I'm not a religious person. I talk to God, but even I'm not always sure he listens, and I have ZERO faith in any church or organized religion. I DO believe, though, that if enough people talk to Him, in whatever way each person believes is right, He might listen.

My little sister is going into surgery in a half-hour, a C-section to try and save her baby; she's been really sick for most of the pregnancy, and even though the baby is 2 months premature and only a couple of pounds, the doctors still are sure they can save her. If you have any belief systems or faith or anything, please say something for my sister and her husband and their baby.

I'll let you know how it goes, I won't know for another 8 hours or so, but just...give her a moment of your thoughts. Maybe it'll help.

UPDATE: My sister is fine and in recovery; the baby is 1 pound, 14 ounces, currently on life support and getting a blood transfusion for anemia, but so far, so good. First night is the big one.

UPDATE 2: OK, last I heard, they both seem to be doing okay. My sister is under observation because of her asthma, and the baby is still doing as well as can be expected.

I'm curious about people's opinions on something: there are a couple of artists whose work I absolute ADORE, but I read their interactions with others and their opinions on various subjects and it makes me seethe...I mean, some are just absolute ASSHOLES.

So, the question I ask is: should your opinion of the artist affect your opinion of their work, or should you just ignore the person making the work in favor of the work itself?

OK, I just...wanna apologize for the self-pitying and guilt-tripping tone of my last journal. In my defense, things seem way more desolate at 3AM...but my problems aren't any of yours and I had no reason to make it sound like I was totally abandoned in the woods or anything. Yeah, things are rough, and most of it was legit, but particularly that last line was way out of line for me, and I'm sorry to all of you for unloading a faceload of pointless emo on everybody.

I haven't posted any real journals since December, so I figure I may as well, if only to keep anyone who still gives a flaming rat's ass about this dead end butthole of the Internet I inhabit updated.

So, far, this year has been nothing but stress, to the point of me not really bothering to get out of bed on my days off anymore. I find myself wondering if maybe the meds were doing more good than I gave them credit for BY numbing me from the neck up, but considering the stupid shit I'm currently having to deal with that I did while on them, about the only real, tangible benefit I can truly attest to them is the pain-killing side effects they had; sometimes, on the coldest days, I woke up too sore to move now, so I suppose I need to re-learn those pain-management techniques I taught myself back when I was first injured.

Worse, it's like even the tiny spark of creativity I had has gone out now. I feel...cold inside. I have to reignite it. There is no other way of looking at it. It's all I ever had going for me, and I can't let it die without clawing and biting and scratching and fucking FIGHTING until I breathe my last. Otherwise, I may as well die too.

The only thing that keeps me from succumbing to total meltdown is the knowledge of others I care about are going through even worse ordeals, and if they can keep their heads through that, then a little constant, unending grinding on my soul is nothing. I wish I could do more to help them, but I'm in my self-imposed exile here so I can be there for my son, and God knows if there was actually anything I could even do for them anyway.

And my son...it's wrong to live solely for another's benefit, but some days he is the only reason I have to even open my eyes, and half the time I can't even stay awake while he's here. It's such a weird dichotomy...I loathe and despise myself with such passion that the sight of my own reflection fills me with rage and disgust, but I'm still, somehow, convinced deep in the withered, shriveled stone of a heart I have in the sucking cavity of my chest that being here somehow is a benefit to him. I don't get it. I have to pull free of whatever is pulling me under if only so I can show him that he isn't the son of a total failure of a wretch, even if he IS.

Nobody's going to read this, I know. Even those I once called "brothers" don't come here anymore.

Just an FYI, I posted a few pics of some of my custom TFs at my dA gallery http://heckfire.deviantart.com/ Nothing major, not even major custom jobs really, but since they aren't allowed here anymore I just thought I'd let you guys know.

(OK, I swore to myself I wouldn't do my usual cross-posting bullshit between my journals and TKT, but this is pretty much as close to a wrap up of the year as I can get. We'll just chalk it up as my first New Year's resolution...)

