And not a single fuck was given that day.

; w ;

Well, that's a new one!

http://i589.photobucket.com/albums/...../minidice1.jpg
I'm going to make earrings out of them.

Why?

Because what the fuck else am I going to do with 600 mini dice?

When I am done with them, I'll be selling them for $5 each- $8 a pair.
I have ordered the other things I need for them, so it'll probably be at least another month.

Just telling you all what I'm up to...


Also, the glove/sock plushes I have been making, I have considered selling them! But, I can't really do REQUESTS for them, since I am limited to my glove/sock colors.
So idunno. Some random projects going along here. Wee...

I have decided to make an account for  quiggles

Because. Idunno. Butts.

Why I never did a comic before.

It's tedious as fuck <__>





At least, doing it digitally. My biggest problem has always been drawing the frames for each scene. Either I have some sort of tumor in my head that does not allow my hand to operate correctly with digital framework, or I just give up too easily.

It's probably the giving up part, since I am TERRIBLY impatient when it comes to making anything.
This is why it doesn't take me long at all to go from sloppy sketches to clean work, to finished color for any full piece I do- but it also explains why a lot of my drawings simply stay as uncolored, sketched ideas. Because I get the idea out of my system, then move on. Or I lose the drive/interest in the piece.

I will admit, it's something I really need to work on. But I have been saying that to myself since the dawn of time. I just don't know if I can settle down, and anchor myself to a project long enough to have it be finished.

This is why I don't do a lot of projects on Second Life. Or, rather, FINISH them. I have a lot of ideas that just stay as a sculpted head, or a quick doodle in my pocket sketchpad or scrap piece of paper. I'm DOING things, but everything just ends up... unfinished. My mind is on the go constantly, it seems.

Then there are times that my mind just doesn't want to go. I draw a blank- I sit in front of the PC all day.. doing what? Nothing of importance, really. Before I know it, the sun is down, the day is done, and I have work in the morning. My creative spark is always past midnight. As soon as the early hours of the AM start, that's when my mind starts to get ideas. My fingers itch for a pencil or a stylus. That's when I get into drawing, or sculpting, or anything creative. My eyes linger to the clock at the bottom corner of my computer screen. Where did 1AM go? Hell, what the fuck happened to 3AM? Though, when I go to sleep early for work, I never really reach that "creative" hour. So I'm stuck at work, itching for a pencil... when I need to do other things.

For me, getting the urge to draw is like getting a boner at the worse time. I get a boner at work- well, I can't very well jerk off in the bathroom. I get a boner at 2AM. I could just try and make it quick, but usually I indulge into my guilty pleasure and end up wasting half the night. Makes it easy to relate to, I suppose?

Idunno. I need to at least force myself to do SOMETHING. But if I treat this like homework, and not like fun, I'll never do it. SO LET'S JUST HAVE FUN WITH IT OKAY CC?

UNGH UNGH UNGH.

I just can't sleep past noon anymore. It's impossible.

Goddamn that week of working all mornings. You have cured my 'insomnia.'




But I think it'll eventually laps back. I mean, I'll have a day off without work the next day eventually.




Man, I'm bitching like this is a problem. It shouldn't be. I mean, I'm awake, and able to do more stuff before I do have to work. Or something.



Whatever. I have Doritos.

Yes, I have a facebook. I have noticed that some folks on here have tried to add me.

No, you will not be added. Facebook is strictly family and work related for me. Why? Because that's who I would ever contact on there. Those are the only people I would want on there. I have met some old friends on there, as well, but this is all out side of this.. fuzzy community going on here.

I broke down to get a Facebook when my cousin kept nagging me about it. I found out that majority of my family is on it. It's nice to keep in touch with them, when they're addicted to the retarded website.

So, please don't be all offended or something when I so happen to just not add you on that website. This isn't because it happened, it's because I have a feeling it might happen. Or something.

If you want random blurbs from me, use Twitter. I'll sometime text it from work when I'm bored. Or stalk people. Or something? I don't know, but I'm tired, and I know I'm rambling.

I love them.

Would you buy it?


I have oodles of ideas that I am just way too damn lazy to draw out. I have wanted to make a comic- or a series of them, since early high school.

I just... really can't get myself to be motivated enough to make one.

But, I have the feeling if I just sit down, and take my time making one, finish it... the next won't be so bad.



Buuutttt it's the fact of actually STARTING it. So, uh. Yeah.


I'll think about this, depending on the feedback.

Stories will vary. Most, if not all, would probably be inter-species. Durr durr durr.

A bunch of people offer me to make items for me.

