First twelve hours of today.

Amber, Milly, Chenai, Anna, Sarah, and some other girl I don’t remember her name huddled around Amber’s laptop and we watched and laughed at awful videos of girls clapping their buttcheeks and guys in bird-dinosaur suits banging a blond girl.
Then we tried watching the first episode of Freaks and Geeks on youtube, except they disabled the audio on the last part. Pooey.
Then we watched five episodes of Glee on Hulu. It’s a fun show 8D.
By this time it was 3 am and I took a shower and went to bed as Amber tried cramming her perspective homework bemoaning why did she procrastinate. WE’RE SUCH GOOD INFLUENCES ON EACH OTHER . I think I fell asleep at 4.
Then somehow the fire alarm went off at 7:24 as a bunch of disgruntled dorm mates walked down the stairs.
Me: *too groggy to be pissed* Well, at least this is the first time it happened.
Megan: It’s the third damn time.
Marilyn: no it’s the FOURTH time.
(apparently all the other times it happened I had classes)
I come back and try to sleep again. Then I had a relatively bad dream about Howard Brodie being attacked by Freddy Krueger, except his hands weren’t knives, they were multiple GIANT ASS battle axes attached to his elbows, and like in the movie, he could travel everywhere except the glass elevator…that was riding on a glass escalator. And every time he got a dorm mate they would turn into ghouls. I willed myself awake and checked the time. 9:13. Probably shouldn’t have watched Nightmare on Elm Street and borrow all of Megan’s Hellsing.
I woke up again at 11 am because I turned on my alarm at that time. I stayed in bed until 12 and finally got up. Yayyyayayay

Good writing requires good planning vtoo. And lots of pictures.

WELCOME MY DORM ROOM.



Those three doors are the walk in closet, the side door where YOU CAN HEAR EVERYTTHINNNGG. And the entrance/exit to the hallway.

Lemme try photobucket to see if they’re any bigger… By the way, the neighboring building is like

BEST VIEW EVER.

I’m serious.

We usually don’t update our little board thing at all. But that vaseline incident was kind of awkward.
Me: Hey Milly do you know where my tube of vaseline is? I don’t take it off the shelf and it’s not on the ground anywhere.
Her: Oh yeah it’s on my bed.
Me: …uhh okay, why?
Her: I was feeling a bit dry.
Me: o_O…you didn’t do anything weird to it did you.
Her: Huh what? No no, I mean my lips were dry..you know…What, did you think I peed in it or something? *laughs*
TIME TO SHOW OFF.


Almost every joint in its body is movable. Including the beak and wings.
My teacher asked me, “Is it going to stand up?” since I only bolted the bottom feet and I made my pig stand up last time. Well, it can. Sort of.


The outside parts and back/hind legs were made entirely out of a stuffed monkey and a one dollar sewing kit. Those feet right there are the remains of his ears >:D
I’m pretty happy with the way it’s going about, I get a lot of wows and ahs and damn that must have taken a long time (More than 20 hours already). Then my sister complained, “Well, the wings don’t look right! Why didn’t you ask for more wing feathers and less down feathers from WaiPo?”
…Which is true, I originally wanted them to open and close all the way. BUT I SPENT MY BLOOD, SWEAT, AND TEARS on this. WHY’D YOU DISS IT WHY :’( MEANIE.

My tears were actually tears of “OW THAT HURTS. FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF.”
My mom called it a chicken.

.

K I’m going to work on it some more ._.

Good writing requires good planning? v1.

I made a checklist of all the things I’ll draw and write. Because I forgot halfway though last time.
And this will take me two days, because my disgruntled dad finally let me bring his camera to the dorm, so by the time I finish putting up the other part it’ll be Monday.