It's...hard to explain. As of today, I have been off of any medication for one year, after being on one form of them or another for a decade. The best description I can make for my frame of mind is "disgruntled optimism," maybe "pessimistic hope": my line of thinking wants to return to the doom and gloom and suicidal intensity of the past 5 years on Cymbalta, but that line of thinking lacks the...appeal it once held. In its place, I see train wreck upon train wreck stretching both back behind me and sitting in anticipatory malignance in front of me, both stretching as far as the mind's eye can see. It's, to stretch the imagery to breaking point, like being asleep at the switch and plowing through one awful situation after another, but since you were so convinced that maybe the next one will finally stop the runaway train your life is you didn't mind since the NEXT one would finally end it all...only to finally snap out of it and see exactly what the Hell is going on and HOLY SHIT, DUCK!

I almost preferred letting the momentum carry me.

Becoming aware of how much time has been wasted, how much should have BEEN done and how little there is that can be salvaged of this horrible, horrible life is...not fun. By the same token, I still find myself in awe...all the things that SHOULD have gone wrong, that COULD have been so much, much worse, and yet, I'm still so much better off than many who have been in my exact circumstances turn out to be. It's not a charmed life, but there does seem to be some kind of...I hesitate to open this kinda line of thinking, but I'm kind of at a loss to explain it elsewise...guidance. Whether external divinity or internal fortitude, or some alchemical combination of both, I see what I SHOULD have become for all the crap I've done and had done to me throughout my life and see it far away, nothing more than a boogeyman making faces. Unfortunately, I also see what I could be had I lived up to my potential and gotten the kind of breaks that others less...eh, I hesitate to use the term "deserving," but then I see "Jersey Shore"...and it's just as far away and unreachable.

So, yes...I suppose, in retrospect, I had a tolerable year. Sobering, harrowing, disheartening...but hopeful.

In lieu of any actual holiday cheer, I give you my favorite iteration of the lyrics to one of my favorite holiday songs. It's not the official, canon released lyrics, rather the version sung by Rowlf the Dog and John Denver on my favorite Christmas album:

Have yourself a merry little Christmas, let your heart be light,
From now on, our troubles will be out of sight.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas, make the Yuletide gay,
From now on our troubles will be miles away.

Here we are, as in olden days, happy golden days of yore...
Faithful friends who are dear to us gather near to us once more...

Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow...
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough,
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

OK, Bronies? Let me sit you down a second and explain something to you, something that as a 25-year plus fan of both My Little Pony AND the furry fandom I feel I have a duty to share with you all:

YOU ARE FURRIES. LEARN SOME COPING MECHANISMS, PEOPLE.

Now, let me clarify something: this does NOT mean you wanna fuck cartoon horses. Some of you do; if so, fine, welcome to the Internet.

Thing is, there's been a BBBBBBIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGGGGGG misinterpretation between you and how things actually are. See, it's called the furry FANDOM for a reason; the porn and "yiffymurrpurr" stuff is simply ONE OF THE SUBCULTURES. The furry fandom is made up of folks who ARE FANS OF ANTHROPOMORPHIC ANIMAL CHARACTERS. For those who don't know, "anthropomorphic" means' having human characteristics" like, say, SPEECH, COMPLEX SOCIETIES, APPLE FARMS, PRINCESSES...things like, I dunno, FRIENDSHIP and MAGIC perhaps? By near default, most of these types of characters happen to be cartoons...not all, but the very concept restricts itself to fictional matter.

So, does being a Brony make you a furry? BY THE FUCKING DEFINITION OF BOTH WORDS, THE ANSWER IS "YES." Does this mean you're a pervert who faps to horses? Only if you want to be...guess what? IT'S NOT A FUCKING REQUIREMENT.

...sorry to the rest of you. I am just beyond sick of hearing these so-called fans bashing the group THEY ARE A FUCKING PART OF.

Sorry, did it again. Promise, last time.

So, the second mass Beta weekend JUST ended an hour and 15 minutes ago, but since the NDA is still lifted I can feel free to talk about it. I initially started a cyborg Smuggler on a PVP server with the intention of hanging with my friend, but since I got called into work unexpectedly early this weekend, it kinda put the kibosh on team-ups since I'd only be playing while he was asleep and vice-versa.