I don't mind it, really, but I sort of want to make the stuff myself. Isn't that part of the experience of a game? To hunt for items? Maybe after a few tries of not able to get the stuff I need, sure. But right off the bat? That just sucks the fun out of it.

I like a challenge, and I like to play a game for as long as I have interest in it. My interest stays longer depending on what items I'd like.


Idunno... everyone likes to be too helpful, it seems...

They like my tits.

I'm not sure what to think of that.

erryone rage

Don't fucking tell me to watch a show that I told you I think is terribly animated.
I don't fucking care about your goddamn "BUT THE STORY IS GOOD!"

Visuals come first. Tweening, and making every fucking body part warp and distort in every goddamn fucking frame is fucking obnoxious- like a group of middle school students who were taught how to animate in flash for a week were hired to animate it.

I don't fucking care who produced/created the show. Powerpuff Girls and the such was NEW and EXCITING. It's not very NEW and EXCITING when EVERYONE FUCKING DOES IT NOW. NOW IS IT?

The sheer amount of fandom for this puts me off more than anything. Every fucking day, there's a bunch of this shit in my inbox. At least ONCE someone sends me a "funny" picture of a pony doing an outdated meme. It wasn't funny when it was getting old. How is it even remotely funny now?

Am I mad? Well, duh. It's everywhere, and fucking annoying as hell.

I suppose this journal is to let off some steam. Or all of it.



In other news, Spiral Knights is a wonderfully cute game, and I enjoy playing it.

ffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff

This is the guy who comes in every Sunday to bowl for three hours from 9am to noon.

Other than he has TERRIBLE BO, he's a goddamn hoot to watch.

Because I'm a faggot.

This is awesome.

Unlimited TEXTING. I am a little in the dark ages when it comes to that. But, I finally upgraded my cheap Legendary Piece Of Shit phone to a different plan.

So I have been poking people with text messages.


And I am terribly slow and retarded with a normal phone for making words.



What is this I don't even.

http://www.wired.com/wiredscience/2.....h-with-a-lake/

I was following along with it, until numbers and letters happened.


Then my brain simply stopped, and wordless babble flew out of my mouth.

I could never get math. Well, I could, but it went into a vicious cycle.

Algebra I did it in the worst, but Geometry I could always grasp a little better- until the Algebra part was thrown into it.

Basically, the cycle would happen with ANY teacher, ANY sort of teaching style. I just couldn't win.

Let me explain it to you.

We start the chapter. The teacher explains various equations, how they work, and I take notes. Lots of notes. I do this with all my other classes. Notes. Notes and doodles, but mostly notes. I retain information like a sponge. I suck it in, I pass the first chapter's section's test, and we move on to the next section.
By the end of the chapter, I have learned the last thing we were taught.
Anything before that was pushed out- like my brain has no room for math in it's life.
The test, I fail, since majority of the time 2/3 of the test is the previous shit we learned from the earlier chapter.

Why would math do this to me? I even tried STUDYING. Of which, I loathed so much. I never had to study for my other classes, so why did I have to for math?

A learning disability could be it, but I would hate to blame my brain's functions on something so stupid.

A few weeks ago, my terrible math skills came to the light at work.
I was covering on a Saturday- not a normal shift for me- and the computer did a little malfunction for one of our Junior League members. I went over to fix it, and asked the kid what he had.

There were four pins left over, and it didn't count his third ball, or some horse shit. I looked at the pins, and I looked at the kid, making it out like I was going to quiz HIM on math. Didn't work out too well, since my coworker was like "Myrandah, you can't figure that out yourself?"
My mind is completely blank. My brain starts flipping out, pulling up various answers- would this work? No.. what of this? No no- finally my coworker was like "IT'S 2. TWOO!"

I shrugged it off as me just not being awake enough for it. The parents had a good laugh, and they moved on.


Embarrassing? A bit. When more than two numbers are involved in anything, it just becomes a terrible idea.

So, I arrived at the court house today, Opie coming with me to give me company.

I waited for one other person, before I went in, and sat down.

First, they said they would read the paperwork they had, the reports, and then I would explain, and prove, why I was not 50% or less at fault.


When the man who represented my insurance company started reading both of the reports, he just couldn't make any sense of them. My police report, and the report the other guy had, were poorly written, and did not explain what happened very clearly. I knew mine was like that, but when I confronted the police officer, he did not cooperate. But the other guy's report was a mess, and they told me "Well a win is a win, even if it's by technicality."

So, I won! They may have felt that the procedure of this accident was not done correctly. So they will file this to my insurance company, and when I get a letter in the mail, I will contact the agency.

