FA+
Shop
attack of the total spaz
14 years ago
Commissions are currently OPEN! See below for more information.
Don't wait for the queue to shrink—the commission docket is rarely empty.I'm sorry I haven't been posting much. :3 You guys will see in about a week and a half what's been keeping me so quiet. Another project for 
anzel -- another book cover. This is what I'd classify as a "project", fersure. When he approached me for it I was like "oh, totes!" and then after about 2 weeks I was like "ohgodwhathaveIagreedto". But it's good practice, and I needed it... it's just, y'know, it can be a little soul-crushing at times.
For those of you still waiting on me, once this is done you'll see your projects wrapped up snippy-snap (but at the highest quality I can offer, I assure you). Believe me, I'm not loving being totally broke this month either, but this is the price you pay for working on a Big Project. It's kind of like an internship that way.
I love working with Anzel. He's a great writer and has the best attitude -- he's always positive, never afraid to offer his suggestions or ask for changes but it always feels like a wonderful dynamic. Freelancers often struggle with clients who want the impossible or ask for too much for too little, and he has never fallen to that stereotype. I love working with him. I love all of my "normal" commission clients, too, but I do apologize to those of you who are still waiting a little longer than my regular waiting list time. This is pretty unusual for me, I admit, but I've had a bit of a rough time here at the old homestead. It's getting better, though, I promise.
Health seems stable. I have a few things I'm a little worried about... trying to bring myself to just shut up and go see a doctor. Nothing I want to disclose just yet, for fear of either a) tugging heartstrings that don't yet need to be tugged or b) worrying anyone into a tizzy over nothing but hopefully I'm okay. I did have blood taken for my first official visit with a new doctor and my husband says if they'd seen anything unusual in the blood they'd have called me, though I'm a bit dubious of such a rosy claim. Doesn't mean I won't go ahead and see a doctor if I worry a little too much, but you guys know I'm kind of a hypochondriac.
I've been very, very quiet these past few months, and I'm really sorry. ;_; My way of dealing with stress is to retreat into video games and to just avoid talking about whatever's bothering me. Some people bottle it up, and I seem to do the opposite -- I just pretend everything's peachy. I guess that's a form of bottling, and I know it's not healthy, but I try to be thankful for the little things and I tend to feel like, if I were going to die in a year I'd just want to not know until the last day. I'm not strong enough to deal with that kind of knowledge. I guess that's the kind of thinking that could get you killed over a simply-cured disease, but, well, maybe that's my fatal flaw.
Switching psychiatrists. The Indian guy was just too irritating. Curt, rude, took phone calls during my meetings -- and that wasn't so bad, but when I had to cancel last week I tried to warn him all week long and couldn't get him on the phone. I then tried to call him the entire 30 minutes I SHOULD have been in session with him, and either he never picked up the phone or the line was busy. I realized then that he didn't deserve my business, and I found another psychiatrist. So I'm seeing her on the 26th. I've managed to make my meds stretch out until then -- not taking them half the time, and it's been fine, really. I can get by on 1/3'd my dose or not at all. No big deal. I'll honestly just be glad to have another doctor who actually cares about me.
Our insurance hasn't paid for the ADD meds, because a) they can be abused and b) some people don't think it's a real condition deserving of reimbursement. I guess I understand that, but it's been rough on the wallet. It doesn't help that the bottle actually reads "methamphetamine salts". I actually laughed when I saw it. It's weird that it helps me so much day-to-day and yet it's pretty much a doctor-ordered version of drugs that I've seen put friends into the gutter. Life is funny that way. I'm not making calls and throwing a bitch fit, but to get a little assistance would be nice, since we're paying for insurance and, y'know, this is something that is helping me survive day to day. I can honestly say after 3 months that I'm a million times better now than I was before. Side-effects... well... I guess those are inevitable. But I'm able to focus now. I can handle a pile of bills without dissolving into a sobbing mess. That's something, I guess.
