@Driftwood: Yeah, no. The online academy covers the entire state, and not just the district. There is one for the district, but a former friend of mine tried it, and didn’t like it. Looking back, it sounds like it could’ve been the better choice. Well, I’m not gonna bother now. Bleh, it’s the weekend, I’ll think about schoolwork on Monday. I know, I know, I’m a procrastinator, and this is when people are supposed to catch up.

Rah, censoring art is the worst. I’ve had a lot of my artwork deleted from sites, and I’ve also seen a lot of other people get their artwork reproted, even if it’s just a well-made sculpture. Bothersome. It could probably also be my occasional angsty teen language, accidental risky links (if tinybuddha allowed me to, I’d go back and either add a warning to those links, or delete them entirely). Could be just someone flagging us for overstaying our welcome. Maybe I have a guilty conscious.

Thanks. I have thrifting to do now, (from that overdue christmas shopping spree thing) so I’ll check back, later. Wish me luck on my finds. There was a neon yellow fanny pack there last time, and I’m hoping it’s still there. Not joking, I have that feeling of regret for not impulse buying it the first time. Didn’t have a price tag, so that means I get to wave a neon yellow fanny pack in a worker’s face, to ask them how much it is.

@Driftwood: Howdy. I feel like this is gonna be a long post, so beware.

Yeah, it’s a bumpy start to 2017 for me, too. I’m sure we both remember the art high I was on during the entirety of winter break, which means that I didn’t do any catching up, and now I’m failing 6/7 of my classes, with little to no hope of passing any of them now.

As for the con – I made the wrong choice. Only one of my three friends I invited could make it, to start off. It was supposed to be a “end of winter break/end of the year” hangout/celebration thing. But where I messed up was with the location. As I mentioned before, I already knew they changed the con hotel location, but I decided to go to the mall nearby anyways. I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a con hotel, but there’s nothing to do, besides pay gargantuan amounts of money for admission and overpriced merchandise. And attend the deathly boring panels, which are usually hosted by very awkward introverts, who can’t do anything but mumble and click the “next” button on a powerpoint.

So we get to the mall. In onesies. We are the only ones dressed up. I’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. My friend has never been to a con before, and she’s now upset with me for lying to her. We Google the new con hotel location, and it’s nearly 3 miles away, which is nearly an hour long walk. We tried to find the bus stop that’d take us there, but neither of us have the best sense of direction, so we decide to stay at Lloyd (the mall). I would’ve called mom to come back and drive us across the bridge (where the con hotel is), but she was on her way to go grocery shopping, and she brought her boyfriend with her. (And yes, that made a super awkward car ride from my friend’s house, to the mall. This particular friend knows I don’t like him, but doesn’t really understand. So she was yapping during the entire time, in which I only replied with silent nods, and pretended like I didn’t want to curl up and die.) And that being said, I didn’t get to go to Powell’s. I will, though.

My friend and I had a decent time. I made a other shallow promise of claiming there was a hot topic there, when it, in fact, has closed down within the past year. But we got some shopping done. She bought a tokidoki book bag, and I bought a little tokidoki unicorn notebook, to fill with advice and short quotes by the end of this year. And she stayed over for new years, which we spent standing outside my apartment, looking for fireworks, in the worst spots. She started shouting happy new years at everyone, and told me to lighten up. Then we went out and got sparkling cider. I spent that night sick and trembling, because my mom didn’t get me the sleep aid until 12pm. But all-in-all, I had a good time. And she got me fuzzy pajama pants. I really like fuzzy pajama pants. (I’m in a bit of a pickle, because her grandmother bought me a seemingly expensive jacket, but it’s really not my style, and cleaning out my closet is something I’ve been focusing on.. but my grandma didn’t even get me anything..)

I don’t currently have access to Netflix, but I have a few friends I could always pester for their login, or the online movie and tv streaming websites. That opening you linked is really well done. Their use of the drippy textures works in really nice, I think. It gives it a “dark” feel.

