"Can you help me out, can you lend me a hand? It's safe to say that I'm stuck again..."

Could complain, but can't be bothered.
Could explain, but that takes the mystery out of it.

I'm sitting at work, contently babysitting the isolation panel and wishing I had my paints with me. Though, I do like it here even without them. This old building makes strange sounds and even stranger smells... many of which make me hungry. But I bought an avodado with me! And THREE slices of bread!
The making of a grand, albeit working, night.

silly drunken behavior (check)
the guilt vanquishing feeling of house cleaning (check)
one plan for a romantic sunrise (check)
some creative splatters on canvases (well... three out of four ain't bad)

Too many drinks were accompanied by good friends, little sleep, and the spontanious decision to sleep in a tent at a party we practically crashed.
The first few drinks beginning at our place ensured that I got off my lazy butt and cleaned the house.
Instead of painting anything I spent the Sunday lazying about, tired, hungover and contently playing games with the rest of the part crashers.
The anniversary sunrise at Mt. Nebo turned out to be a package deal with a boy on one knee, a promise of forever and a diamond ring that sparkles in the sun.

As you can imagine, I'm a bouncy little ball of happy today.

I'm at work, wishing I wasn't, for once, which I rarely ever do. You see, I like my job.
But it's the Friday before a long weekend (for me) filled with the possibility of silly drunken behavior (my favorite kind of behavior), the guilt vanquishing feeling of house cleaning, one plan for a romantic sunrise and, if I'm lucky, some creative splatters on canvases I'm yet to buy.

So it's understandable that, even though I like my job, I sit here restless and fidgeting and watching the slim white hands on the wall clock tick by like they're drowned in molasses.

Apart from drinking half my weekend away I was actually sort of productive.
It feels good to be productive.
(Actually, it felt even better to be out drinking!)
I has been painting. A lot, actually... mostly spurred on by short notice deadlines (venue need art = me paint all night), but also spiked from joining Mealie on stage in the mall for Big City Draw.
If you ever have a chance to see Francesca de Valence live, do it. Beautiful voice, beautiful soul.


Proof that I is productive.


I paints live in city. I draws with little kitties. I paints new stuffs. I hangs stuff in Verve.


I can't think of a better feeling then the one I got this afternoon when my boss called me and told me she'd rostered me on too many hours this week, and that I don't need to go in tomorrow.
I get paid the same either way.
AND it was only last night that I realised I could use charcoal on canvas... tomorrow will be a fun day, I'm thinkin' :)

Ebay and Paypal are the bane of my existence.
Also, I think I've forgotten how to knit... I'll have to remember this weekend.
Oh, drat. Weekend. I only get today. Tomorrow I have to go embarrass myself by painting on stage. Live. With people watching. And I'll be wondering for five hours why I ever agree to do it in the first place.
I'll have to remember how to knit next weekend... because I'm still in my pajamas today, and I have no intention on leaving the house till I have to go to the movies. Good morning. The end.
Here's some ink stuff, to distract you from my rambling.


She's hanging somewhere public at the moment.

On another, similarly related topic, little kitty is sleeping cozily on my lap with stitches.
No getting knocked up and becoming a single mum for my little baby!

Slack slack girl with the lack of ink these days.
I cross my heart and promise to be better? Probably not. But here's today's start:



Drafted some paintings too, but not overly happy with them. I'd like to paint the butterfly lady on a meter canvas. Might do that tomorrow.

Oh, have I whinged about my new job yet?
No?
There's something new... maybe... could I possibly... like it?
Whoah.

I'm being a cranky girl that doesn't play well with others.
I don't always like new people.
How childish is it that I'm still this antisocial? No... really?

I wish I'd drawn something cranky and depressive to post, but I drew yesterday... and yesterday I was in a better mood.




Mm... dreams.

The first I had a chance to scribble on the plane, the second was drawn in a Townsville pub while waiting for the boyfriend and boyfriend's brother to install a plasma.
I haven't been lazing... I draw... I just take time with the uploading.



Can't spend Easter with my family. Despite the traffic, I really wanted to, but flus and immune compromised people shouldn't mix. Damnit.
In other news, I love this weather.

Have to leave the purries and puppies for a whole three and a half days. I feel sick in the stomach and I don't leave until the morning.

Plane flight might give me time to draw. Drawing is my main goal. There's not much I can achieve before I'm that one year older, so I'm hoping I can get better at about the only thing I know how to do.



Someone asked me today if I was still in school. I resisted the urge to whine for the fifty millionth time that I never went to high school, but if I had I would have graduated in 2002. That's more than six years ago, freak.
It's not his fault I wore piggy tails to work.

Aw, damnit, I need a new source of income.
There's not enough work at one of my jobs, so everyone's losing hours, and there's too much work at my other job, so they're employing someone else so that we can both work, but for less time than I'm working now.
Stupid economy.