So you can imagine my happy surprise when I logged in Friday night and found the PVE server I'd played on the first weekend back WITH my old characters on it! Taking up my dead-sexy Chiss bounty hunter, "Cool Blue" Sha'de, again, I was actually able to get her up to 15 (dinged just before the beta ended); I was hoping to have my ship before the weekend ended, but such wasn't to be. I chose the Mercenary class so I could dual-wield, but if I get to play it again I'll probably go with the other profession for the better armor instead.

The spawns weren't half as brutal this time, but it might be because I was expecting them and actually had armor and my companion. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention the horrible, horrible lag/frame rate problems which made moving Sha'de feel like driving a forklift with a busted steering column (most common occurrence: standing there hitting the turn arrow with no effect, then all of a sudden spinning 180 or sprinting into mobs I'd been trying to edge past), but since the purpose of this weekend was to stress-test the servers and gauge the effects on the game I suppose it couldn't be helped. Besides, since you had to actively target your opponents, I never had the problem of aggroing mobs with an auto-targetted shot I couldn't control.

Since I got to the point of actually acquiring my first companion (Mako, a cute cyborg computer geek), I can honestly say that the companion system is a gift from GOD (or The Force, as it were). While she wasn't QUITE as capable as a living player, her obsession with healing me in battle was a boon that saved my ass more than I care to admit, plus she was a good enough shot that she tended to rack up almost as many kills as me. I wasn't able to get her to handle the looting like I'd planned, I'm not even sure it's even capable, but I will say that her Crew Skill "Slicing" was worth getting, if only because the typical result was boxes of credits. Since I never got my ship, I wasn't able to make any use of the materials we Scavenged or use the Armstech to build better weapons, though. Also, it's a minor note, but while she had an almost Navi-like tendency towards annoying prattle at first, but the occasional comments she'd make about the settings were a nice touch. There was also a weird glitch that the programmers apparently know about where she'd start randomly blipping around the immediate area, occasionally getting in my way while I was looting, but, again, this was apparently something keyed to the purposely jammed servers.

While most of my problems this time were either nitpicks (do we really need SO MANY different types of useless vendor trash?) or due to the jammed server issues, I will say I was a little disappointed that in order to leave Hutta (and to return to it, as well apparently), you had NO CHOICE but to do a pick-up group for a "flashpoint." For someone who hates pick-up groups like I do, especially ones that last for a few hours that you HAVE to see through to the end, this was...actually more a nuisance than a deal-breaker for me. The Padawan we faced at the end of it took almost an hour to beat by herself alone ("Padawan," my sexy blue ass...the way she was flipping around and teke-smashing us, she would've given Darth Friggin' Vader a hard time), and all we got was a rare blaster rifle which, as a group of three bounty hunters (our Sith got DC-ed early in the mission), none of us could use it anyway (I won the roll for it, thankfully; due to my lag issues, I never got any of the other loot drops).

The thing that made the flashpoint tolerable was part of what made the entire came memorable: the cutscenes. It seems like a such a minor thing from the player side, but it really made this game unique and immersive, and the voice acting was great. I mean, a Twi'lek with a Minnesotan accent? LMAO! In fact, that's probably the word I'd use to describe the entire game, "immersive."

I am SO sold on this game...er...if I didn't have a few hundred dollars worth of unexpected bills at least.

Apparently BioWare lifted the NDA on last weekend's SWTOR test run, so I can actually talk about it...for what little I can actually say. It took me three days to download the game, so I only got to play for a few hours, so my characters only got to level 5-6, not even out of the starter area. Still, surprisingly fun game (well, surprisingly to a n00b like me, anyway). I played a Jedi knight (natch), an Imperial agent (way too much fun there, even if I did die a lot), and a bounty hunter (BOOM, baby!), the last two mainly because then I could play as a Chiss, which was a toss up: Chiss are way sexy (my agent looked like a Satanic mix of Smurfette and Lucy Liu), but their racial power sucks bantha balls.

The trademark BW conversation trees were effectively immersive, especially once I realized that the reason why the actual things said by your character were differently worded than the choices in the tree were because they would sometimes change depending on the tone you'd set for the conversation in the previous choice. For example, while addressing the Hutt who rules the Imperial starting area, if your start out snarky then even when you make respectful choices, your character will still make snippy comments as opposed to if you start the conversation respectfully.

