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Okay, Storm of Swords, I forgive you. That was delicious. LONG AS HALE AND FULL OF OBNOXIOUS CLIFFHANGERS, but delicious. Lots of interesting happened here. A Feast for Crows is on the table next to me, and I'll begin inhaling that at work within an hour. And then......idk. Maybe I'll abstain from book binging again because LOL MY FREE TIME. Or maybe I'll reread the Aurian books cause I remember enjoying them but that was when I was an idiot child so maybe they suck. We'll see.
A thank you for the patience of the three who have me under commission at the moment. I can't do digital work while I'm in a tollbooth, so the going is slower than anyone would like. I'm off Monday, though, so I ought to put a good dent in things, mojo levels willing. God, I am so obviously not cut out to be an artist professionally if this is how it's gonna be. This realization is sobering, depressing, and outright unsurprising to my cyincal, self-hating self. Even the priest gets at me with the whole "stop beating yourself up gurl", rofl. :[
All my best to your mothers today, flist. Near, far, healthy, ill. Doesn't matter. I used to have a bit of resentment for my mother when I was younger. She had more fun with my little sister, and I bonded better with my father, so I'd always assumed there was a distance there--there was, but it was my making, not hers. Even now, I take note of every single moment we have a laugh together. Like yesterday. If I'd have stayed so prickly like I had in my stupid hormonal middle/high school years, I'd miss out on this shit. I'm doing something right, it seems. Even if I won't be the stellar, studious nurse daughter like her youngest.
I sometimes wonder what it'd be like to have a kid. How amazing it'd be to have someone to share stories and fun little secrets with and dote on them and watch them grow up. I don't think I ever will, though, and I know my mom and the rest of my friggin' family always says "That's what they all say!" whenever it's mentioned, but really. I don't think I could do good by a kid if I can't take care of myself wholly. I entertain the idea of adopting, but that's something to consider way, way, waaaay in the future. A more finanically and emotionally sound Elle could consider that, maybe.
And I guess I feel a little strange now that my parents seem to accept the fact that I may never get married. Or rather, there's less of a point made on me needing to seek someone out. That's all speculation and bound to change from day to day, because seriously, you never know, but. Hm. It's stranger now, I guess. Not alarming or hurtful or wonderful, just strange. Maybe it's because of what happened last summer when I had that little problem, and they don't want me to crack again while I'm doin' my thang in the tollbooth? Idk. I'd like to pretend I'm made of sturdier stuff than that.
I'll get me to a nunnery. (They wear comfortable shoes)
A thank you for the patience of the three who have me under commission at the moment. I can't do digital work while I'm in a tollbooth, so the going is slower than anyone would like. I'm off Monday, though, so I ought to put a good dent in things, mojo levels willing. God, I am so obviously not cut out to be an artist professionally if this is how it's gonna be. This realization is sobering, depressing, and outright unsurprising to my cyincal, self-hating self. Even the priest gets at me with the whole "stop beating yourself up gurl", rofl. :[
All my best to your mothers today, flist. Near, far, healthy, ill. Doesn't matter. I used to have a bit of resentment for my mother when I was younger. She had more fun with my little sister, and I bonded better with my father, so I'd always assumed there was a distance there--there was, but it was my making, not hers. Even now, I take note of every single moment we have a laugh together. Like yesterday. If I'd have stayed so prickly like I had in my stupid hormonal middle/high school years, I'd miss out on this shit. I'm doing something right, it seems. Even if I won't be the stellar, studious nurse daughter like her youngest.
I sometimes wonder what it'd be like to have a kid. How amazing it'd be to have someone to share stories and fun little secrets with and dote on them and watch them grow up. I don't think I ever will, though, and I know my mom and the rest of my friggin' family always says "That's what they all say!" whenever it's mentioned, but really. I don't think I could do good by a kid if I can't take care of myself wholly. I entertain the idea of adopting, but that's something to consider way, way, waaaay in the future. A more finanically and emotionally sound Elle could consider that, maybe.
And I guess I feel a little strange now that my parents seem to accept the fact that I may never get married. Or rather, there's less of a point made on me needing to seek someone out. That's all speculation and bound to change from day to day, because seriously, you never know, but. Hm. It's stranger now, I guess. Not alarming or hurtful or wonderful, just strange. Maybe it's because of what happened last summer when I had that little problem, and they don't want me to crack again while I'm doin' my thang in the tollbooth? Idk. I'd like to pretend I'm made of sturdier stuff than that.
I'll get me to a nunnery. (They wear comfortable shoes)