In other news, my leg is being slowly eaten away by tiny little teeth.
Alexis (aka New Kitten, aka Substitute for Not Being in Egypt for all of March) has her front teeth coming through. Which means she is about the age the refuge told us she was and not substantially younger like the vet proposed.
She's also a very very cute little purrball, who is totally worth staying home for.

P.S. I draw more.

Nothing sensible...
... but somethings.




Am thinking that disbanding my art room and the boyfriend's music space to combine them into one general purpose Arts/Music studio was not a waste of effort... I know, I know, it was my idea, so naturally it was going to work out great... but that was a damn heavy desk to get down the stairs... and I'm not sure I can learn to put the lids back on my paint tubes (also known as; can I learn to share my creative space?).

I'm gonna sing the doom song now, "doom doom doom doom..."

Is it bright where you are? Have the people changed?
*yawns*
Got up on the wrong side of bed this morning. Well, I got up on the usual side, but you know what I mean. I'm in a bad, sad mood and for no obvious reason.
*yawns*
And still tired.
I wish I drew more often.
I'm customising a My Little Pony today... I need more challenges.
Am thinking about looking for a new job. The two I have don't pull in the desired income... or maybe I think I'll be able to have an extra week of holidays if I convince myself that I'm looking for something better.
Sick Kitten is a lot less sick now, but Big Cat came home last night with a smelly, slightly oozing war wound... it always evens out.
Dad's still sick, though... still waiting for that one to even out.
I think I'd like to do something productive today.

And that all comes shattering into little fragmented pieces.
I loathe this see-saw life.

I'm so tired of being so miserable.

I watched the outside world from the safety of my blankets and thought, this has to end someday.
Nothing better than deciding that today was that day.
Stretched across the couch, laptop on my legs, room with a view of the empty sunday streets.
Where's my cheshire cat when I need one?

This weekend can't work out what it is. Is it a work day? can I go back to bed? is it summer? is it raining? Will anything be open? It smells like winter.
It sounds like I'm confused, but I'm not, it's this weekend.

Soon I'll get to go watch a game of soccer, and go bowling... never thought I'd be writing that. Then I'll go shop for some sensible clothes for the new job I've just started - with ever so much regret.
And for a few hours everything will be fun, and perfect.
Until tomorrow, when the week starts again, quickly esculating into the parts of the week I hate the most.

But there'll be paint. And there'll be challenges. And at least there'll be cash. And at the end of it all, there'll always be those few moments before falling asleep, with two heartbeats snuggled in the same blankets, two dreams entwined together, giving eachother the strength to face tomorrow. And that's why I'm determined to be happy, because at the last moment of every day, I am, so there's no reason not to be now.

I guess this is my belated valentines day remark.

God, don't we all love the need for money?

Desperately needing second job.
Hoping for the return of 24hour life.

Searching for that beauty that came so easily to the world through my eyes.
Wanting my sentences to make more sense than they do.

Imposter. You stole my sould.

"I really don't write here often, do I?" she asks the blank text box.
I forgot that it was January.
I guess the new year came with less melancholy than usual, so I didn't notice the change over.
But here we are, back in black.
At least the hair's cute.

I'm watching the Count of Monte Cristo, waiting for the dye in my hair to set, wondering for the seventeeth... or maybe eighteeth... time why I've just gone from blonde to brunnette on yet another change-induced impulse.
It's eight thirty in the morning.
It's over-cast, so I really shouldn't be complaining, no matter how upset I am.
I think I should probably draw.

This is my life. It's not what it was before.

Will all the mistakes just fade away?
Will I wake up some day, and have all the bad things I've done replaced by better ones?

These are my words, that I've never said before. I think I'm doing okay.
This is the smile, that I've never shown before..."

So I look around and everything is suspended, just waiting to be alright.
At least, it used to be everything.
Not now, and never again. Because something is perfect, and always was, but now that I can say it, it's allowed to be.
And perfection isn't easy to come by, but some of us get lucky.
Ever so lucky.
And ever so wrapped in the breath-catching freedom, and endless contentment, and... and my fingers are running off with the faeries... no! No, faeries, do not take my fingers!

Insanity, insanity, la la la la la.
Good day.
Zzzzz...

Every day has at least one song.
"how's that halo, just between you and I?"

It's another one of those double days. When even though you've seen the sun rise and set twice, it's still one day.
A long, drawn out day that becomes blurred and unrecognisable.
Intense. Not my intense that I miss so much.
Confronting. We've had this discussion, I said it in a good way, remember?
Put all of the good and all of the terrible on the scales, and the outcome never matters.
Did you leave smiling?
And that's all that matters.

"Nothing in my life ever stays stiil," I typed, with tired fingers. And the rest is in someone elses hands.
It should have been a bad day, no?
But here I am, with rain-licked hair, still smiling.
"I'm sure I had a good day," said the blind to the sunrise.
But he never knew the night.