WonkyLemur's mental randomness.

The Lemur's Yule List

It's that time of year again, with people asking me what I want for Christmas. Honestly, there isn't a lot--my life is good and I'm content.

Mainly, I encourage you to give to these organizations:

Cup of Joe for a Joe...cups of coffee and reminders of home for deployed servicemen and -women

Pink Slipper Project...help by making slippers, donating materials, or sending stamps

Kitty Angels or the ASPCA...almost all of my furbabies are rescues

 

Or, if you absolutely need to get me something, I dig Teavana, Barnes & Noble, and have a wish list up at Dick Blick's Art Materials.

 

Thanks for looking, and have a safe and happy holiday season!

xoxo

~WL

Oh hey, a blog post!

So hey, it's been a while! Sorry for the radio silence, but:

• I don't like to bitch on the Internet, especially when the people I'm bitching about could see it.
• Struggling with depression, and I'm very private. Also, what do you care, right?
• Busy busy busy.


I'd really wanted to get my landscaping cleaned up this year, but my photosensitivity has complicated that. So I tell people that I leave the weeds in because the roots hold the topsoil. I do have a couple of grow beds in the veggie garden set up, though, and the beans, cukes, and beets are looking very good. Yay!

The project to make our Ikea bookshelves look like Tetris is coming along nicely. I'll have to post pictures soon, because it really just amuses the hell out of me.

I now officially have a shitload of pets. Still the three cats, Osiris, Mina, and Mystery. Add to that the permanent adoption of formerly fostered hedgehog Dr. Gordon. I adopted a second lady rat from the Humane Society early this month, which is funny because I adopted my other girl *last* July. I'll be putting them in the same cage this week once the cages are deilivered. There's been some scuffles but no difficulties, so I think they'll be fine. Penny, the new girl, is so sweet. Well, all ratties are. I'm winning her over with treats and tummy scritches, and she's warming up to me much faster than Fanny did. I ended up bringing home two little boys (2 months) a little less than a week ago. Hershey is definitely the head guy, and is much, much braver than his brother. He was taking papaya from my fingers the day after I brought them home and loves to scamper all over me when I take him out for cuddles. Marshmallow (aka "PoopPoop") is much more timid. He won't take treats from me yet, and when I pick him up he prefers to curl up behind my neck under my ponytail and hide out. He seems to like it when I'm holding his brother as well, so I've been doing that. Bucks can get up to 2 pounds, so I'll have to take pictures of them now while they're fuzzy and smaller than my hand.

I haven't been doing any art lately, although I have been quilting. My studio is just in too much turmoil right now to be a good working environment. I see all these artists with messy work areas and I just don't know how they do it!

Even though I'm more than busy enough taking care of the house and my zoo, I've been thinking about trying to get back into the workforce. I would like a new car, some of my own money, and to get out of the house. I've been hesitant, because I would most likely only be able to get some shit retail job and I've had quite enough of that. I'm tremendously grateful that it's a matter of wanting, not needing--believe me. It's been hard for me, though, being entirely dependent on my husband for money. He is completely open-handed and trusts me to not be stupid with our money--and he does always call it "our" money--but sometimes I still feel like a load (even though I work my ass off). I keep thinking that I need to sell some original art and prints and some quilts and all that, but I still can't quite believe that anyone would want it so I don't go there. Plus I feel that the market for homey crafts and art is pretty saturated right now, so what do I have to offer that's different? We'll see.

This post has gotten long enough, and I need some vittles. And more tea (thanks, insomnia). I'll try not to wait 8 months to post again. :)

 

 

 

Because YOU demanded it!

WonkyLemur's New England Webcomics Weekend Post!

Okay, so this was demanded by absolutely no one. Whatever.

Anyway.

Last Saturday my husband and I trekked alllll the way to Easthampton, MA for NEWW.  Exciting!  I was really looking forward to meeting some of my favorite artists, and nervous that I was going to make a complete ass of myself because I am intensely socially inept.  Luckily for me, many webcomic artists are also shy and socially inept.  The folks were all very nice--I got a hug from my doppelganger Sara McHenry, discussed cat flatulence with Danielle Corsetto, did not get stabbed by Jeph Jacques, and made John Allison laugh talking about turning my livingroom shelves into a giant Tetris game.  I also got to hang out with my Baby Brother Billy Barth and some friends on Saturday, which was awesome.

The swag:

Here we are in a handbasket...

I usually stay away from talking about these things, because religion and politics are very, very hot buttons with people--but this just blows my mind.

So I'll say this right now, proudly, defiantly: I do not hate Muslims.  I do not hate Islam, nor do I believe that Islam is our enemy.  At its base Islam is a religion of peace, as are they all.  Yes, some people have completely and utterly missed the boat and choose to interpret it in a way that was quite unlikely to have been intended--as with all religions.  It is the fanatics, not the religion, that are the problem.

I can not think of many things more hateful and CHILDISH than burning the Koran. WTF is wrong with you people???  Is this how you want to remember and honor the people who lost their lives in the September 11th attacks?  Really??  With an ignorant act of hatred and intolerance?  And just as bad are the idiots rioting and burning this asshat in effigy.

