This journal has nothing to do with anything.

I'm looking into getting a new laptop, but I don't know where to start. Hmm, what would be the best for what I'm looking for? Basically, it's a desktop replacement with the capacity for HUGE programs. I'll probably need a big ol' 6GB memory with a decent graphics card and a solid build. This, plus a fast processing speed. Knowing me, if I design a nice little scene in Maya or 3D Studio only for the sucker to freeze up on the render, I'll probably punt it through my bedroom window and head straight for the nearest whiskey bar.

Oh, don't ask why.

...

I'm having another one of my weird crushes. Ready for this? It's John Oliver. The Daily Show correspondent turned "Community" costar. I know, I know. Don't judge me. I really liked the "Community" pilot, too. Hope the show does well.

I'm not sure what it was that made me start looking at Oliver. In all likelihood, this is just another one of my obsessions of the week and before too long I'll just go back to thinking he's a funny guy. A funny guy with an accent ..that...

Oh! That reminds me! I'm going to London next month! Yay me! The only drawback is that I won't be as "fixed" as I would like, the first time in a new country.

...Ok, "fixed" is definitely the wrong word. I suppose "repaired" is a little more gentle. I suppose it still takes a little explaining. To put it simply, I have the worst case of Ugly Duckling Syndrome of anyone I know. I have always viewed myself as being tragically ugly; tragic, in that I would apparently be stunningly beautiful if I could get everything lined up. All my life, people have been telling me I was Pretty*. That asterisk is usually phrased "Pretty but" or "Pretty if." As in, "You know, you're very pretty but you need to lose some weight." Or, "You'd be so pretty if you had your teeth capped." Or, "You'd be so pretty if you wore your hair differently." And on it goes, yadda yadda yadda. So, by the time I was 15, I had a list of about two dozen things I needed to fix before I could call myself pretty with any confidence. Without an asterisk. No qualifications.

Now that I'm all grown up, as it were, a lot of things are falling into place on their own. The things you'd expect--the growth and development in taste concerning the fashions that work for me, a proper interest in those ridiculous grooming practices known to Western women, and the cessation of the typical embarrassing physical malaise associated with the late stages of puberty--are all working in tandem with the steps I myself am taking to reach my goals. The weight is dropping. The hair is growing. The people skills are being exercised. And, the most important part, I've been approved for Invisalign braces and should have a perfect smile by November of next year. FINALLY!

There are some things I know that are just never going to be "fixed." I'll always be top tall, unless they come up with a significantly less terrifying procedure to add about three inches to my leg length. I'm not interested in rhinoplasty to straighten that bend in my nose (God only knows why that's even there in the first place). My eyes are always going to be too big for my face. Things are always going to be a little asymmetrical. I'll never be as pretty as people seem to think I'd be if everything matched my mother.

But seriously. One year from now, I'm going to be forty pounds lighter with waist-length blonde hair, no glasses and a perfect smile. I'm going to be unjustifiably hot. There's no excuse for me.

Which reminds me. Mom. Her 52nd birthday will be October 3rd. I'm going to be across the Pond until the 2nd, and one of the places I'll visit is Ireland. My mother's fondest fantasy was to visit Ireland, and she never made it. So there will be MUCH picture-taking.

Twas brillig at the slithey--My GOODNESS I'm getting discombobulated. I must be getting tired. What time is it? ...2 a.m. Yup. I'm tired.

GOOD NIGHT SEATTLE, WE LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is a familiar feeling. Not a very good one, either. I'm back in that indifferent mode that got me into so much trouble last year. I think it happens when I get stressed. They say that in times of panic, everyone reacts one of two ways--the good ol' Fight or Flight theory. That's not entirely true. My reflex seems to be Wait It Out. My brain wants to hibernate until everything blows over. This, of course, actually makes everything so much worse. When I shut down like this, life continues to dissolve around me, and when I think about all the work I have to do to get myself back on track it only makes it worse.

I read somewhere that the top 50 stressors in life can be ranked and numbered so you can calculate your overall stress level. I hate the word "Stress." It seems so... 90s Oprah special. Doesn't it? I thought it was established by now that /everyone/ is stressed. Since when is this news? In looking at this list, the top 10 stressors for someone my age are:

1.) Death of a parent
2.) Moving out of parent's home
3.) Changing cities
4.) Divorce of parents
5.) Imprisonment of parent
6.) Environment change (renovation, moving from apartment to apartment)
7.) Moving back in with parent
8.) Change in job
9.) Change in social circle
10.) Change in schools

Check. Check. Check. Nope. Nope. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check.

All within the last three years.

.......Soooooo..... I'm supposed to be even more "stressed" than normal? Well that helps, actually. That makes me feel a little better. At least I know I'm not freaking out for no reason. I'd just like very much to freak out in a different direction. It would be great if I could stop sleeping 12 or 14 hours per day. I'm at the point in my education where the classes are actually starting to matter, and my performance is falling. I have missed my "Drawing for Animation" class twice. We have only met five times. Drawing for animation is what I want to *DO* for a living, goddamn it! This, of all things, should motivate me.

You go to school to develop the skills needed to get the job you want. While in school, you take on one, two, three part-time jobs to support yourself. These jobs get in the way of your school work. Your grades suffer, and by the time you graduate, the only thing you're qualified to do is keep working the jobs you had to put yourself through the school you attended for the express purpose of avoiding the jobs you took to put yourself through school! :anger:

...That was a very complicated sentence but I hope I made my point.

This is not good. This could be part of the reason my weight is dropping so fast. My goal is 2 pounds per week. That's healthy. That's perfect. I went from 202 to 195 since July 30th. Same thing happened last June.

Well, I might be stressed. My life might be going to Hell in a hand basket. My grades might be slipping and my job might be on the rocks. But at least I'll be thin.

Been almost half a decade since the last time I updated my DA journal. Isn't it scary how time flies by?

I'm beginning to settle into life in Nashville. Those nightmares are still bothering me, almost every night. Last night's stuck with me all day long and I'm still shaken from it. There are some things you never get used to.

The diet's going well. Six pounds in three weeks, woot woot! But I wouldn't get too excited just yet. Sometimes it feels like I've lost the same five pounds a hundred times. I'm a candy bar away from shooting right back up to where I was. I'm definitely coming out of a plateau. I should start keeping a photo record, so those watching at home can keep track of the progress. --As if anyone is watching.

Question of the day: Why has no one invented a machine to fold your laundry for you? I don't mind loading, unloading, running, or maintaining the washer and dryer; I look at that basket of still-warm socks and shirts and just want to scream.

OK, I've got a bunch of ideas and not a lot of time, so I need some opinions on which pieces I should start on. I've got the rough sketches in my doodlepad, but which of the following are worth spending Bristol on?

1.) "Baby Heroes":
a. Baby Batman as a little phantom-like creature
b. Baby Superman first learning to fly
c. Baby Wonderwoman pouting and saying "Boys don't play fair!"
d. Baby Gambit playing Uno
e. Baby Wolverine as a giant furball with a Binkie.
f. Baby Harry Potter welling up with big baby tears and saying "But I don't WANT to be a hero!"

2.) Gambit specials:
a.) Extreme close-up of Gambit's face in a Mardi Gras mask, the eyeholes black except for two glowing red dots
b.) Exrtreme close-up of Gambit's face as he removes the Mardi Gras mask, the lower half of his face concealed, but his eyes fully visible
c.) Gambit leaning against a streetlight, grinning and holding out a handful of Mardi Gras beads.
(I could finish any of these by Mardi Gras, of course, but not all of them)

3.) Elemental faries/sprites/spirits