Going to spend the weekend after Thanksgiving with my Dad and his wife. I call her "his wife" because they've been married since I was sixteen, but she's always seemed to walk this line between seemingly hating my guts and wanting the best for me. She's an odd bird. A journalist from South Africa. She's really fascinating, if also incredibly infuriating. She's embarrassed and enraged me on more than one occasion, is judgmental to a fault, but when I've been in danger or financial crisis she's always expressed concern. I may say she annoys me, but I think it's cute that she's so weird and obnoxious at times. She's quirky, I guess. As my dad likes to say, "she has no filter between her brain and her mouth." I think she just has always been a little envious of the relationship my father and I have because she and her own father didn't really get along all the time... I try to be compassionate about that, because I can see the loneliness in her. I try to love her, because everyone is deserving of love. She doesn't mean to be brash and spazzy. I try to pretend her temper tantrums are cute and not ridiculous. X3 She makes my father happy, and I've seen the way he laughs and rolls his eyes when she acts like a brat. If he's happy, I'm happy. If he can let it roll off him like water off a duck's back, I can too. He's the happiest I've seen him my entire life, even if she seems totally insufferable at times.
Sometimes, salt and pepper just work. I don't try to understand it.
For serious though, when the Golden Turtle (the champagne-colored Ford Escort wagon my Dad got me at age 23) died last year in a horrible auto accident and they got us the shiny new red Jeep, and we went to pick it up from them and Cory's entire family came with, she flipped out and threw a hissy fit at the table where we were eating and stormed out -- no one had any idea why. turns out it's because Cory and I had brought up the subject of beer, St. Arnold's to be precise, and she was angry because she and Dad had been fighting over his having had ONE beer the night previous because he'd lost a bunch of weight after giving it up. Talk about awkward. At the time it was horribly weird for everyone, but in hindsight, it's textbook Lorraine. I've learned to, like my Dad, laugh, roll my eyes, and move on. She's quirky and can seem impossible, but you just have to shrug it off and go with it. She has a history of trying to ruin special occasions (one Thanksgiving she sarcastically thanked my friend Preston for showing up uninvited, humiliating me). But the reality is, I find it amusing, and at the end of the day, that's just Lorraine. I mean, there should be a little cutaway with a cartoon logo of her face going "That's Lorraine!" with some trumpet fanfare or something. It's not horrible, it's just her. I'm no peach on my worst days either, just... not quite so random and volatile, I should hope.
I digress.
Anyway, yes. Weekend after thanksgiving we're going to Beaver's Bend in Broken Bow, Oklahoma. My folks and I went there every summer when I was a kid. We were always broke but it was something we could afford. I haven't ridden a horse since I was 10, but you can do it there, so I look forward to it. Cory and my Dad will probably play guitar and bond around a bonfire, and I'll bring my laptop and write, and Dad and I will bond over the weirdness of my being married and we'll drink beer and talk about horror movies, and Lorraine will probably get angry and storm off because those are two things she hates, and I'll try to find it cute because what else can I do.
Anyway, hope to be more talkative soon. Anzel's project is kicking my ass, but it's awesome, and you guys will see the end result very very soon.
Prepare an ice pack for me, please. My head hurts.
x.o.
hd
anzel -- another book cover. This is what I'd classify as a "project", fersure. When he approached me for it I was like "oh, totes!" and then after about 2 weeks I was like "ohgodwhathaveIagreedto". But it's good practice, and I needed it... it's just, y'know, it can be a little soul-crushing at times.For those of you still waiting on me, once this is done you'll see your projects wrapped up snippy-snap (but at the highest quality I can offer, I assure you). Believe me, I'm not loving being totally broke this month either, but this is the price you pay for working on a Big Project. It's kind of like an internship that way.
I love working with Anzel. He's a great writer and has the best attitude -- he's always positive, never afraid to offer his suggestions or ask for changes but it always feels like a wonderful dynamic. Freelancers often struggle with clients who want the impossible or ask for too much for too little, and he has never fallen to that stereotype. I love working with him. I love all of my "normal" commission clients, too, but I do apologize to those of you who are still waiting a little longer than my regular waiting list time. This is pretty unusual for me, I admit, but I've had a bit of a rough time here at the old homestead. It's getting better, though, I promise.
Health seems stable. I have a few things I'm a little worried about... trying to bring myself to just shut up and go see a doctor. Nothing I want to disclose just yet, for fear of either a) tugging heartstrings that don't yet need to be tugged or b) worrying anyone into a tizzy over nothing but hopefully I'm okay. I did have blood taken for my first official visit with a new doctor and my husband says if they'd seen anything unusual in the blood they'd have called me, though I'm a bit dubious of such a rosy claim. Doesn't mean I won't go ahead and see a doctor if I worry a little too much, but you guys know I'm kind of a hypochondriac.