Yesterday I went home to wash my clothes and to trick or treat with Maily 8D! Oh boy, I haven’t seen her in a while. I went with the 10 minutes of rummaging through my drawers to pull out a half assed ninja costume that looks passable. Black long sleeve shirt and pants and a t shirt over my head.
For some reason that confused all of us, including Maily and her sister, her mom insisted on driving behind us as we went trick or treating and carpooling us to certain streets. I supposed she wanted to make sure her daughters’ friends are safe, except the van is a five seater. Maily, Myly (her sister), their mom, Tweety, Alice, Myly’s friend, and me all squeezed into it. Some wangsters laughed at us when we got out in front of a house, hollering “What the fuck man?! That car seats 12 people or something?! AAHAHAHAH!”
And because of that, by 9 pm we were cruising through her neighborhood looking for houses with their lights on so we could trick or treat.

And when we dejectedly walked back to the car. They turned the lights back on again.

Our dorm also decorated for Halloween, Our floor just had cobwebs around because we’re too lazy to do anything special. Marta, our RA, stuck cockroaches and spiders in the webs in the bathroom.
I also think putting them in the shower stalls were a bad idea, since the humidity or something weighed them all down.

COMING UP: I’ll bring my camera to my dorm and upload more comics I’ve saved in advance. JUST AS PLANNED.
And perhaps take pictures of my roommates and stuff. And my work. That I spent my past weekend(s) on and I need a life.

More silly stuffs. Or maybe not.

I can’t believe I checked out a computer and a tablet (Ooh Wacom Intuos 4) just to draw comics in the computer lab.
I mean, I could draw in my journal but it’s kind of lonely knowing I can’t flash it to other people who are interested enough to flip though it. I even miss my sister’s constant “WHERE IS YOUR JOURNAL DID YOU DRAW MORE COMICS” inquiries.
…
Now I feel awkward sitting in an ANIMATION lab doing this. Truth to be told I also need to make a After Effects clip but I probably won’t be doing it.
…Oh wait I just did it.
You know this Intuos 4 is really nice. The lab sizes are big enough to draw on comfortably, yet small and compact enough to stick in your bag and walk off with it :0. It’s also a classic black and a display screen on the side pops up once you plug it in. Nicceee.

Oogling aside, I mentioned a lot of events with cockroaches, we probably have an infestation going on. So..

After we had a good laugh over it, I stuck it in the bathroom since there’s more traffic and it’s more likely to be seen.
Several cries and exclamations were later heard that evening. Although most people did the same thing As Chenai and stood a few feet outside scrutinizing it to see if it really was real, because our bathroom is cleaned everyday. I guess it wasn’t believable enough, but most people I heard took it goodhumoredly.

Anddd right after I drew this, I forgot all my other ideas for comics. I wonder if I should make a check list or something. And the pen nib for this tablet is broken. Blergh.

I noticed this for a while, but I get really nervous/pensive when I talk to someone I consider an authority figure. My RAs living in Howard Brodie are only a year older than us, but when I talk to them it’s polite, nervously awkward conversation. Most of the other people living in the dorm are also older, but I get along with them just like…normal people even though the RAs are normal people, too. And I noticed a lot of college teachers prefer to be called by their first name, but it feels so weird for me to call them like that D:

Can’t think of anything else to saybai.

Silly stuffs.

That butthurt post below is kind of embarrassing now. Ah well.

Speaking of butts, my sister sent me this really weird Japanese video that had had naked men running and fighting with lightsaber/rose penises and humping SWAT team members to bliss. But here’s a more child friendly video.

I don’t have a tablet with me. So here are some exchanges that took place these past few days.

My desk is right next to the door that connects to the other dorm room. Angela’s bed is right behind it, so we can only open it a crack. I think I mentioned that they’re (Angela and Rebecca) really loud all the time. I since gotten used to it, but It’s more annoying for me when she sleeps because she is literally a human Snorlax.
4:00 PM
Angela: SSSSKKKKFFFFFFFQQQQQJJJJJJKKKKKKKKKKKKKKSSSZZZXXXJJJKKKSSDFFQQQCCCCZZZKKKJJKK
Me: o_o;
8:30 PM
Angela: SSSSSSSSSSKKKKKKKKQQQQQQQQLLLLLLLJJJJJKKKGGGGKKK*Snortgrunt*mmmMmmehhmmummZZZSSSJJKKKK
Me: ಠ_ಠ;
There’s nothing I can do about her snoring except TOLERATE IT D:
And she sleeps through her really really loud alarm clock, too. It once woke up all my roommates and it went off for over an hour. Stopped, and went on for another hour. It was a Saturday afternoon though.
Okay enough whining.
3:xx AM
Marilyn: *Bangs on the side door*
Me: *Stops homework and opens it*
Marilyn: I’m ssoooo wasttedd 8D
Me: I see, don’t barf
Marilyn: Lol who cares it’s Angela’s room!

