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I lost the beads I was going to use for the two crocheted necklaces. (I think it's safe to say in *this* venue that I got commissioned to make a second one, and the second one is going more smoothly than the first one in all respects so far.)

Since the replacement beads included ones shipped from Czechoslovakia, I've been nervous that I won't be able to finish on time. (Which I still probably won't, but I can make An Effort now.)

The last of the replacement beads arrived today, and I am very happy with this. Will I get cracking on it? Well, probably not today.

Additionally, it's been a not as terrible as usual leg day. Hooray for physical therapy (and remembering to do it), and hooray for pain meds. (Yesterday I completely spaced my pain meds until bedtime. Surprised Pikachu was surprised at how horrible a leg day it was.)

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my day

hera

There are few things as satisfying as repotting a plant, setting it up, and having it happy in the new spot with a dedicated light. He got slightly rootbound, so we'll see if he's happier in a larger container - he's a pineapple, so first time handling something quite this size, this prickly, and this delicate. It's like they aren't keen to live in cold places or something! But he was doing well before getting bound, so I believe in him.

Still have some art to work through, and then I can shove my computer into the new tower with the new graphics card. I am ~EXCITED~. Also a little wryly amused to wonder if people think I now have a bizarre fetish for lesbians bullying people, because this is every picture in this fucking art series. My bffle thinks it is fucking hilarious, though, and I'm now getting to draw another friends' character as well, so I'm happy if they're happy.

And hey, I finally had to learn to draw breasts! Tearfully. With powerpoint explanations, and said friend giving a lecture with pictures while feverish on how breasts look in a fucking corset on top of it all. People keep asking me if I've ever seen breasts irl before, and it's like: look at me, and look deep in your hearts, and ask yourself how many women I have ever paid attention to naked, you daft widgets. Or stared at pensively in public to analyse the weight and fucking heft of the things.

My friends are very silly, and very sweet, and I enjoy them a lot.

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dane is good at people

hera

I'm in such a good mood today.

But I am coming to the terrible realisation that perhaps lemon soap + smoked vanilla lotion + blueberry body oil + Miskatonic fucking University creates a rather confusing combination for a personal scent. I refuse to change anything, but people can't seem to decide between "you smell like a bookstore!" and "you smell like a slightly suspicious bakery".

(The correct decision is "I have realised sniffing my peers to pick up the exact notes of their scent is kind of weird, actually", but the things we tolerate to live in a society!)

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general

hera

Despite this hell year, there has been character growth! I'm actually accepting gifts from people without feeling like a trapped cat over it. It is a little silly to be proud of, all things considered. But I've spent a lot of the last few months.. trying very hard not to think about a lot of things, and sort of brewing on everything subconsciously as a result.

With somewhat good results.

It is interesting to think on past relationships and finally have the last bit of nostalgic glaze worn away. Abusive behaviour is overt and glaring in my thirties! Before that, it was very easy to overlook and handwave due to the way I was raised. "If someone isn't threatening actual harm against you, it's not worth reacting to" was my motto, which kept me functional and the bills paid and everything done, but man.

No wonder I was constantly getting stress eczema, and heart palpitations, and constant fucking flareups of everything and anything. I used to tell people that if I got too angry or too upset, I'd puke, so I just learned to be chill as a result.. which was, in hindsight, an absolutely insane thing to say. It turns out if I am not constantly in a state of high stress, the slightest provocation won't set off adrenaline enough to get me shaking and puking.

Larger provocations still get me shaking like a leaf, but that is because, as doctors keep telling my sister, we fucking suck at handling adrenaline. We are not a bloodline meant to fight bears. Thank god we're office workers instead.

Anyway, almost done with all the holiday pics for the bestie, so I'm pleased. DND might start up again this week, which will also be nice, and I've got almost all of my Christmas shopping done, so. Also have most of my wedding shopping done! It is very early to have just bought an outfit, but I am not a party person. Better to just get as much out of the way as possible now, so that I can focus on helping to minimise stress with the rest.

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general

drwho

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wolffyluna

Before I forget: If I am incommunicado, or something odd happens to my account on December 10th, do not worry! I will be alive (...inshallah?), just potentially fighting Australia's incoming under-16 social media ban.

hera

Doing my annual 4-6 gift set of art for the biffle this year, and man.

Every woman I know and am fond of is attracted to women! It was not at all intentional, but I do not appeal to nor particularly get along with heterosexual women. (This is ironic after years of wailing that I get hit on by lesbians too much, but younger Mar was a daft widget and I accept that is the no-shit consequence of only interacting with gay and bisexual women.)

This is basically never a problem.. until I'm drawing women for my friends, and then I realise, inch by inch, that our sense of aesthetics are entirely different. This is not helped by the fact everyone loves hyper-feminine women, and I like pretty-but-masculine / hypermasculine women. But every single picture this year has had me warbling that it's just not very PRETTY, and the cream of the crop is a picture that involves both women looking up, with the camera at a low angle.

Me: this is hideous!
Every fucking woman I know: this is actually a very attractive, and perhaps even provocative, pose? such art! such majesty! you gotta keep it!

My art style is semi-realistic, but very stylised. This works out in my favour, because there's no fucking way you would not be seeing each and every hair in these womens' nostrils at this point of view, or every second chin they do not have, or every weird fold omnipresent in skin that is usually visually smoothed and ignored by virtue of NOT LOOKING AT THEM FROM THE GROUND UP..

I'm on the last fxf picture, and then I'll be doing the Platonic Male Trio, which I will be free to select an angle I find personally flattering. Despite my cauterwailing, I'm not too put-off by the poses selected on the previous pictures, even the latest. It's just one of those really, really baffling differences that occasionally pops up and makes me remember: oh, yes, the human experience is constantly speaking a slightly different metaphorical language than your peers, and occasionally realising that everyone else knows a series of words that you don't even have a concept for.

Like BEING ABLE TO SEE UP PEOPLES NOSES IN PICTURES BEING GOOD. AAAAAAAAAAAAA

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general

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