A new addiction

I belong to a forum that was created for the game Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas, but it has other topics where you can just rant and debate like crazy (which is the reason I still check it) In someone's signature, I saw a 350x20 image that had the Eagles logo on one side, "Philadelphia Eagles Fan" on the other in a micro font, and it had stripes and a half-elliptical light area. I wondered what it was. Then I finally found out: UserBars. There's a website chock full of 'em here: http://www.userbars.org

Here's a link to the ones I've made: http://www.userbars.org/search.htm?search_user=Artifex

Quick note: The Livestrong, John Sykes, Whitesnake, Beck's, and Dale Jr. bars were by request. Not to say I don't support the Livestrong movement or like Whitesnake, but I don't drink Beck's and I can't stand Jr.

Wishing for acceptance

This is actually an old issue from this past Christmas.

By the one or two references I've made in previous posts and some of the links in my "other" section, and especially if you know me well enough, it's probably apparent that I'm a Pagan. I can tell that my mom, however, doesn't quite approve of it. I don't have anything against her disapproval, it is after all her opinion. I just don't like how she keeps it from me.

There was one time when the topic came up and she said "You don't believe in Jesus? But we're a Christian family! How can you celebrate Christmas with us?" but left it at that. Great. I'm being treated like a rebellious family-seperatist I thought. I hoped with all my heart that nothing controversial would happen on Christmas. Luckily, the closest anyone came to questioning my beliefs was my Aunt asked me if the pentagram pendant I was wearing was a Celtic symbol.

The other time it came up was when we were making holiday cookies.

[off-topic]
Yes, I called it "holiday". I don't know why so many Christians get so uptight when the time between Thanksgiving and New Year's Day is called the holidays. It's not like it's one specific day. If I or another person wishes "happy holidays" to someone and they retort with "No, it's Christmas Come on, people" (actual quote from someone in my family) I'd take that as an insult to my sincerity. "Fine, may your holidays be unhappy, you ungrateful antisecularist" is what comes to mind when I want to respond. If they don't want me to wish them happiness for the rest of the year and instead want only one holiday to be acknowledged, then Blessed Yule to them all. Ugh.

[back on topic]
Anyway, I made a circle-shaped cookie and drew a pentagram on it. My mom didn't see, but my stepdad did when they came out of the oven. "Oh, you... drew a pentagram on here," he said in a "you ruined the cookie" tone of voice, "are you Pagan?" When I told him I was, his tone changed to a more interested one. "Ah. Have you done any rituals yet?" I told him no (a lie, I've done 5; one for every solstice and equinox in 2005, plus Lughnasadh.) My mom started huffing like she does when she's upset. My stepdad thought it was because she felt rushed to get the cookies done, but I think I know why she was upset. She didn't approve of my Paganism. Later that day, I could hear her bawling her eyes out in the shower. It was heart-wrenching. To think that being myself made my mom cry. I hope to all the powers out there that she was just frazzled because of the rush to get cookies done. I couldn't live knowing that I was the cause of her desperate crying.

All I ask is that she open her thoughts up to me. Tell me what she truly thinks about my religious choice. I'd come to her myself, but I don't want her to think I'm seeing if I'm rebellious enough. I don't care if she doesn't like my choice one bit, that's her opinion. I just need her to be open and honest with me.

The great Move-Out is imminent

I'll be blunt. My stepdad is an asshole when it comes to showing me why I should or shouldn't do certain things. I've only left the TV on maybe once or twice overnight by accident (I forget to set the timer) and he goes ballistic on me telling me if it happens again, he'll make me pay part (maybe all, he didn't say) of the electricity bill. What the FUCK? Oh I'm so sorry, Mr. Doesn't-Like-Absent-Minded-People. I won't accidentally leave the TV on again.

But that's not what made me write this entry. My stepdad has a history of entering my room when I'm not there. I mean, I guess I can understand since it's his house and so every room is essentially his... but come on. What if I have a surprise for him too big for my closet? He'd walk in and BOOM! Surprise ruined. What took the cake is that tonight he pulled me aside and asked me "what my problem is." Now I know I do tend to let my room get a little messy. But it's not like I have dirty clothes everywhere and you can't find anything. Compared to some rooms I've seen, the messiest my room has gotten is pretty damn clean. So anyway, I wanted badly to retort with "Actually, that's your problem. I don't care about the condition of my room as long as I can find stuff and move around in it without stepping on stuff" But I know him well and he'd make my life worse somehow. He made me an ultimatum this time: If he walks into my room again and finds it messy, he'll start throwing my stuff out. THROWING MY FUCKING PROPERTY IN THE FUCKING TRASH.

Well I believe it's now time to spite him and show him that I'm not just a complacent absent-minded irresponsible little shit who got engaged and "will probably expect Meranda to clean up after me." Bollocks. I'm gonna pack all my stuff into a Public Storage place. I might even tell him "Is that clean enough for you? Look, you can even see the floor! And look, the closet's clean too!" Besides, there's no way in hell I'm gonna let him touch any of my possessions. Something that appears to be garbage to him might mean something to me (like the pine-needle ring Meranda gave me or my acorn collection) Hell, he might not even prioritize. He might throw away anything. Like any of my books, Pagan tools, or *cringe* art stuff. But I swear, if I, as an absent-minded (more like apathetic) person who has come to understand that who gives a flying fuck if my room is messy, fail to remember to keep my room spotless, that asshole better not touch a thing that relates to Meranda. If he does, I am gone. No questions asked. I can get new Pagan stuff, I can buy new books and art supplies, but you can not replace loving memories. He has earned himself a place on my mental trophy shelf of "Worst Assholes In My Life"


P.S. Anyone who can afford to buy a BMW has no right to bitch about the cost of anything, namely electricity bills.

I am myself plus one.

It's something that's been building up inside me for the last year and 2 months, but it finally came out today. I took Meranda to our favourite Pagan Rite clearing in the forest behind Lake Waterford Park and I popped the question. In Gaelic.

Now, she had already told me she'd say yes if I asked her, but it's not quite official until I ask her. There was no ring. Why? Because we're both unconventional enough to understand that the ring is for show. There's no binding power in it. It's all symbolic, and it was a relative luxury we could do without. However, while walking through the park, she made us a set of pine-needle rings just out of principle. I couldn't say anything because it was just so perfect. We broke tradition, I asked in one of our favourite spots, she said yes, and now she made rings (more personal) out of pine needles (Not just a natural object, but a representative of the Earth element, the one I feel most in tune with.)

I am more complete than I ever was. Blessed be me Bonny Lass.

It's only in my head...

If only part of my skills in hand-eye coordination could be allotted to hand-mind coordination. I've got so many ideas in my head for what characters, places, and events look like for tons of different genres. I have a wealth of images of Adrynaic locales and citizens (like Mynlar) and postmodern stuff like Brad J and his stories. The only problem is getting those ideas from my head to a piece of paper. In any form. It's probably my worry that I wont do any of my ideas justice. They're so vivid in my head that it seems only a mind, not a hand, can create them.

I wish there were an easier way to get them out. I'm not good enough at people to do them justice, I'm not good enough drawing Manga style to do my story ideas, and forget drawing places. Oh well, hopefully with practice I can get it all out of my head finally.