At least in the first levels, the Jedi path was disappointingly identical to your basic fantasy game: fight hostile natives over grassy terrain, explore villages, spelunking. Plus, since you were effectively bringing a sword (or, more accurately, a Nerf bat) to a gunfight, half the time you'd lose most of your health before you even got within attacking distance. Once you were there, however...muahahahaha. According to some of the reports I've heard, the Jedi path gets WAY more fun once you hit 10 and go on your Trials, though.

Bounty hunters were pretty damn basic, but in a REALLY fun way. Hell, the blaster isn't even really your primary weapon; your first real attack is a fucking WRIST-LAUNCHED MINI-MISSILE. HEEEEEE. The gist of the hunter storyline is that there is a big competition called "The Great Hunt" (how original, BioWare...), Mandalorians versus freelancers, that takes place on Hutta, and one of the losers from the last Hunt is trying to preemptively remove his competition. Meanwhile, you have to win the sponsorship of the aforementioned Hutt so you can even enter it in the first place, which you do mainly by taking down his enemies for fucking pocket change (seriously, I took down a loser named "Huttsbane" for frickin' 57 creds, the cheap bastard).

Imperial agent was also loads of fun, but in a different way. In their storyline, you're the James (or Jane) Bond of the Empire, infiltrating said Hutt's gang as the pirate "Red Blade" in order to secure his territory for Imperial usage. While you can't do or take as much damage as the bounty hunter, you can actually use cover, which is both a blessing and curse since the "duck and cover" mechanic still seemed a little spotty: you'd dive for cover from one enemy, only to have another spawn right on top of you LITERALLY. Still, there were interesting gaming moments, like when my Smurfy Liu got to actually seduce some guy who was threatening to blow her cover. Trading one blow for another, I suppose...

I mentioned the mob spawns, and I have to mention: they are MERCILESS. They respawn SECONDS after you defeat them, sometimes while you're still looting their corpse. They spawn ALL OVER THE PLACE, so there is NEVER effective cover. And they typically spawn in groups of three or four, so they WILL mow your ass down. This is the main reason I chose the bounty hunter after the agent, I needed the fucking armor since several of the side quests are identical no matter which class you take. Fortunately, most go down in two or three hits, so it isn't a game breaker as much as a minor inconvenience.

My only other complaints are having to go through the ENTIRE scenes over and over again (an option to skip to the conversation choices might be nice) and the fact that there isn't that much variety in PC races. I mean, your choices, depending on allegiance and profession are: human, green human, human with tentacles, human with spiky bits, blue human, human with dangly face bits, human with no eyes, and human with metal chunks in your face. At least Galaxies let you play Rodians...but these are minor quibbles. It's definitely a fun game, and I plan on getting it if I can.

EDIT: as if I wasn't already sold on the bounty hunter class in SWTOR, apparently at some point you get a companion who's a Jawa WITH A BAZOOKA.

http://swtor.wikia.com/wiki/Blizz

Utinni this, bitches. LMAO

http://depressioncomix.tumblr.com/

You know someone who's depressed? Can't figure out why people who claim to be lonely never call anybody? Don't understand why someone with "no problems" wants to commit suicide?

Here. Cliff Notes for your ass. Get a fucking clue already.

EDIT: OK, one caveat...I don't cut. I can see where the impulse comes from, but I have enough physical pain to cope with on a day to day basis as-is without ADDING to it. It was the one comic that I couldn't relate to personally.

Remember my Muse of Fanart, Bandwagon the Anthro MLP (http://www.furaffinity.net/view/52564/)? I've been wondering why, in this age of Brony Love, she hasn't been heard from in so long.

...then I see this: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/6815689/

Bitch went and got a sex-change on me, godammit!

So, yeah, openings for new muse. Apply within.

http://spoonyexperiment.com/2011/11.....spoonys-jyhad/

Bra-VO, Spoony One. Masterfully played.

