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I just got out of bed to write this. My mind wonapos;t shutup.

Today at work, I was having some very serious, very important/deep thoughts. Really, it all started this morning when I awoke from a really bad dream about a disemboweled baby bobcat in my arms, still alive and seizuring while looking at me. You donapos;t want more details. Anyway. Today at work, I got to thinking about.....well no, maybe it started yesterday when I watched an episode of "The Academy" on hulu.com. Hell, in any case, the point Iapos;m trying to make is that today, while driving my forklift in the big warehouse I work in, I got to thinking about my future. Again. What am I going to do? What are my options? Is Jolien okay with whatever options they may be?

Iapos;m so fed up with not having a plan right now. I think that itapos;s such BULLSHIT that in order to become a police officer you have to go through people breaking you down. And I realize that I sound like a baby. "They yelled at me. They werenapos;t nice to me. It was hard. Waah. Waah." Well thatapos;s how I feel. Deal with it. Maybe I am a baby. Maybe if I went back and did it again I would be better prepared knowing what itapos;s like going in. Maybe Iapos;m just not cut out for that environment. Who effing knows. What do I do with my life? How do I do it? Why do they have to confuse you and yell at you and stress you out so much? Why canapos;t they sit you down and talk to you like normal, civilized, respectful people? "Because when youapos;re out in real life and youapos;re in a high stress situation, you need to know how to handle it." Yeah, well then tell me how to handle it. Show me. Teach me. Donapos;t humiliate me in front of the class. Donapos;t spit and yell in my face. Thatapos;s bullshit. Maybe all of the people who told me Iapos;m too nice to be a police officer are right. Maybe they can all go to hell because they might be wrong.

I have bad credit. For a long time. Because of the car repo. I have just enough money to pay the bills. .... I want more. I want...better. I want to help people. I want to make a difference. I want a leadership role. I want to form a plan and move past this frustration Iapos;ve been feeling lately. I brought up these feelings with Jolien tonight, you know, just to tell her what was on my mind. I think I just frustrated her. She doesnapos;t know what to do anymore than I do. She pointed out that I quit things when they get hard. Sheapos;s right, I have done that a lot in the past. And we didnapos;t fight or anything, but there was tension in our conversation.

I want a beer. (Just, in general, a beer sounds really nice at this moment. Donapos;t read anything more into that.) I still need to look into the firefighter thing. I need to workout more in general, get in better shape. Iapos;ve started watching what Iapos;m eating again. I took a break from that a week before my birthday, and although I havenapos;t really gained any weight, I feel more, I dunno, blah.

I would like to go back to school. Full time or otherwise. Takes money. Iapos;ve been saving up a little each paycheck for a while, for the day after Thanksgiving. Itapos;s a four or five year tradition now to wait in line someplace at 3am with my best friend. Every year we get something really cool. Maybe this year Iapos;ll go and not get anything. Spend the money on school instead. And if you donapos;t know me, the fact that I just thought that and typed it out means Iapos;m really serious about wanting change. (I would kill for cool electronics and gadgets)

Jolien wants kids in the next year or two. Iapos;m not entirely opposed to the idea. It doesnapos;t scare me nearly as much as it used to. But I feel like once you have kids, thatapos;s it. Your life becomes taking care of the family. Which is actually a good thought in my mind, I donapos;t mind that thought at all, I look forward to that. However, I want better for my family. Better for myself.

Itapos;s now 12:02AM. 00:02 HRS. I donapos;t know if I feel any better after writing all of this or not, really. I thought coming downstairs and typing would help me calm down. Ugh. Iapos;m 25 years old. I think I still have time to do whatever I want. Even with Jolien wanting kids in the next year or so. I just want to know what I want.

And you know, with the whole wanting kids thing- Iapos;m pretty sure that itapos;s just the everyday "guy" reaction to when your wife says she wants kids. The "guy thing" to do is to get nervous and slam on the breaks in your head. Well, Iapos;m doing that, but at the same time, I very much want to be a father. I like kids. I like babies. Wait. Shit. I really donapos;t know anything about either. Shutup. Okay, look, maybe what I mean to say is that I look forward to learning. I just worry a lot about money. And Iapos;ve been told a million times that if you wait until youapos;re "ready" to have kids, you never have kids, so I know Iapos;ll never really be ready. *sigh* I donapos;t think Iapos;m effectively communicating at this point. I need to go to bed.