9:xx PM
Amber: So this movie (Teeth) has a lot of subtle phallic imagery.
*Movie opens with two nuclear smoking chimney stacks in the background*
Someone: I see giant penises already! That’s not subtle at all!

11:xx AM
Lindsey, Megan, Jenny, and Me: *imitating the Monty Python horse riding thing by skipping and clapping through the street*
clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap
Then they introduced me to the first episode of Torchwood.
(JACK IS STANDING SOLEMNLY ON TOP OF A BUILDING AS DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYS. FOR AT LEAST A MINUTE)
While he’s doing this
Lindsey: *low voiceover* I am Jackass Man who likes to stand on top of buildings. My name is Jack. Ass.
And then I watched one random episode of Doctor Who. I had a vague notion of what it was before, but even after 40 years it’s still retains it’s campy-ness. Wow.

2:xx AM
Me: Oh hey a cockroach in the common room!
Everyone in kitchen: omgletseeit.
Cockroach: HI EVERYONE!
Everyone: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKILLITKILLIT!

Story from a neighboring girl whose name I forgot
Girl: I’m going to sleep.
Cockroach on bed: Hey sexy ;D
Girl: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

10:xx PM
Lindsey: I’m tried *throws jacket down*
Cockroach: *crawls out from it* PEEKABOO.
Lindsey and Megan and Jenny: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
I failed at catching it, sorry.
…But why does everyone SCREAM when they see one, and ONLY one? I’ll start screaming if there were multiple ones running everywhere, but when people scream over something like this, it unnerves me and makes me start to fear it, too. Like snakes.

A few years ago in our front yard.
Me: *squats down 2 feet next to a snake and watches in fascination for a few minutes*
My dad and mom come back from their walk
Me: Hey look Baba there’s a snake here! *points to it*
Mom: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Around this time I learned my mom was extremely afraid of snakes since one chased her in her childhood or something. My mom is pretty hardened over lots of stuff, but she absolutely fears snakes.
Dad; GET THE SHOVEL AND A FLASHLIGHT.
My dad stabbed the side of its body on the first shot, and he tried futilely to kill it after it slid into the brushes while I held the flashlight out for him to see. But it disappeared.
I’ve always been paranoid that that snake would attack me in revenge every time I take out the trashcan.

Later on, a smaller snake met his unfortunate doom with my dad and a spade.
Dad: *cuts it in half as it squirms*
Me: D:
Dad: Hey! This is a great stress reliever! *starts cutting it in quarters and eighths gleefully*
Me: D8

I went off topic and forgot what I was going to write about again.

Those last two lines. Really stung on so many levels.

To the point I don’t think I should type this in this state but fuck it.
I may not be the kindest person, nor do I know the right things to say in certain situations. I can’t comfort people in real life, I always stand around stiffly and look away because I don’t know what to do. So I feel better online where I can help newbies finish quests and bosses, giving out free stuff or dispensing advice because it makes me feel empowered. Isn’t that pathetic? I just try to feel better about myself like this, and that’s one of the main reasons I keep playing MMORPGs.