So, I just finally bit the bullet and signed up for a Facebook account (because I kinda HAD TO in order to subscribe to stuff on Blip.TV, godammit...), and, when I went to check it out, I...freaked. People I haven't seen in years since I moved to this armpit are there, both friends and enemies. Worse, my ex has been active on it for years now and I recently learned about some of the horrible stuff she said about me there back when we first split up, stuff so bad my parents (also on there) apparently threatened to sue her for defamation of character if she didn't stop (for the record, they didn't tell me it was my ex specifically, saying "it's water under the bridge and we don't want to cause any more problems between you and this person," but since one of the lies was in reference to something I only told her and that backstabbing bitch of a friend of hers, and since my parents wouldn't care less if I hated THAT person or not, process of elimination...).

So...I have a chance to contact people I thought lost to me, if only to show them what a pathetic waste of space I've become since I essentially ditched them in an effort to save a marriage to a woman who told them lies about me in the interim that made me out to be a violent, abusive closet-gay sex fiend (yeah, because someone who is willing to wait 2 TO 4 YEARS BETWEEN LOVEMAKING SESSIONS is an abusive sexual predator), as well as expose myself to the world at large for the failure of humanity I ACTUALLY am, particularly those who previously delighted in my misfortunes when I knew them.

Fuck...I hate social networking.

In honor of this weirdly cute piece of "Ben 10" fanart (http://randomdraggon.deviantart.com/art/Rip-Jaws-Girl-201598248), I give you...THE DEAD PLUMBERS!

One Saturday I fiddled with my Om-ni-trix/
I met a girl who smelled like hairspray and fishsticks/
RIPJAWS GIRL!
I love you!
RIPJAWS GIRL!
I'll spawn with you!
We'll swim around the world, just you and me, Ripjaws Giiirrrlll.

I tapped her on the fin and asked her for a date/
We watched some "Jabberjaw" and ate a pail of bait/
RIPJAWS GIRL!
She flipped my lid!
RIPJAWS GIRL!
Her kisses taste like squids/
We'll dive for deep-sea pearls/
Just you and me, Ripjaws Giirrlll...

We went to the local sushi eatery/
And ordered sa-shi-mi/
The waitress said, "Well, no/
You cannot have it fried"/
So we jumped up on the table and shouted "CANNIBALS!"
And someone played a Beach Boys song on the jukebox/
It was "Kokomo" from "Cocktail"/
So we started screaming
"There's a place called KOKOMO!"

I took her to my parents for a Sunday brunch/
My father looked at her and then he lost his lunch/
RIPJAWS GIRL!
Please, don't you cry/
RIPJAWS GIRL!
That's how he says "Hi!"
We'll go feed nuts to squirrels/
Just you and me, Ripjaws Giiirrrlll.

We went to a shopping mall/
And threw anchovies at shoppers/
And the rent-a-cops all trailed us/
To a tackle shop/
We asked for nightcrawlers/
They said "We ain't X-Men."
We said "You stole our joke, godammit man/
You know how hard it is to make a joke about a fuckin' tackle shop?"

We climbed onto her ship and flew away to Heaven/
I asked her where she got it/
She said, "Stole it from Kevin"/
RIPJAWS GIRL!
My love from outer space!
RIPJAWS GIRL!
Please don't eat my face!
You're my oyster, I'm your pearl, just you and me/
In our garden 'neath the sea/
Just you/
And/
ME,
RIP
JAWS
GIIIIIRRRRRRLLLLLL!

Today, I put my cat to sleep. She was 18 years old and dying of cancer, more tumor than cat, but she fought it until she couldn't anymore. Her name was Selina Kyle Ornellas-Lee, a big name for the little tabby runt of her litter, and she lived up to that big name. She was an Easter gift I gave to my ex-wife back when we were first dating, the runt of the litter because Tia lived with her sister and niece in a tiny one-bedroom apartment at the time, and they already had a cat (the sweet but very ironically named "Frisky," who was more ottoman than cat), so I figured a small cat would take up less space. Selina narrowly avoided being called "Sarabi" or "Nala" by said niece, who only relented when I explained that it was Catwoman's real name; my ex was the one who extended it to a full name, particularly when she'd get mad at Selina (we also had to explain several times through the years that she wasn't named after "Selena, " the popular singer who died around that time). Of course, while my ex was her official owner, even after the divorce everyone knew she was really my cat, especially Selina herself.