Speaking of art, I’ve found another opportunity. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to land it, but I think it’s worth a shot. There’s a new and upcoming monthly surprise box called Stickerbento, and they send out 8 large stickers a month, all by different underground artists. And you can submit art, for free. The only problems I’m having is that the style that a lot of the stickers they have chose previously are very cartoony, and it’s a hard style for me to pull off. I love creating as much depth as possible, and I hate doing lineart, so this is going to be a challenge. But I’ve started on a design already, and I think it’s going swell. I might’ve spent 2 hours coloring the skin how I usually would, and deleted that layer after I finished, to restart on a more simplistic style. And I started drawing my ginger character, only to realize that the company chooses a lot of stickers in a blue/purple/pink color palette, so I sucked it up, and made her hair blue instead. I think it’s coming out well.

Also, I’ve been having a little bit of an ongoing crisis for the past 3 or 4 years (yes, another one). Art style;what is it? Why can’t I maintain one? Doing this sticker submission is making me question where I am with my work, again. I feel like all the progress of finding myself, after I stopped copying anime/manga artists, is slowly unraveling. I feel lost. It’s always been a big goal of mine to have someone see one of my works, and know it’s mine, by my style. But my artwork is all over the place. And I feel like this is going to be an ongoing battle for many more years.

And more on art; I really, really, really want to sell some little doodles this year. Actually, just right before I checked the forum, I was researching on for types of paper people use when selling their artwork. I understand that a doodle isn’t going to sell as well as a painting, but it’s easier for me to take baby steps to committing to something that’ll take 2 hours, compared to 20 hours. Plus, the longer amount of time I put into something, the more attached I become.

—

Mother came home with a bottle of 90 vitamin D pills. One to be taken with food, daily. This means finding something appetizing to eat, daily. Actually, right before she came home I was quickly striding to the kitchen to grab some crakcers, because I didn’t know who would come home first, or when, so I didn’t know if I’d get hungry later. Now everyone’s making fun of me for never leaving my room. They’re all playing doctor, and saying “go out more”. I wish I could express to my doctor that I’m painfully agoraphobic (and for good reason).

Conflict is picking up in the house, again. It all falls exactly under the teepee scenario. He’s scheduled someone to replace the living room carpet with hard wood flooring this weekend, but he’s going to be out of town, and expects mother, the two very rowdy dogs and I to find somewhere else to go for 8 hours. After mother declines this, his response is hilarious. “None of this would be happening if [Sammi] would just take out the damn dogs to go piss.” (Mind you, I haven’t been able to wake up until 1pm, which is about the time everyone starts to come home. Oversleeping is extremely uncontrollable for me. I hate to play the mental illness card, but y’know.)

The blame game. I love the blame game. Keep it comin’.

Oh, forgot to mention another side note. I finally got mom to send out my painting to my s.o., and he just got it, a few days ago. On the packaging, she apparently wrote “Thank you for all of your kindness to [Sammi]. I appreciate you more than I can express. Love, [Sammi’s mum]”.

I just found that odd and heartwarming, figured I would share. I think she knows about him and I, but doesn’t think I know that she knows. Or maybe she does, and we’re all just dancing around thin ice. Either way, she’s cool with it, apparently.

@Driftwood: Howdy. I hope your snow shoveling wasn’t too exhausting.

Ah, mailmen. My dogs don’t like them, either. Maybe they’re all up to something that us non-mailmen humans don’t know about? Who knows.

As for you “big baby” comment, that sounds pretty correct. I don’t know if “addiction” is really something relevant here, unless we’re talking about his frequent protein shakes, and testosterone shots. That was a bit mean, but it’s true.

When I read your challenge/suggestion to do something that essentially makes me confident, and then leave my room when he’s around, I got the mental image of younger me standing there, and quietly shaking my head. Forgive me, as I know that it can only be a step forward, but I don’t think I want to endure that, just yet. It is doable, but in a chore way. Don’t think I would look very natural at it, and then it’d become their entire conversation for the night. When I close my room door behind me, it’s kind of like I’m leaving all of my confidence there.

To get myself out of bed tomorrow, I’m planning on livestreaming my makeup process, before counseling. (Instagram has a livestream feature, now.) I have a pretty small following, for someone online (350 people, about), so it’ll be a shock if I get more than 2 people watching. Hopefully that goes well.