I've been very, very quiet these past few months, and I'm really sorry. ;_; My way of dealing with stress is to retreat into video games and to just avoid talking about whatever's bothering me. Some people bottle it up, and I seem to do the opposite -- I just pretend everything's peachy. I guess that's a form of bottling, and I know it's not healthy, but I try to be thankful for the little things and I tend to feel like, if I were going to die in a year I'd just want to not know until the last day. I'm not strong enough to deal with that kind of knowledge. I guess that's the kind of thinking that could get you killed over a simply-cured disease, but, well, maybe that's my fatal flaw.
Switching psychiatrists. The Indian guy was just too irritating. Curt, rude, took phone calls during my meetings -- and that wasn't so bad, but when I had to cancel last week I tried to warn him all week long and couldn't get him on the phone. I then tried to call him the entire 30 minutes I SHOULD have been in session with him, and either he never picked up the phone or the line was busy. I realized then that he didn't deserve my business, and I found another psychiatrist. So I'm seeing her on the 26th. I've managed to make my meds stretch out until then -- not taking them half the time, and it's been fine, really. I can get by on 1/3'd my dose or not at all. No big deal. I'll honestly just be glad to have another doctor who actually cares about me.
Our insurance hasn't paid for the ADD meds, because a) they can be abused and b) some people don't think it's a real condition deserving of reimbursement. I guess I understand that, but it's been rough on the wallet. It doesn't help that the bottle actually reads "methamphetamine salts". I actually laughed when I saw it. It's weird that it helps me so much day-to-day and yet it's pretty much a doctor-ordered version of drugs that I've seen put friends into the gutter. Life is funny that way. I'm not making calls and throwing a bitch fit, but to get a little assistance would be nice, since we're paying for insurance and, y'know, this is something that is helping me survive day to day. I can honestly say after 3 months that I'm a million times better now than I was before. Side-effects... well... I guess those are inevitable. But I'm able to focus now. I can handle a pile of bills without dissolving into a sobbing mess. That's something, I guess.
Going to spend the weekend after Thanksgiving with my Dad and his wife. I call her "his wife" because they've been married since I was sixteen, but she's always seemed to walk this line between seemingly hating my guts and wanting the best for me. She's an odd bird. A journalist from South Africa. She's really fascinating, if also incredibly infuriating. She's embarrassed and enraged me on more than one occasion, is judgmental to a fault, but when I've been in danger or financial crisis she's always expressed concern. I may say she annoys me, but I think it's cute that she's so weird and obnoxious at times. She's quirky, I guess. As my dad likes to say, "she has no filter between her brain and her mouth." I think she just has always been a little envious of the relationship my father and I have because she and her own father didn't really get along all the time... I try to be compassionate about that, because I can see the loneliness in her. I try to love her, because everyone is deserving of love. She doesn't mean to be brash and spazzy. I try to pretend her temper tantrums are cute and not ridiculous. X3 She makes my father happy, and I've seen the way he laughs and rolls his eyes when she acts like a brat. If he's happy, I'm happy. If he can let it roll off him like water off a duck's back, I can too. He's the happiest I've seen him my entire life, even if she seems totally insufferable at times.
Sometimes, salt and pepper just work. I don't try to understand it.
For serious though, when the Golden Turtle (the champagne-colored Ford Escort wagon my Dad got me at age 23) died last year in a horrible auto accident and they got us the shiny new red Jeep, and we went to pick it up from them and Cory's entire family came with, she flipped out and threw a hissy fit at the table where we were eating and stormed out -- no one had any idea why. turns out it's because Cory and I had brought up the subject of beer, St. Arnold's to be precise, and she was angry because she and Dad had been fighting over his having had ONE beer the night previous because he'd lost a bunch of weight after giving it up. Talk about awkward. At the time it was horribly weird for everyone, but in hindsight, it's textbook Lorraine. I've learned to, like my Dad, laugh, roll my eyes, and move on. She's quirky and can seem impossible, but you just have to shrug it off and go with it. She has a history of trying to ruin special occasions (one Thanksgiving she sarcastically thanked my friend Preston for showing up uninvited, humiliating me). But the reality is, I find it amusing, and at the end of the day, that's just Lorraine. I mean, there should be a little cutaway with a cartoon logo of her face going "That's Lorraine!" with some trumpet fanfare or something. It's not horrible, it's just her. I'm no peach on my worst days either, just... not quite so random and volatile, I should hope.
I digress.
Anyway, yes. Weekend after thanksgiving we're going to Beaver's Bend in Broken Bow, Oklahoma. My folks and I went there every summer when I was a kid. We were always broke but it was something we could afford. I haven't ridden a horse since I was 10, but you can do it there, so I look forward to it. Cory and my Dad will probably play guitar and bond around a bonfire, and I'll bring my laptop and write, and Dad and I will bond over the weirdness of my being married and we'll drink beer and talk about horror movies, and Lorraine will probably get angry and storm off because those are two things she hates, and I'll try to find it cute because what else can I do.
