Friday, December 11, 2009

You Must Rescue Us All

Muse moment. I wonder if I should start these journals with, 'Dear Dairy' like I did in third grade (I wonder what ever happened to that diary...). Just having another, 'Oh God I'm Aging' moment; reading an online women's community blog one poster writes, 'I'm turning thirty in a week and wanted to know how you all celebrated/feel about leaving your twenties' in which most replied that they loved being in their thirties (which I felt was good and made me feel slightly better) but was balanced with, 'I celebrated turning thirty with my husband/soon to be husband and children/soon to be child/advancing my career'. Mmmm, yes. I am special. I'm like the freak 6% of society that doesn't interect with people therefore has no boyfriend or signifigant other and has no prospect of interacting with people because I can't get a job because there ARE NO JOBS therefore; no money to go out, no money for car insurance, no way to socially interact, life goes on in an unending circle of nothingness. Oh YES i rock.
Hadn't meant to start it like that. Let's try again;

Dear Diary,

I have been busy lately. I finally got Etsy started and sold something; so it's a start. I am making more things to sell and thinking how I can make my Etsy site more well known. I meant to write, dearest diary, more often than this but being the Holidays (ho ho ho) I got distracted with the scramble to find decent presents for my loved ones that are under the twenty dollar mark (most of which will be handmade but its okay because I rock at the handmade things)
The December Bookarts group rocked my world; I made some connections with other Etsy gals and have joined another crafting group. I have some people interested in looking at my portfolio and am in the process of making an anime portfolio for another company. I have tons of art ideas in the mill I'm getting to and feel like there isn't enough time in the day to get all of it done.
Met up with good friend to go to the local art museum that had an awesome exhibit and had a most amazingly awesome SOCIAL day and hopefully we will be getting together to go out for a Starbucks Christmas coffee/cocoa.
Brother is coming home on the 19th; am comencing in getting my guards up and steeling myself to not react to whatever asshattery he comes up with on his visit (relationship with brother being strange in that he's only civil to me when he's a thousand miles away and when in close proximity is complete and utter asshole. Example being last Christmas when I was moved to actual violence and came VERY close to clubbing him with a baseball bat, no I am serious, because he managed to throw poisonous darts of fucking viciousness every chance he got. My favorite being about the dog; MY dog whom I have had and taken care of like my own child for the last fifteen years was dying and when asshat brother wasn't chiding us for not putting him down said to me when I failed to foresee the dog crapping on the rug that, 'You must really not love that dog'. Same dog that I had to put down two months later and damned near broke my heart and still makes me cry even though it was eight months ago. I spent Christmas day locked in my room writing out all hatred and anger I was feeling and refused to come down to dinner to sit at the table with him. So yes, brother and I do not get along and the only way to make holidays bearable is to ignore him until he goes away)
Deep breaths. I don't know why people love the holidays so much; it's basically one stressfilled month and a half until idiot relations go away and you can get back to a routine. Not to mention the extreme pressure on all sides, you must be with someone, you must be happy, you must dress in red plaids (puke), have Christmas cheer, charity, happiness when seriously if you're not a child then its just another day. Nobody even acknowledges the real existance for Christmas is, HELLO, to celebrate the birth of our Savior. Dear God, try telling that to the modern age; 'your religious aren't you?'
What a sucky world we inhabit. I think this is becoming my rant and rage journal.

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