So I wanted to listen to you, I wanted to help somehow if you were feeling down or you really needed someone to talk to. I can’t bring myself to say “It’s all right it’s all right!” when I’m even sure it’s all right in your life because I am not you. So I inject questions about what’s going on, how are you feeling.
I try to comfort and comfort and say realistically positive things, the best I can, really. I suck at it. But I get frustrated when you shoot down everything I say with something self defeating or pessimistic. Our conversation starts to sound like a passive aggressive argument. I start to tell, (irritated, to be honest) you to do it yourself, because if you’re depressed only you can drag yourself out of it, but it sounds like you don’t want to do it. At this point I know I sounded like I was lecturing and assuming, that must have been annoying to you, too.
I don’t care right now if this is selfish or if this is too personal, I wish I didn’t come home this weekend. My dad is a walking timebomb all the time, my sister would rather take happy pills than her vitamins and fish oil, and my mom brings back fliers from the hospital for depression, for herself. I don’t know how to help, so I try not to aggravate any of them now.
I thought that conversation we were having was going okay, I was racking my brain figuring out what to say next, which was why I took so long to reply. But those lines, probably less than ten words total, hurt. It made me feel like my efforts were useless, that I’m not helpful at all. That I’m worthless compared to that person. Friendships are not equal, but even parents shouldn’t go up to their children and say “Mary is my favorite daughter!”. This weird sensation of anger, jealousy, self loathing, and other things just exploded after that.
…
Maybe I’m reading too much into it, maybe I’m taking it too personally. The typed text in a computer is a hard thing to judge. If that’s the case, this whole journal is a huge embarrassing rant for nothing.

But I feel better now.

Dumps and Ravings.

I was planning on updating ten comics, which is really ridiculous, considering I always get tired after the third one, but here goes.

Howard Brodie is an all girls dorm because we have to share the showers and bathrooms and stuff. It’s pretty nice how they clean it every morning, so I stopped walking into the shower with my flip flops. This has been going on since we all moved in, but in our floor we have four averaged sized sinks making a little L, spaced averagely, and the water pressure is average, no huge gushes or water or pathetic trickles. But ALWAYS, by the end of the day, THIS HAPPENS.

A Birds eye view.

I really have NO clue how someone can make such a large mess. Do they wash their hair in the sink? Do they somehow have huge ass hands that make water spill everywhere?
The problem is I don’t remember her face anymore, nor do I recognize her as someone on our floor since people wash at different times 24/7 and it was morning. I have trouble recognizing things in the morning.
Not only did she not even look like Carmen, there wasn’t any frosting on her muffin in the first place. Orz.

Anyway, classes. I probably should have drawn this a long time ago.
I remember ranting how I hated his voice and his teaching style in the first two weeks, but when you have a five hour class, you get used to it. It’s hard to take him seriously, but he’s a good teacher. I must admit I didn’t expect perspective to be…hard. As in I’m-so-screwed-I’m-already-getting-a-Cplus-hard. Like, I dismissed it as “Draw lines to the vanishing point whoop! You’re done”. But like Analysis of Form, every class kicks your ego and humbles you. There’s isometric and atmospheric perspectives, and we’re now doing one point perspective, but there’s so many factors in one point, like how to draw hills, stairs, and shadows in perspective, how to line people up so they’re in proportion, how one point perspective must use ninety degree angles for corners no matter how extreme the one point is. Etc etc. I learned a lot of stuff that should have been obvious, like how tree bark should get closer together at the edges to show the tree is a round three dimensional shape, and how it’s the light source that fades into darkness when it goes farther, which gives such a high contrast. Along with his packets of references and lectures, he also mentioned some good old advice: Don’t be an asshole know it all when you’re the student who came here to learn and time and effort put into your work is the real determining factor of how good your art is. And that, is the reason I’m suffering in his class. My classmates put ten-thirty hours into their work, and I spent a rushed four hours. And it shows. God I hate inking.

I remember listening to a friend angrily defuse as she recounted how her cousin called her to complain about her own college life, ending it with “Man, you’re so lucky to be in an art school! It must be really fun and easy over there, huh?” Right after she finished clocking twenty hours in the lab editing film. It may be simple, and most times you’ll understand what the hell you’re doing, but it’s really. Really. Time. Consuming.

