works at *Privacyplz*, and is taking psychology courses.
He makes me think 'bless his pointy little head' and I keep forgetting to friend his new journal.
My younger brother is ALSO hard to take. He's autism spectrum and very high functioning, but... I wish I could help him too. I think that if he managed to get a job outside the home, he'd be more social and more happy. But he comes off badly, and BOY do I understand that. He writes alot, and reads alot, and likes putting everything in categories. Sometimes I think if he asks me 'what's your favorite' one more time I'm going to scream- but that's because I have trouble picking favorites and he takes things so SERIOUSLY. He likes Sentai shows. I get jealous of him because people always compliment his art, because when he's talking about it, he displays so much life and personality. And the rest of the time, he's kind of a Sasquatch. or a Wookie. Let's go for wookie. He has issues about guns.
My little sister is kind of awesome. She's stylish, and clever and witty, and has an amazing ability to draw little details and take her time doing things. I just want to get things done and tend to rush. She's hates crowds, loves fashion, likes sewing and the sims. She worries alot too. She's full of quirks, and has a voice that sometimes makes me want to slap her, but it's totally not her fault. She's depressed alot, and I see alot of myself in her. Which is kind of depressing.
We get along very well, liking many of the same things.
She's a proud prude, and sick of everything being about sex all the time. So am I, but I just learned to accept it, because people respond better to bawdy laugh than an exasperated prude. She tries really hard, but is so spacy she can forget what she's doing while she's doing it. Which is kind of impressive if you think about it. She's got long hair, which she dies black and is afraid of the sun since she got a sunburn so bad her skin smelled like cooked meat. She is WICKED pale. We buy her SPF 80. She listens to lots of music and spends alot of time meditating to it, trying to get herself in order. She's an excellent photographer, and has good instincts for designing clothes and fashion. I'm trying to get her to start a fashion blog. she probably would except she forgets. She likes Punk and Lolita. She's trying to get started making Lolifashions for people. I think she'll be awesome at that. Neither she nor my mother seem to get the idea that people appear to be more comfortable buying things off the rack than made to their order. I don't get it either, but it's what I've noticed.
So yeah. I guess that doesn't count as talking about myself. But without my family I wouldn't be who I was.