This escalation is ridiculous.  It needs to end someplace.  "But they started it!!" should remain in the kindergarten play yard, people.  Grow up.  Be bigger than that.  Turn the other cheek, if you will.

I do not claim to know the mind of God.  I consider that to be a very blasphemous attitude, actually. 

But I can't imagine that God can look upon any of this and do anything other than weep.

The days are shortening, the hedgehogs are migrating...

...summer is nearing its end.

On Friday I'll be bringing Gordon back to his momma.  I won't lie to you--this makes me sad.  While I still don't feel that I would ever choose one as a pet for myself, he is adorable and very fun to watch, and we've quite gotten used to him being here.  I won't really miss scrubbing his wheel, though, and I'm sure Jeff will be happy to have his computer room back as his very own.  Without a space heater constantly making the room around 80 degrees.

Luffs to you, little Stinky McGrumperson!

Elizabeth 3.1?

I'm trying to sew some slippers today, for The Pink Slipper Project, because working on the house has kept me from it for too long.  I've been getting frustrated, because I just don't have the table space to comfortably work with fabric.  One of my tables currently has a large hedgehog enclosure on it, true, but the rest is just...crap.

I've dreamed for years of being able to empty my storage unit and have all of my possessions actually within my possession, but now that I have them none of them seem to be relevant any longer.  Things that I was keeping for an apartment/home that I never got to have.  Things that I've just plain outgrown, because they were packed away when I was in my early 20s and I'm now in my mid-30s.  I spent my 20s either homeless or in a single room, so all of these things were put away with dreams of Someday.  Now, Someday is here--sort of--but none of this is of any use to me.

I've been spending the last couple of weeks drudging through the original Dragonlance: Chronicles books.  I still tear up about Sturm and Flint (even though I've read the series several times), but in general I didn't actually enjoy them.  I had to work to get through them.  I'm reading the Legends trilogy now, and...I kinda hate it.  The writing is bad and the character portrayals are juvenile and naive.  I love the Lost Chronicles, the War of Souls, the Dark Disciple.  Love them.  But the early stuff?  The stuff not even written by Weis and Hickman?  I'm tempted to use it for bedding for my rat.

The thing is, I have a lot of Dragonlance books.  Forgotten Realms (mostly Drizzt, which I've already stated I think are crap).  Conan.  Star Trek novelizations, both the original series and TNG.  Dozens of others.  Dozens and dozens of books all told--so many I don't even know the number--and now I wonder how many of them I actually want to keep?  All of these things that I've been paying to store for years, that were cherished in memory, now just taking up space, gathering dust and cat hair because I've outgrown them.

Also all of these art supplies.  All the paints and pastels and canvases and paper and sketchbooks.  The writing materials--the notes and manuscripts and piles of paper and drawers of pens.  I haven't used any of this in any serious way in at least four years.

Do I just pack all of this up again?  Throw it away?  I've always thought these things were involved with who I am.  Now it seems like it was all an important part of who I was but not who I am.  If I jettison all of this, will I be able to let go of the "was" and figure out the "am" and the "will be"?

Beth had a lot of potential, but she was incredibly, tremendously, fatally flawed.  Liz burned away the dross, discovered and tempered the steel.  If Elizabeth no longer needs the things from her past, then the compassion, wisdom, and gratitude she's discovered are more than fair compensation.

....

Well that was pretty convoluted.  Welcome to my brain, folks.

Excuse me, FDA...

Can we maybe add a side effect to the listings for Zoloft?

"Caution, possible side effects may include (once you have become a real live human through use of this product) bitter regret caused by pondering how different your life could have been--fewer stupid decisions made, fewer people tremendously hurt by you--if someone had given you this help sooner, instead of you spending the first three decades of your life completely batshit."

Thanks!

Love and kisses, Elizabeth

Living with kitties.

On Monday, my husband and I went to get the loveseat and coffee table I've been looking at for the sitting area in the diningroom. For pretty much forever. I'm very excited to have them, and love how the room is looking. Thankfully the material/color of the loveseat hides cat hair fairly well. I can assure you I took that into consideration, with both a black cat and a white/brown tabby cat. (The chocolate brown living room furniture, purchased before the adoption of the white/brown tabby cat, is not holding up as well.) In retrospect, however, the glass-topped coffee table may not have been the best choice. I love the piece, and intend to have something displayed under the glass, but...footie-prints. This morning I've already wiped it down once, made a pot of tea, then turned around to find more footie-prints. Well, at least I'll be able to clean it before company comes over for holidays and whatnot.

I am losing patience with the third cat, Mystery. Myssie lives in my art studio, because she doesn't get along with other animals and is afraid of men. I adopted her back when she was 6 years old, because her family was moving and couldn't take her. I knew that she was nervous but took her in anyway because otherwise she was going to the pound, and I highly doubted there was much demand for anti-social adult cats.