Laying out all my problems and faults: The pig and his replacement parts took me five hours because I was really heavy handed and had trouble figuring out how to joint him. The chicken I kind of half assed for an hour and a half. The cat took me another five hours, I kept cutting out his legs in the wrong direction and ruined the slider joint on his back, which is why he’s so inflexible. I ran to the animation lab to record the day before it was due, and realized my background wasn’t wide enough to cover the entire camera yet zooming in would cut off the pig and cat. I quickly made those sliding doors as a way to hide that fact.
Place the pig into position. Click. Move the legs a bit, move the tail a bit, move the ear a bit, move the head so it’s like it’s nodding. Click. Repeat for four hours. I was really rushing it, Right after I finished I kept thinking things like “Dammit, I should have made those doors curtains like a stage.” and “I should have done it two frames a take, it’s too choppy and fast.” and also “I should have outlined the pig’s nose in a dark pink instead of black”. In fact, I was muttering “fuckerfuckerfuckerfucker” like a mantra to my pig puppet as I was building him because I was so incredibly frustrated about how much time I spent on him, yet he looked so plain and simple. All those hours amounted to only eight seconds on Youtube. Yet at the same time, I don’t hate this process. Even though if I don’t go into animation and this class only counts as an elective, I say it was worth the fun.

I DON’T REMEMBER WHAT OTHER THINGS I WANTED TO WRITE ABOUT SINCE I WENT OFF TALKING ABOUT MY PROBLEMS AGAIN. Oh yes this.
I dropped into my old counselor’s office to discuss my college transcript and spring semester classes and heard her talking cheerily on the phone. While grimacing. Slouched all over her desk. It was hilarious. It must take skill to be able to make faces while maintaining your voice the same pitch.

Reading this may ruin the quality of your life.

The previous rant was pretty terrible, after saying my rants weren’t as whiny and self defeating as before, I write one that’s…whiny and self defeating. I’m such a bundle of joy !
Thanks for replying Marcus and Teresa (and hi Diana!), I didn’t check my e-mail for a week. And Uncle Fred gave me an uplifting comment when I wrote a discouraged status about my jointed paper puppets. Except now it feels too weird to reply back now…

Btw while drawing the angel picture, I was pretty serious until I got to detailing it, then I stopped, giggled for two minutes and wondered if I should just censor it, and then continued. I wonder who cged that blue guy’s penis. In figure drawing I just leave it as in awkward plain rectangle.
Something I learned in figure drawing. We may not say it in front of the models, but some of us are pretty…judgmental? One of my friends started talking about how her live model in class had the weirdest shaped boobs since the top parts curved out like a slide.
All of my models have been normal looking. So far.
*coughs* still sick I think.
SO ANYWAY this happened in the cafeteria a week ago?

Now I’m terribly conscious that I DO stick it out when I drink, and I don’t know whenever to put it down or keep it straight out, because I can’t relax it anymore AFAJDKSKFKL. I wish she never told me about it.

I did that too before. I may not be a kill-someone-weaker-than-you-and-dry-hump-their-dead-body-and-laugh griefer, but I did ruin Jennifer’s life, who is a HARDcore Harry Potter fan, by taking her Prisoner of Azkaban book and showing her that Snape has a goatee in the English editions. She started ranting and threatening to send angry hatemail to GrandPre. Even four days later, she was STILL mad.
Another discussion in the cafeteria.

HEY TERESA CAN YOU STILL LIE PEACEFULLY IN THE GRASS WITH NO WORRIES ABOUT SPIT AND DOGSHIT NOW ?

This is a sketch. That was four hours.

Man I really need to learn how to use photoshop faster. And draw more cleanly

And I was listening to this on repeat while drawing it.

NO COMICS FOR U ALICE.

Oh btw we have two more chickens.

Blaaaahhhhhhggggs.