From the word "Go," she was an odd one. I know EVERYBODY talks about how human their pet is, but it wasn't an act with Selina: she actually tried to act like a human. She would hold conversations with people, even over the phone. She would drink from cups whenever possible, to the point that we couldn't leave any glasses out or else she'd knock them over trying to pick them up in her paws; she much preferred coffee mugs, where she could loop her paw in the handle and pull it towards her to drink, actually trying to lift it to her lips. And she HATED cats. OK, maybe a bit of an exaggeration; she TOLERATED cats, but whenever a new one was brought into her territory, she would throw up, hide from it, and then spend the next few hours yelling at my ex and I when the coast was clear. She was also an acrobat in her youth, somersaulting up to chest height on me trying to get at cat toys (the ONE element of her feline identity that she enjoyed completely), and her hiding places from other cats were often in places that we'd been convinced no one could ever get near. She also never wanted a cat bed; her sleeping place was the pillow next to me and Tia and we'd better be willing to accept that because THAT was the way she rolled.

Yeah, I know it sounds like she was a pill; I prefer the term "tsundere."

She grew to accept the other cats, and our second cat when we got our own place, a black Siamese mix named Morgan, became her best friend despite RELENTLESSLY teasing her; it was fairly common to hear Selina loudly yelling at her as she was pinned and groomed by her. When Morgan died a year after my ex and I split, Selina didn't leave Morgan's cat bed for a week.

The past few years, Selina definitely slowed down, spending most of her time asleep on my ex's or my son's bed or, when she was too arthritic to climb up there, in the bed made for her over by the dining room table.Seven months ago, she was diagnosed with cancer, but even the vet was amazed at how active she still tried to be and how, despite obviously being in pain, she was always sweet and talkative, even after she lost her voice. She would always come out to say hello to me whenever I came over to pick up Ryan, though, and when she couldn't anymore, I'd go see her and she'd always purr and rub her cheek against my hand.

I held her when the doctor gave her the sedative to put her to sleep, and before she went under the last time, she started purring again. SHe gave a long sigh, and she was gone.

She was the first real pet I ever had...I had a couple of hamsters, and there were dogs growing up, but Selina was the first who actually wanted to be with me, who never ran away or bit or ever acted like she would leave the instant I turned my back. She loved me as much as any creature could love someone like me, and I will miss her dearly. I know Morgan's waiting for her, ready to pin her down and force her to get a bath, but somehow I don't think Selina will mind as much anymore.

Goodbye, my little girl.

Reposting this: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/6627770/

No, I don't know the family or anyone involved, I just saw it on my +Watch list when I came on tonight and felt I should help however I can.

It's only been 2 days, apparently. Pass it around.

http://www.menagea3.net/images/Starfire.jpg

...OK, I feel a LITTLE better now. A little.

I've been hesitant to comment on the changes done to Starfire for the DCnU before because, let's face it, I DRAW PORN. I am best known to most online as a wank artist, drawing stuff designed for one-handed websurfing. Let's face it, I have stuff in my sketchbooks OF STARFIRE HERSELF worse than anything DC will ever publish. So why the Hell would I object to DC basically making Kory (or "Kori" as she now calls herself...I know, big whoop) OFFICIALLY into wank material?

Because it's not Starfire. It's not the character who was one of my first "comic crushes," the character who I used to daydream about meeting. Yeah, totally pathetic, I know, a confession that makes me just another one of "those types." I don't care, though. My journal, my prerogative.

Kory was friggin' love incarnate. She was lusty, sexy, fanservice-tastic...when you're co-created by George Perez, it's almost a given...but she was also sweet, loving, even innocent in her own way. There was more of the Kory I was nuts about in her G-rated "Teen Titans GO!" cartoon version than is in this dead-eyed caricature fucking her way through former sidekicks now. I WANT to believe that there's a story here, something to explain this drastic, horrible lobotomy of her past personality, some explanation as to why someone who had to have Dick Grayson break up with her because she couldn't accept that he didn't love her as deeply as she did him is now claiming to not even remember his name. Maybe I answered my own speculation there; God only knows, I know a lot about the damage having someone you've sworn your life to reject you outright can do to you now. Maybe it broke her mind, and the story will involve her discovering this and rejecting this cold fuck-toy personality...not a good alternative, but one I prefer to this being her new status quo.