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From around the age I was eight up until I was twelve or so, I was pretty big on Peter Pan.

It seems contradictory to me, because all I wanted to do when I was a child was be a grown-up. My mother would constantly say I was always in such a hurry to be older, that I wasnapos;t living the days as I was supposed to. But it was important to be taken seriously, and to have the ability to make my own decisions and assert my independence.

Thereapos;s a line in the movie of it that always gets to me: There are many different kinds of bravery. Thereapos;s the bravery of thinking of others before oneapos;s self. Now, your father has never brandished a sword nor... Nor fired a pistol, thank heavens. But he has made many sacrifices for his family, and put away many dreams. He put them in a drawer. And sometimes, late at night, we take them out and admire them. But it gets harder and harder to close the drawer... And he does. And that is why he is brave.

Why I would take to a storybook concerning a boy that never wanted to grow up is still beyond me. I loved it. Very much so. Every boy and girl I saw on the streets felt like one of the Lost Boys, the kind the world has forsaken and you donapos;t understand why.

Later on, though, you realize the silliness of fairy tales. The Little Mermaidapos;s transformation from mermaid to human in the original tale is painful, and her blistering feet hurt with every step she takes, and she doesnapos;t get her prince and that is your fairytale.

I dressed up as Tinkerbell when I was ten, even though I didnapos;t have blonde hair and she wasnapos;t really my favorite character. My mother was kind enough to be Mrs. Darling. My hands were stickly sweet and there was a lot of laughter. We stayed in, watching ghost movies and handing candy to the trick or treaters.

I was silly enough to genuinely believe a faerie died somewhere if you said you didnapos;t believe in them and some nights Iapos;d go, I do believe, I do, I do.

I miss the days where all you had to do to keep someone alive was believe in them.
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When�I was in grade school, we watched the St. Louis Rams games every weekend.� I really started getting interested the year the Rams went to and won the Superbowl.� That may sound a little fair-weather or something similar--I donapos;t know what to call it--but ever since, the Rams have been my team.� Last year, I caught a couple games at the end of the season, both of which they won (I think. �I canapos;t remember).� Three weeks ago, I went to the SUB�for dinner on a really, really busy Sunday, and after seeing the Rams rock it up (and then lose), I decided I�had to start watching the games again.� Even if the Rams lose every week, watching these games just makes my day.� It makes my week.

Unfortunately, I donapos;t know anyone here who likes the Rams.� The past few seasons have been pretty bad for them, so I think a lot of people have stopped caring.� When a cityapos;s team is going to the Super Bowl or the World Series or whatever else, I�think most people get pretty pumped.� When the Rams were big When the Cardinals were in the World Series two years ago, I�was kind of into it.� I was pretty excited when they won.� But I was only really into baseball for a few months in third grade. �Iapos;ve been a football woman since fifth grade.� Iapos;ve been a Rams woman since fifth grade.

So understandably, now, when the Rams are pretty much rocking this game against the Dallas Cowboys, Iapos;m experiencing a bit of frustration.� Because nobody cares.� When�I watch football, Iapos;m a yeller.� I get into it.� I want to talk to people about the game.� And I canapos;t. �Because nobody cares.

But (and yes, Iapos;m sublimating my football needs by writing about it in my LiveJournal) THIS�GAME�IS� FREAKING�AWESOME.

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Iapos;m in Reno, head-numb and happy, with Natalie and Xander lying on the beds of our Vagabond Inn getaway home. We canvassed today, knocking on the doors of the fiercely undecided and the politically exhausted--doing our best to be smiling, chipper symbols of "Barack Obamaapos;s Campaign for Change". This is the big one, and we all know it, and everybody we talk to does. Even the people who try to convince me heapos;s actually a communist or Arab or whatever--they feel in their bones that this election is a supercritical moment of our national history, and whatever my doubts and concerns, my shaky handed instincts of radical leftism, I will not sit this one out on the sidelines. There are 16 days until this election happens, and for that time, there is nothing I care about more than getting this man--call him "the new FDR--and Joe Biden elected. So I have organized phonebanks in the co-ops, today I am in Reno, and during the last days of it all I will likely be in North Carolina, knocking on doors and� helping to make it happen.