I decided to suddenly post this because of Teresa’s latest blog. HELLO FOURTH WALL. *PUNCHES*
Not that I don’t read other people’s blogs. I do, but I don’t check as often because I feel kind of stalkerish and wow I didn’t know Chris built TVs and computers and went to CalPoly because I didn’t really talk to him.
I guess that’s is the reason.
…
I just sat in front of the screen for loss of words for a moment there. I have no idea why I’m writing like this.
I’ve guess I’ve changed, my posts aren’t as whiny, self defeating, rants about myself all the time. In fact, the horrible horrible knowledge that my sister (YES YOU ALICE.) has found out this journal has made me more careful in what I post. But at the same time, I’m sure everyone else has always done the same thing (hey Marcus!). We may put some of our observations, our thoughts, our feelings out on the big bad internet, but we know well enough how the wrong exposed comment can sour relationships and ruin reputations, so we keep them to ourselves.
I don’t even know why I wrote that. It’s not like I’m holding a secret hatred for anyone. Gah maybe my four hours of sleep is getting to me.
Anyway, sometimes I think of what to write in my journals, planning topics I’m going to cover of my life, but it always seems to be different when I type it out, and I revise it and edit it until it looks presentable and non-blackmailable, but it never really seems to be…me. I’m going off topic.
I’m blogging, because I’m afraid of changing. I’m checking friends of friends’ blogs because I want to have a sense where the people from my high school are doing, but I have no idea how they’re living, what people they’re meeting, of course I’m not them, but it seems so alien to me to not be present in their daily lives. All those years of standing on the muddy grass or sitting on the steps eating lunch or laze around after 6th period. And we’re not doing that anymore. So I’m just desperately trying to grab hold of them anyway I can.
It’s weird, I never really worried about it when I was staying in the dorms. I would poke fun at Jennifer’s collection of Harry Potter clothes, trade story ideas and concepts with Rea, try to correct JJ’s prepared speech for her counselor, roll around Andy’s bed, listen to Won talk about his outdoor adventures, and eat with total strangers with the knowledge I’ll forget who they are the next time I see them. But then I got sick with the stomach flu, crapping five times a day and spending two restless nights unable to sleep and too much time to think. God, I’ve always been a standoffish person, even to people I considered friends. Every time a person joins in the conversation my ability to talk goes down a notch until I’m basically just listening.

And then I wondered what the hell am I going to major in. I really wished I went to community college and dicked around for awhile. Because every time someone confidently tells me their major, they ask about mine, and I stammer “Undeclared”. Of course, they tell me it’s good to think about it, to spread my wings and I’m lucky I can check out different classes I want. But every class is expensive in a private university. I’m pretty damn lucky I can afford to go to this school, but my mom has been pressuring me to go see the counselor to see if I can use the college classes I did in high school, because my dad wants me to try to finish in three years since it’s so expensive and we don’t qualify for financial aid. I’m lucky that illustration/2d animation/game design all have the same core and essential classes and I managed to plan my spring and summer 2010 courses, but really, I go into the library and read up about clothing material in fashion, costume makeup and writing scripts for movies and they all seem appealing. I remember reading some personal statement paragraph, the one we’re all supposed to do as seniors and send to our UC or some other university. The guy was talking about how he was a volunteer at a hospital, and one accident galvanized him to want to become a doctor.
I never had that sudden realization, like the first chapter of GTO where Onizuka sees a high school girl fall quite literally for her teacher and decides he also wants to become one. My first grade monthly book has a picture of me saying “When I grow up I want to become a(n) aRtist” with me holding a brush in front of an easel. I simply went to an art school because…it seemed like it was my strongest, and only, skill. But when I finally come here, I realize they’re so many different fields, and I’m a complete NOOB in every single one. I don’t know how to use photoshop! Or ink by hand! Or create 3d replicas on Maya! Stop motion in Dragon! I never applied makeup seriously! I get stage fright after two minutes! Never held a powerdrill or smoldered anything! And sewing was the only home economics skill I really sucked at! It’s all frustrating yet inspiring, I want to learn a little bit of everything, but I don’t have the patience, and my parents don’t have the time and money to waste on frivolous pursuits, not to mention my dad thinks I’m wishy washy about this as an actual job. I feel I’m in the right field at last but…The idea of actually doing..whatever I’m going to do, as a job, as a career, still scares me. I’m afraid I’ll hate it later on.

God that is one messed up trainwreck.