I have been patient. I have been kind. I have changed how I move and speak. I have given her nothing but love and the best care I know how to. And still--still, after six years in my care--she is almost as scared of me as the day I got her. She's come far, yes--she's actually a nuisance when it comes to wanting petting--but if I forget to move carefully enough she will still hiss and scramble away as if I'm going to beat her. I still can't pick her up, or make any kind of sudden movement, or loud noise, or fekking walk toward her. I have tried not to take any of this personally, but after 6 goddamned years it's feeling pretty goddamned personal. I'd have given her another home long ago, if I thought that anyone else would take the time to understand her--reallyunderstand her--and that anyone else would or could put up with her...idiosyncrasies. Just this morning she actually crashed into the leg of my desk in her haste to get away from me as I walked to her litter box.

I wonder, not for the first time, if it would have been better for her to go to the pound all those years ago. She would have ended up being put down, I'm sure, but at least then all of her fear and emotional pain would have been over and done with. I am not, of course, going to take her to be put down just because she's (tremendously) inconvenient. I just wonder if I actually did her any favors, all those years ago.

Sum-sum-summertime...

Another busy day ahead for me today.  There is of course quite a lot that needs to be done outside, but I despise humid heat and so will be staying inside.  Where there is also quite a lot that needs to be done.  The house is currently in what I think of as "summer lockdown": all blinds closed, shades drawn, and fans going.  I prefer to avoid using the AC, and really only turn it on to take the edge off when the house gets too humid.

We have a houseguest for the summer, a friend's friend's hedgehog.  He's living in my husband's computer room, since that room stays bright and is very warm even when the AC is on.  There is a great deal of blind faith here, because Gordon's mom doesn't know me, and I'm taking the responsibility very seriously.  I will freely admit that I don't see the appeal of having one of these little guys as a pet (I like animals you can pet/snuggle without bleeding, and so far he's kind of a hissing, somewhat smelly cactus--albeit cute and amusing to watch), but he's an animal in my care and that means he gets treated as my own.

Lessee, what else is happening?  I'm making progress in getting the house organized and put away, which is lovely.  With the cabinet in the diningroom assembled I was finally able to put away our "for special" dishes, and unbox some wine glasses we got as a wedding gift (yeah that was two years ago).  I should be able to finish the diningroom today except for some accessorizing.

I've started thinking about what I need to do today rather than typing, so I guess that's my cue to get moving.

xoxo

~E

Cleaning house.

Trying to arrange my studio, in the hopes that improving the work space will help me get back into actually doing art.  It's incredibly annoying and difficult, because Mystery lives in here and can't be let out.  Ideally the way to rearrange a room is to empty it out and then bring things back in, but that's sort of hard to do when the door has to stay closed because of the cat.  Also with said cat underfoot and/or cowering in terror.  But I seem to be making some progress.

I'm considering getting rid of a lot of my videos.  Like almost all of them.  I never watch them anymore.  Seems like the most I do is pop in LotR while I'm sewing or something.  I have a rather ridiculous collection of Mystery Science Theater 3000, but haven't watched any of them in forever.  No desire to.  My husband can't stand it so we obviously don't watch it together.  Without the chance to make new memories to associate with it...sitting alone in my room watching MSTy isn't all that fun and is in fact a rather painful reminder of things lost.  Like being tethered to my past with barbed wire.

I think a lot of my books are going to go, as well.  I've unpacked my ST:TNG, Conan, and Dragonlance books, but haven't really read any.  Well, the Weis/Hickman Dragonlance books have gotten re-read, but I haven't touched the others yet despite the fact that they've been in storage for about a decade.

The idea of getting rid of a lot of my old things certainly isn't a new one for me.  I know that a great deal of what's still in storage is no longer remotely relevant and will be disposed of in some fashion.  What I'm not sure of right now is how much of this is genuine personal change and moving on, and how much is just whatever pre-mid-life crisis I'm having.

Existential Crisis, get thee behind me.

Really getting tired of these...existential dilemmas? Identity crises? I keep having.  I don't seem to actually do any art anymore.  My quilting projects are creative, of course, and it certainly takes imagination to successfully design the interior of a home.  These things don't make me feel as...complete...as drawing, painting, and sculpting do though.  The house just sucks so much of my time and energy; I don't ever seem to have any leftover for drawing, and drawing has always been, for my entire life, the biggest thing I have associated with myself. With my self.  Without that, who am I?  I look in the mirror (when I let myself do so) and I have no idea who that woman is.  She's a complete stranger to me.

I put so much time and energy and mental effort into this house, yet at the end of the day I still don't see any of myself when I look around, with the exception of the one completed area of landscaping.  Not even my studio.

Any my studio! Or is it my "studio"?? Since I don't use it for much, it seems, other than zoning out on the computer and just generally avoiding the shows my husband watches when he comes home from work.  I've thought lately of changing it around again--trying to find the balance between sanctuary and workplace.  I've thought of organizing the storage more efficiently, of bringing in another table or two for additional work surfaces.  And then I wonder if there's a goddamned point to doing any of that.

Will I find the inspiration to go back to these things that were always an integral part of my soul (so I thought) if I can find a way to make a better space for them?  Or is that me gone forever and now I just have to figure out who this woman is now?  Some things about being a housewife do make me feel content.  I think more often, though, I just have no freaking clue who I am or if this is who I want to be.

And why do I feel so lost when my life is going so well?