I have been well; flush with affection and warmth for those around me, consumed by the weekly crises and passions that inevitably arise, constantly working and learning and growing in my job at Breakthrough and as house manager, unbelievably lucky gradually treading into a self with more confidence and less inhibiting anxieties. There is a tremendous amount of work to do; midterms on economic justice and energy systems next week, a research project on paying off the US�debt to China by buying them clean energy infrastructure, progress on the toolkits Iapos;m helping Breakthrough with (viewable at campusinpower.org). On November 20th, I turn 21, and Iapos;m starting to feel really old--not as in "my knees are creaky" but that my experiences of high school feel very very long ago, and yet still so vivid and emotionally relevant and powerful in my life. As I go further and further down these paths I have chosen, the whole body of my history feels unspeakably huge, like it will be too big to ever share with anybody else I meet now, like it is a novel I can never give to anybody else to read. Which calls into question the validity or importance of the book in the first palace. Iapos;m getting bleary, my feet are achy, and I think that is all keith wrote.

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back again
eileen thought of quitting sports club.
but it seems do not make much different.
CAP is kind of driving me crazy coz my pp poster not done.
den things to edit here and there�wah kao
let me finish my pp poster can. Now midnight and need to edit scedule.
brain close le la watever things that tell me now at this time i cnt take it
i cannot concentrate. Im juz tired, want to rest.
to state it clear, im not a hyper person at nite
at nite still think about IG�stuff, really si bei no life man

back to topic. Even i quit my time still damn short.
now i got events nvm. After replug i will not handle any events.
i will rest for (how many weeks i nt sure). See my mood
actually i wanted to learn dance after pp presentation.
but now. Ehhh. I not sure le.
today went for my guitar lesson and my teacher ask me to take exams.
oh no more worse. Because need to practice.
more time being used up. I oso intending to take exams.
the exams is next year april. Now start to practice.
and is grade 4 guitar exam. Scare the results is bad.
my teacher say under him guarantee can pass de
fail he will pay me 3 x exam fees. Hahhaha
i wondering sure not. Hahahha
im not tat person who purposely failed.
is juz that i do not have confident.
now so many days going to be used up.
need to see how liao

nites =)

�

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So afte a while, I decided to make the leap to pen and ink, with some false starts. Now, due to an archival error, the comics directly dealing with this period of time are somewhat damaged, but mostly itapos;s just coffee, although the first one in this series (Time Traveler) is pretty beat up.

So at first I wanted to mark the introduction of pen with a sharp contrast from the old style. I actually like pencil as a medium quite a lot, but it has horrible problems with smudging and general impermanence, so pen is pretty much a necessity. BTW, if you canapos;t read these (and it isnapos;t a function of my poor lettering skills), you can right click and use "view image" to get them in a magnifiable window to themselves.



This next one I felt was too pen heavy. I liked the clarity, but the drawings seemed a bit too simple.


Finally, I settled on a kind of hybrid pen/pencil style, which I like pretty well.

Incidentally, this is my friend Claireapos;s favorite comic that Iapos;ve done.

Next (and final) archive: The Punster tackles serialized drama Donapos;t miss it
P.S. Does anyone know how to do alt text for images? Thatapos;d help me a lot.

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davids bridal complaint

Hereapos;s whatapos;s up with the divorcees...
Theyapos;re both miserable.
I still have to talk mom through tearful fits of depression.
And dads not much better.
Theyapos;ve discovered that neither of them have enough money apart to keep the house, so they will both be couch surfing pretty soon here. Yay for legally homeless parents. I do think itapos;s kind of funny that my parents and I will be in pretty much the same situation financially and in regards to living situation...I may even be better off. Priceless.
Dad talked to his best friend Dean about the divorce. Dean said:
Well, you know it struck me as odd, when you guys started going out, you were talking about Cindy and you didnapos;t say anything except apos;we both want to have kidsapos; You didnapos;t tell me about her personality or what you had in common other than kids.
Mom talked to her best friend Lyn. Lyn said:
Iapos;ve always thought you could do better than David.
I guess everyone saw this coming except me and mom.
The whole thing is just a mess, remind me never to get married.

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