Aeyli

I think it's been six years since I've been on here proper.  I'm slightly less of a moron now than I was when I posted most of this nonsense, but don't get your hopes up.

The big artsy fartsy frupdate in my life is a new webcomic!  Hip hip!  It's a collaborative piece called Tidings that I'm co-secreting with a friend (Shannon).  She does most of the evil plotting and I do most of the infernal scribbling, but it's very cooperative and we both talk through and come to a consensus on almost every image and plot point.  That sounds tedious, but we're both big enough jerks that we have a blast doing it.  

The comic is pretty splendid.  Once we get about halfway through the second chapter, we'll start posting Chapter 1 on the website and I'll put in a link to it here.  

In any case, I hope to return here on a semi-regular basis and post up previews and character sketches.  We will also have a Tidings Comic DA account (tidingscomic.deviantart.com) which will have similar such things, but will be purely Tidings-centric.

-A

Well, today was my first euthenasia and I know it's lame, but I'm kinda bummed about it.  Normally, I wouldn't watch, but it was slow and I hung around with the reciept.  And damn, if that cat wasn't the most alive and dignified one I'd seen so far at the hospital.  Usually, they're either half-dead or hallucinating from drugs, so finding one that'd actually look me in the eye was a novelty.  I thought they'd got the wrong cat when they put him on the table.  It might not have been so bad, but he really didn't want to die.  Then he fell limp and was lolling around like a marionette with its strings cut.
Whatever.  I'm getting all sentimental and crap.  Hopefully I'll have more balls when its my turn to kill cats.

Last night, while cleaning my room (a feat i have neglected for a few months too many) I came across some paper dolls I made in second/third grade.  Like pre-movie harry potter thingies, a few gel-pen dragons, freaky cat-people, and bad guys (some as articulately named as "mrs dude," "death moss" and "pee-head").  They're adorably disproportionate, and I spent the rest of the night in an age-regressed state, fiddling around with the deformed distractions.  
My room is still a mess and I intend to do absolutely nothing about it.

I'm tempted to make myself some more paper dolls.  The freaky cat people look entertaining.

So last year I decided I was going to write a "novel."  I had a vague conception of plot and characters and proceeded to execute this brilliant agenda for about four months.  Then, shortly after starting chapter seven, I decided I hated the whole piece of crap and was going to start over.  So, for the past two months I have been puzzling through the choreography of a brand new chapter one.
BLARGH!  PLOT!  SUCKS!  ELBOW!

Well mum's in the hospital again.  And my plants are dying.  Or at least my [insert name here] plant is.  I refuse to reveal its name because that would be admitting that I actually name my plants.

I had this trippy dream the other night.  You know rat kings?  This had one, but instead of rats, it was people. and they were all melted and fused together.  Subliminal orgy dream?  Maybe a premonition of eternal chastity.  Whatever, it was nasty.

It's good there were people here when mum left, otherwise I wouldn't have been able to maintain any kind of composure.  I can be disgustingly good at the "oh, everything's fine, don't worry" shit.  Anyway, grandma blabbed it to a bunch of people and now we're getting care packages.  It's rather embarassing.

Anyone who hasn't seen Lost Boys should.  Now.

Same goes for the Shawshank Redemption.

Happy Easter, by the way.