My mascot character is Maisy, and her sister Zoe is arguably my best-known creation. The pair of them are derived from an exploration of Starfire's background, the one being used as an excuse for her current personality, a former slave who, after formative years full of sexual abuse, is now free to try and find a life beyond being someone's forced wank-rag. With my own past, this has always been something close to my heart, the idea that someone can define themselves beyond the abuse they lived through; this is one of the things that endeared the original Starfire to me.

So, yeah...people have already told me to shut up, that this isn't "MY" DCU anymore. Now that I've read "Red Hood & The Outlaws" and what Scott Lobdell did to Starfire, I believe it.

http://loverobin.deviantart.com/journal/44091849/

Personally, the worst that's happened to me (knockonwood) is getting stuff put into Scraps without permission, but I've seen this complaint enough times in other journals and pic descriptions that I thought I'd get the word out.

(I posted it here, too, incase there are any victims of DA's banhammer around here who wouldn't see it otherwise).

The main reason I posted this article was because it pretty accurately described the relationship between my ex and me to a distressingly dead-on degree, including all the flawed rationales, thought processes, and, worse, actions I underwent during the whole romantic bullet-train ride to Hell. I just wanted to see, well, how common my mistakes were in general, and, as always, you who responded have given me a lot to think on.

Personally, I don't do "nice things" for recognition...which is good, considering how little I GET. I just heard something as a kid that I ended up taking to heart: "Leave it better than you found it." It sounded like a good idea. I guess I should aim a little higher, considering my self-esteem issues were officially classified as "pathological," but as a general day-to-day motto it's kept me going pretty well. I just figure if I make things a little better for the next person, or at least don't make things worse, then maybe it'll pay forward and I won't have to listen to as many "multiple homicide/mother kills her own kids/hate crimes on the rise" news reports down the road. I guess that's pretty selfish, if you wanna look at it that way, but I'm sick of feeling like I should hide from the world because of how terrible everyone is.

I mean, in my time, I've seen race riots, MULTIPLE school shootings (including one at my old high school), two international wars in the SAME DAMN PLACE, planes slamming into buildings, mass suicides...and I see everyone getting so fucking DOWN, like it's EXPECTED. So, I figure, maybe if I treat the next person better than they probably expect, like give a big tip or pick up some trash or just be NICE when it's not necessary to be, maybe it'll, I dunno, make them wanna be nice to the next person THEY cross. Yeah, as often as not, it just leads to someone labeling me as an "easy mark" or someone to take advantage of, but I've sufficiently proven I can take care of myself if it comes down to it, so whatever. I suck ass under normal circumstances, like I'm fail incarnate, but that's MY cross to bear, it doesn't mean I should drag everyone else down too.

So, yeah, maybe there IS some sort of "reward" I'm expecting from my actions. I want to try and leave things a little better, so my son doesn't end up living in as much of a fucking hell-hole of a world. So sue me. I'm not stopping it.

http://www.heartless-bitches.com/ra.....niceguys.shtml

This is distressingly...accurate.

Gotta share these with you guys...

http://www.comicsalliance.com/2011/.....y-pokemon-art/

EDIT: http://soupandbutter.deviantart.com/

I'm back from what will probably be the last SDCC I'll be able to go to for the immediate future...probably for the best, since I seem to have the uncanny knack to be everywhere the action ISN'T. Still, it was a load of fun, especially since this was the first one where my son was able to enjoy it as more than just a giant Swap Meet for rare toys.

It was a bit of a rough start, what with the connecting flight from Denver to San Diego first being cancelled then being reshuffled onto a smaller plane due to a hailstorm critically damaging most of Frontier's jets, resulting in our luggage getting lost and not arriving in SD until 3am the following morning. As a result, we missed both Wednesday Preview Night and (due to staying up since the airport said the luggage would be delivered by 11) Thursday entirely; not a major loss, since I got a bit of unrelated stuff done (still waiting on the college transcripts I was supposed to have waiting for me when I got back). After learning about the new policies regarding purchasing next year's passes (detailed on the previous journal which apparently only two of you read...thanks for the support and feedback on that, too, you friggin'...), we ultimately decided to just use the money for this trip, at least partially because my dad did NOT want to drive me down to the Gaslamp Quarter at 4AM for a CHANCE to get tickets for next year which we might not be able to use anyway.