Anyway, hope to be more talkative soon. Anzel's project is kicking my ass, but it's awesome, and you guys will see the end result very very soon.
Prepare an ice pack for me, please. My head hurts.
x.o.
hd
not
reading
that
insurmountable
wall
of
text
too bad!
Oh and I'm jelly of you.. I love horses and haven't been on one in years so have fun for me too.
My last memory of Beaver's Bend is having done this trail and constantly trying to drive my horse off the trail -- and he wasn't having any of it. ROFL. I remember managing to get him to go around one singular tree adjacent to the trail and feeling like I'd scaled a mountain for having done so. I feel guilty about it now. Poor horse. He was probably thinking "what is wrong with this kid!!"
OMG..LOL! That's hysterical.
And yeah, I promise not to torture any other horses. If I'd only known what kind of fresh hell I was imposing on them. But what can I say, girls will be girls. I wanted to gallop off into the sunset. I didn't know that Scout (my horse) was probably anxious to get me the hell off his back!
(I haven't had a chance to reread the journal, so this isn't a response to that.)
A-Sounds like you have a fantastic attitude, always trying to find the best in any situation.
B-Your last psych sounds like a douchebag. Psychiarists are there for you, period. You are their world and if they don't treat you as such... well, they cannot do their job very well.
C-Please, please, please don't take this the wrong way... but I think you ought to write a sitcom based on what you wrote here.
A) It's funny; I am pretty negative so much of the time! If I'm in public I complain a lot... I gripe, I whine, I bitch constantly. Being a Negative Nelly is my public, neutral state. Yet, when it comes down to it, when I introspect, my overview is wholly positive. I don't understand why there's such dissonance between my immediate outlook/behavior and my overall view of how things are and my approach to life in general. I'm panicky, I break down easily in the face of stress (just ask me to get on the freeway or do chores with a hangover), yet I tend to be pretty satisfied with my life and always see the best in people if you give me the time. I don't believe in zodiac signs anymore, but I still can say I am a textbook Gemini. I don't get it! :D
B) It's sad but true. The reality is, psychiatrists really are just there to get you in and out of their offices as quickly as possible; they analyze and size you up quickly, prescribe meds, and send you on your way. I could handle that, but from what I've read about other psychs in the area, Dr. Kulkarni was sorely lacking and I at least deserve a bit of concern in my brief 20 minute visit, so I'm looking forward to ditching him. I do have a therapist/counselor, as well -- they are much warmer and are more the "sits with a notepad and listens intently" types, and I couldn't live without mine. But yeah, I wanted a psych who didn't treat me like he had no interest whatsoever.
C) No offense taken. *LOL* I wish my life was that interesting, but I swear to God it's very boring from day to day. I'm rarely funny and I spend most of my day in my office. My only humor is accidental -- my friends constantly point out that I accidentally pun. Like, all the time. I wish I could say it was on purpose, but I think my brain has a particular quirk where, when I look for words and phrases, it inadvertently pulls the choice that has a double meaning. The sad part is, I don't catch it until the entire room full of people is groaning. Then I have to stop and analyze whatever I just said. I've tried to play it off like it was on purpose, but people know me so well by now that they know I don't mean to do it, so I never get to take credit.
A sitcom about my life would be pretty dull. Then again, if Two and a Half Men can stay on the air as long as it has...
B-That's unfortunate. I understand that there are terrible psychiatrists out there, just like there are in every other medical profession, but jezzum. I think that there are a goodly number of folks in the medical community who need to be reminded that if they're doing their job for anything other than their patients' well-being, they need to find a different job. Cops and firefighters don't do it for the pay, that's for damned sure. Doctors and nurses shouldn't either.
C-Our lives are always more humorous and interesting than we give credit for. :p
And in fairness, most sitcoms are the humorous situations from vast periods of time compressed into a half hour (including ads). If they make it long enough, then the wierdness of the characters will come out and suggest situations all on their own.
*hugs*
I doubt it's so simple as an auto-rejection; rather, I imagine it's a situation where they reject at first but are at least required to hear an appeal on the matter. :) It's worth a shot, in any case. Like I said, I'll pay anyway, but it'd be nice if I didn't have to pay for all of it. Kinda spendy.