Like Really Soupy Wet Sand

Hello, sweet blog readers.

I am having a very slow time waking up today. I have a seasonal headache. Well, it may be described more as a right-behind-the-eyes ache. My eyes are also dry, I think. They definitely kind of wish I would stop looking with them and just close my eyes for a while again instead. The good news is that these are my only physical complaints.

I am still in the midst of a thousand and one projects. I have started making very cute small sculptures out of a product called Sculpey and then painting them in the ways I like best.

Recently, I have been drawing pictures of the staff writers for the Swankpuppy. Yes, that IS still on its way. It just turns out that creating a website takes longer than we ever expected when everyone involved with it has dozens of other things that they must do. However, once it goes public (it won't be completely finished by then, but it will be close) we will at least be motivated to work on it more regularly. I promise. We are all excited for its opening.

Also, I am still working on the ideas and content for amandawood.net . I had an idea a month or two ago and then like a week ago I scrapped all of that and had this inspiration for a completely different look. I think I had a dream about it that changed my mind.

Speaking of dreams, are any of you educated on them? I only know a very little about sleep/dream patterns and such, but I realized this morning that I almost always wake up in the morning while I am still dreaming. I can remember the dreams because it is literally like... Like when you are watching a television show and are deeply immersed in it and then suddenly your friend switches the channel to something completely different. Only the teevee program was your dream, and the switch of the channel is you opening your eyes, and the new, completely different, show is you being awake and looking at your room. It doesn't seem to have a smooth transition at all.

On top of that, I dream at a constant rate. I think I have way more than three dreams every night. Or at the very least, they are uncommonly long, detailed, and pretty exhausting. And I have dreams about really weird slimy mushrooms either growing off of me, or being found under my skin. They really hurt when I dream-remove them. Once, when I was like seven years old, I pulled off a mushroom it hurt so much that it made me wake up and when I looked at the place it was in my dream, there was a really old circular scar. WHAT'S THAT ABOUT?

So, yeah, I think part of my being constantly tired is just all the dreams I have. But they are generally so interesting that I don't want to make them stop.

Recovering

Yes, I start this blog entry off with a random image of unknown origin. OMGJeremy sent it to me a few minutes ago, and I am still cursing his name.

Today is the first day in a long while that I have felt motivated to do more than sit on the couch and sigh all day long. You see, people often think that a kid like me has got to be powerfully unproductive, lazy, and et cetera, all because I do not have a regular job working for THE MAN and degrading myself by catering to asshole customers who are such worthless monsters that they feel they must lord over any business's employees in some strange master/slave situation. I have never in my life worked, but I have seen plenty of other people act that way towards workers in places that I have been. I am angered every time. So, I figure that if I ever happened to be employed and in that situation, my priorities would shift very quickly from "trying to make ends meet" to "stabbing that bitch right in the neck." Although, I suspect that the priority of "keeping out of jail" might cause me to shift more towards "being verbally threatening and getting fired." That isn't so bad.

Wait. What I was trying to say is that, even though I don't care to go out of my house and work for bosses and people like that, I generally am a pretty productive person. I do that art stuff, articles, comics, and a bunch of other things that don't really generate a cashflow, but they do take time and energy, and I usually feel pleased once I have completed whatever project.

But for the past week or two, I was in a very low energy period. And when I am uninspired, I'd rather do nothing at all because I fear that the work I produce will be just horrid looking. And, I'm pretty sure even if it looked fine, I'd still hate it.

So I was in this blah stage and then my friend Mandy, from San Diego, (yes, the Mandy of OMG Forum Fame - a legend, actually, since she hasn't been there in over 4 years, yet she is still remembered fondly... Actually I think she was on the People Page at one point long ago too. Oh! I know, we also link to her "Sappymoosetree" business site on OMGJ) - err, yes - SHE visited for a few days.

That was rather eventful. We thrift-shopped, she taught me how to make a sock lemur, while she made a sock octopus for me, and I managed to break two different glasses within the same 12 hour span. "How many glasses must I break?!" I shouted. Hard times. Also, we went to some Jersey Cattle Dairy Farm just north of Yellow Springs, Ohio. That was peculiar. And I met my sixteenth Internet Person, Mandy's friend from Dayton, Jay, who was a nice fellow.

That's right. SIXTEEN Internet People. I have been starting to get worried lately, meeting new interpeople. I fear that my odds are getting worse for actually surviving these meetings. They always speak of the dangers of meeting these strangers from the Internet. The murders, rapes, abductions, white slavery, forced prostitutions, general creepiness, and so on. So far, these last sixteen have been unusually nice and pleasant. BUT WHAT ABOUT THE SEVENTEENTH PERSON?! I'll start dreading now, okay.

Now is the part where I make comments about the other OMGJ Saff Writers:

It seems that Jeremy is being back to his usual self, after having had a guest of his own for a week there. I forgot to look at his blog to see if he mentioned her by name or description yet or not. But she DID call him her "babybear" and we must never let him forget this.

XV appears to be slightly more high-strung than usual. I think I have known him on the Internet for a few years now, at least, and I can say that I had never noticed him behaving strangely during the month of April. But he might have been off the face of the planet, I guess, without my noticing. I'd give him some sort of sympathy but I don't care to have his fingers tear out my brain or whatever he said he'd do to anyone who cared. But somehow, I don't think he'd like it if everyone was the opposite and callously uncaring and spitting on him or whatever. This is why I am glad sometimes that I am hugely awkward around any emotional display from anyone, and more often than not just keep quiet and try to distract myself or that person. Or like, leave the room as quickly as possible.

Mark's child plays in dogshit. I do not know how he could not have known that the canine diarrhea was, in fact, canine diarrhea. That shit has a distinctive poopy smell, you know. Mark, have you failed as a parent?

Trev is in Tel Aviv for a week or two or three and may or may not blog about it or write an article about it upon his return. He seems to enjoy doing insanely interesting things, promise to write about it, but then only telling a few people about it on an instant message program. Hopefully his anonymous groupie will look at my blog, see this explanation, and relax somewhat.

Jeremy P is no longer on this planet.

There. I think I prefer talking about other people more than myself sometimes.

I may have more to say, but I know this blog entry is rambly and confused sounding enough to last us at least a few days, right?