Lines were horrible as always, but the panels were definitely worth the trouble, especially the ones with John DiMaggio (voice of Bender, Jake the Dog, etc.) on them. We managed to catch mainly the Cartoon Network ones, netting some good laughs and free swag from them (a "Moustache Cash Stash" coin purse from "Regular Show," a "Ben 10/Generator Rex" crossover keychain...hey, guess which two toons are having a crossover special, by the way?..and a Finn the Human hat from "Adventure Time"). Despite standing in line for 2 hours (literally standing, too...the guards refused to let anyone sit down in line), we missed the "Thundercats" premiere but got into the "Phineas and Ferb" panel after it, which was fun regardless (best moment: when a young fan had to catch his breath while asking when the title characters would ever kiss their girlfriends, making in it sound like he was asking when THEY would kiss, prompting the voice of Phineas to ask him, in-character, "What show are YOU watching?!"). My son, despite his trick ankles causing him pain the entire trip, was a real trooper, but for his sake, I kinda tried to keep line-waiting to a minimum as usual (we had to sit through a panel on inhuman romances in order to get to the "Adventure Time" panel...I did feel really sorry for the authors in it, though, because NOBODY was there for their panel AT ALL).

It was, really, kind of a bittersweet trip in general, because it was also my little sister's last Con and, possibly, the last time I'd see her in person, too; she's moving to Virginia to marry her longtime boyfriend. We...seldom got along as adults, even less as teens (she's where I got Maisy's shtick about refusing to be acknowledged as the younger sibling from), but I wish her health and happiness in her new home. On a lesser note, I also got a blunt reminder of how I probably totally flubbed ever using my years of visiting the Con to any advantage when, in the middle of one forum, I actually watched a group of cosplayers hook up with Cartoon Network execs right beside me; 24 years of going, and this was the closest I'd ever come to breaking into anything, watching someone else get THEIR shot. I tried to follow, but it wasn't like I was a part of it...great, now I'm an outcast at the fucking SDCC. I'm seriously running out of places to be run out of here.

Still, I got some swag, including a copy of Poser 8 for dirt cheap, some good memories, and I guess that's good enough.

I need some help with a judgement call, folks: this could very well be the last San Diego Comic-Con I ever go to. Now, I admittedly took a year or two off at times back before the only way to possibly get a ticket was by being there the previous year or being in some form of entertainment industry, but I've still been going to the SDCC since 1987. In addition, it's become a big part of my son's life, too; he looks forward to it each year, both for the Con itself and for the chance to actually spend actual, real time with me where I'm not falling asleep on him due to my job and where we can actually do something, not to mention the chance to see his relatives.

This year, however, is the last one where (A) he gets into the Con for free since he turns 12 in 2 months, (B) his grandparents will be able to afford to fly him out to to mounting medical costs of their own (lemme put it this way: I'm 38 next month, and I have 5 OLDER siblings...get an idea of my parents' ages now?). On top of that, the ONLY way to get tickets for next year is to get them before they sell out each day (they go on sale at 8am and are typically gone within the hour; one of my sisters' co-workers had to camp out in Downtown San Diego at 4am to get hers), PLUS they raised the prices in "an attempt to encourage people to only buy tickets for the days they will actually attend," so what cost me $100 last year will cost me $225 this year, and THAT all depends on if my situation will improve enough to actually afford to get us out there (which, considering this year, won't happen); it's been suggested that we drive, but that requires time that I may not have due to not being able to get vacation time off at my job (this time now is due to me rearranging my scheule with my other Night Auditor, I'm working a 60-hour week when I get back). I am also physically incapable of driving 14 hours by myself (Hell, the 90-120 minute drive to the nearest city causes me enough pain to keep me awake all night/day, and the only person who would be willing to make the trip with me as a co-driver has to wait until the SDCC tickets go on sale next year for a possible chance to get them before they sell out.

So, basically...should I just not bother with trying to get tickets for next year's SDCC, and just use that money to make THIS year's final trip for my son and me memorable for the last couple of days we're here?