I bought a recent Courtney Crumrin book at my comic book store, despite telling myself I would buy nothing 'cause the money is tight and all. Damn my impulsiveness. It's "The Fire Thief". Of course, as soon as I finished reading it all I wanted to do was pick up pencil and paper and sketch a bunch. I know I don't have the greatest talent, but there's something quite wonderfully simplistic about just letting yourself get into sketching and let all other thoughts leave the head. It's not as strong as the writing is with me, but it is pretty up there.

The author of Courtney Crumrin went to school with my mom and her latest husband. I find that factoid a little strange sometimes. I haven't told my sister even though she adores the work, because she'd likely get too excited, and I wouldn't want to tell her "I haven't even seen the dude..."

Anywho...

I fell down the stairs again today. That would be the forth time in three weeks. I think I hurt my butt-bone. Ha ha. I also hung out with the neighbor who has the huge rotweiler because I haven't been around a dog in too long. I love dogs. I hated sitting on the grass because my back was hurting so much, but I managed. My cat was also having a hay-day, rubbing up against the puppy (all dogs are puppies) and rolling on his back, batting playfully at her floppy ears. I love dogs, but my cats adores them. Wants to dominate them and be king of the dog kingdom. I've promised him a puppy when I get the financial schematics from publishing (If I ever do... cross your fingers).

Speaking of the writing, or thinking of it, I've figured out that I rushed the ending. I went from writing in that nice leather journal to writing on the computer. Something about the glare of computer light is far too artificial, a little too harsh on my eyes. Plus I type like a super-hero... if a super-hero's power was typing (blatant Angel reference). It does not allow me the time to step back (mentally) from my work, breathe, and figure out the last bit of the story. So after finals week I'll be sitting back down on the porch outside, lighting those numerous candles (hopeing the wind isn't up) and get back to the hand-writing as I should have done in the first place. I'm a bad person.

I know I've said (and thought) this so many times, and it's getting tedious, but I really think that I have something this time. I feel right about it. Not nervous or jittery or scared as I've always been before. I realize I made a mistake with the ending but I'm still not stressing about it. I know what needs to be done and I'll do whatever I have to in order to finish it.

Speaking of finals week.... I really need to get studying. I'm on here spewing because I've already talked my fathers ear off today. I think I'm just putting things off a little too much. I feel weird and off-center. My uncle has re-appeared from his time in "the cave" and he was hanging out here for about four days straight. After weeks of solitude, and so close to finals, all I wanted was some alone time, and yet there he was. Day after day, night after night. I told my dad about it and he likened to his own experience. He said, "Whenever someone is around me when I'm working, I'm immanently aware that I may be interrupted at any moment."

That is EXACTLY the problem I have. I don't even want to start on something, give my full attention to it, because I'm worried about 'playing host'. All I wanted was to scream at my uncle to go away. I didn't, of course, because I'm a nice person. But he should be working on the house boat and getting it ready to sell. If he calls me again tonight to come over, I'll have a problem. Have you ever just needed to recover from someone's stay over at your house? That's what I've been doing the last few hours. I read the Courtney Crumrin comic, I ate lunch, I had an hours draw and watched that show "Scrubs". I walked my cat, ran into the neighbor with the rotweiler, and managed to alleviate some of my general burden onto her. I've also polished and cleaned my kitchen to a bright shine, including the floors--something I've been avoiding for about three or four weeks. Now I'm finally settling down in my head and the worst thing would be to get off the phone here (dialup still, I'm such a dinosaur) and have someone call, wanting to talk or hang out.

Ah, and I've also popped open a bottle of Sierra Nevada. That's also helping.

....

I've also come to a conclusion with J. I know that she is mad at me for many reasons. I can understand some of them, but I will not take the blame for all of her life problems. I'm tired of being the fall guy--take responsibility for your own actions, you know? I've figured that even if I want her back in my life, it's going to be a slow process... I don't want to jump into anything. Most of all I want to push off this responsibility that she has given me for things that I had no say in. She says she went to parties, got very wasted and fucked up by people because I left for California. I want to ask her, "What was I supposed to do? Missouri... I'd still be flipping burgers." At least here I have my own place, and school, and now a novel that I hope to publish. I'm getting in on the ground floor of my fathers company, I'm beginning to make websites for my use, my employers use and my fathers use. Life is beginning to pan out after a long, downward spiral kind of journey. She was there the day I got kicked out, she saw what had happened, yet all she could think of was "you left". Of course I did. What did Missouri have that California does not have? And more.

OK... so I'll save that whole bit for later. I hate relationship issues. They're so bloody ridiculous, and they make you seem immature no matter what your age. I think it's the only situation that, in unison, people act like they are children.

So, that's all. Toodles,

-Della Drago-