I was in there for a full five minutes- waiting, a little anxious, but keeping myself level. And all that was for "Oh hey, both of these reports are shit, you win." XD

Not to get my hopes up, because who knows what could happen, but hopefully this will be sorted out the way it was suppose to be!


EDIT- This was just an appeal against my insurance company, who sided with State Farm because they friggin' suck.

Tomorrow, I will be going to the court to do my appeal.

So far no luck on nabbing the guy to get my money, but I'm working on it. I consider calling one of those people who does the job for you, since I can't really go down there myself and do this shit.

Hopefully things will go well. I am a bit anxious, but as long as I keep calm, and be brief and to the point, things should be alright. I just wish it didn't have to come to this. I always look back and wonder why I didn't just be a super bitch to the guy. I was shocked- I was over 400 miles away from home- and the car was a gift from my grandmother who wasn't doing very well at the time.

I have a new car now... but is it normal to feel empathy for a vehicle? I wonder where it is now, who might be selling it or driving it... I find myself silly, to treat a car as if I lost a friend.
I had many adventures with that Focus, for the short time I had it.

But, I suppose a few people may just have that sort of thing, being the first car they get, and keep it in a special place in their heart. Or memories. Or something.


Anyway, wish me luck. I'll be going there at 10AM- so I'm taking a day off form work... Sadly. A 7 hour shift- that's about 70 bucks for me @_@ Better be fuckin' worth it.

So I was at the laundromat today. Even though it takes about 2 hours to get stuff done, I enjoy the atmosphere.

People watching is what I like to do the most.

Today there was a woman who was using at least 6 washers. She was with her, presumed, mother-in-law and her daughter whom must have been between 4-5.
The girl was curious, but not very annoying.
I'm not sure if the woman just had a crap load of needless clothing, more than one kid, or what.
She then used 6 of the huge dryers as well, and most of it was just clothing. I think it was all their "winter" and "summer" clothing together, since she was talking to the mother-in-law about how she would separate everything when she got home. I couldn't believe the amount of clothing...

And price wise, she must have spent at least 30 dollars or more? Let's see... 4.50 for each washer, and about 1.75 for 35 minutes of drying... times this by six, and it's $37.50. Goddamn.
She could save that money and get herself one of those tiny apartment washers.

I think I spent what... 8 bucks? I don't have much clothing, I don't really need much clothing.
I had the same pair of pants since high school until last year, since they wore out in the ass and can't really patch it there with how it was worn.

Though, the only reason why I go to the laundromat is because my washer shit the bed, and I couldn't be arsed to go home with wet clothing just to dry it.

The first time I went to the laundromat, it was simply another adventure for me. I had never been in one. Watching the washers and the dryers turned out to be a little bit of entertainment. One time I decided to toss a small plush toy in with my wash, and would wait for it to show up as it got tossed around with my clothing. Easily entertained? I think so.
Today, though, I brought a book with me. The time flew by at about the same pace, I think. Usually I'll listen to music, wile taking a trip in my head, eyes focused on the sudsy white foam consuming the cloth being tossed around.

I try to be polite to strangers. I have noticed that strangers seem to ask me things, a lot. Mostly opinions, or where I would think something would be.
But sometimes I'll be in Wal*Mart (hate it, but no place else to go) and I can't tell you how many times people have asked if I worked there. Where's my name tag? I'm pushing a cart. Is it because I look like I know what I'm doing? Maybe. Though, I would never want to apply to a place like that. The first interview I had was at Target. I was nervous, of course. When I went, they told me to wait in the staff room. There was a guy there, who was very positive- optimistic even- about me getting my interview. Said things would be alright. I think he was an omen- of not getting the job.

When I was called in, I went into the manager's office. She wore red, had short black hair, and was very pregnant. Seeing her bulbous round beach ball gut, the back of my head shouted out "Nope! You're not getting this job- this lady is in her 9th semester of bitchy pre-motherhood."
I didn't like the questions she asked me, either. They were completely off the wall. Things I didn't expect an interview would have- but it was probably company policy. Honestly, I don't even remember what she asked me. Nothing stuck- and it could be because I just wanted to get the hell out of that office.

I don't like pregnant people. I don't like babies- and people who already have babies and are pregnant and look like high school drop outs simply piss me the fuck off. The likely hood of them living on welfare is pretty high, and judging by the thick layer of make up on mom's face, she's a complete idiot, raising kids that would also be complete idiots.

Thankfully I have yet to have an experience of a mother with children like that at the laundromat, but I'm sure it would be an interesting experience.