The snow isn’t as pretty as it was a few days ago, which sucks. I really wanted to take a few photos, but the area around here isn’t all that inspiring. I have a hard time finding nice sights, within walking distance. I wish I had friends over a few days ago, but the drive would’ve taken forever. I’m kicking myself, because it was all such a missed opportunity. Maybe more snow will come, maybe not. There’s always next year.

I’ve heard of Powell’s Books, but I’ve never really had the chance to have a wholesome trip to one of their stores. I was passing through once, (wasting time with a friend) a few years ago, and got a few uninviting stares from the college kids that seemed to be everywhere. Felt a little lost. I remember their variety of books being insane, though. Believe it or not, I don’t actually read a lot of books, but I do like being in bookstores. Preferably, the manga or comic section of Barnes and Noble.

Oh – sorry to hear about the video sending website. I’ll dig around for an alternative, for future video sending needs. Possibly just uploading things to youtube as unlisted.

—

Had my friend over, for a few days. She managed to motivate me to get out of the bed relatively early, and then we headed out to the mall. The sidewalks are completely covered in ice, and she decided to wear high heels. Having a laugh at her wobbly, newborn deer walk felt nice.

We got there. Everything felt routine, of checking the few same shops and nagging about the same few things. But we got to Spencer’s, and the routine broke a little. Someone tapped me on the shoulder, which nearly gave me a heart attack, and complimented me on my hair. I quietly accepted it, and then wheezed at my friend, because neither of us are used to social interaction. Also, the mall is at a constant state of being completely packed, so her and I ended up panicking in the middle of Spencer’s. The guy that complimented me earlier sees us two huddled together and comes over to make conversation with us. He’s our age, apparently. At first, I thought he was an employee there.

Anyways, he ends up being a cool guy, and we exchange contact info. This is a big deal for me, because now I have a new friend. I’ve made a new friend. (I should clarify that I’m not naive, I made sure to make it very apparent to him that both my friend and I are in relationships, and he understood.)

Lil update.

I’ve spent more than an hour out of my room today. This was not purposeful, though. While we were out at my old Jr. high, walking our dogs, there was a snow storm just picking up. The school is about 10 minutes away from where we live now. We hit the freeway, and got stuck there for 3 entire hours. I was forced to listen to nothing but the repeating local news stories on the radio, and my mother humming the same Christmas song for the entirety of the 3 hours, while slowly starting to become more and more hungry from (accidentally) not eating for 24 hours. Her phone died, so she also played on her noisy gps, and changed the house address on there, for the first time in 6 years. (We’ve moved 4 times since then, actually.)

I’m home now, though. We got one of the furthest parking spots at the parking lot, so it was a lengthy walk in the snow to our apartment. Just as we’re coming up to our apartment, I can make out a familiar, irritating silhouette, through my fogged-up glasses.

He’s standing there, in shorts. He set himself up for failure, much like how he insist that mother has done to me. I can feel myself grumbling every swear word in the book as I have no other option but to walk towards him, with my mom just behind me. He states that he came out to find her. How sweet.

For the rest of the way, I walk as far ahead from them as my dog allows me to. It’s uncomfortable, because he, her boyfriend, purposely slows down behind me. At one point, I tug the dogs leash too hard, and it slides off his neck. I grit my teeth, storm to the door (no pun intended), and fight with the door knob.

He locked the door, before taking his heroic two steps outside. This meant I had to stare at my phone for a few minutes, while waiting for them to catch up, so he could unlock the door. He finally does, and I wait for mother to go inside first, so I can have that little extra bit of space away from him.

Later, in my room, I hear him telling his absolutely heart-warming story. It basically went something like “well, I wasn’t getting any response from you, and I didn’t know if she had my number, so I figure I would go out and look for you“.

I just feel like he’s acting all high and mighty about nothing. Even if he did manage to get to his car, he wouldn’t have had a clue where we were located, and would’ve gotten stuck in traffic. Then, after two minutes of waiting and swearing, he’d drive back home.

Also, my friend’s single dad has been freakishly nice to mother and I. Like, he’s given me $200 USD within the past month, and he comments on everything her and I post on facebook. I’ve asked mom on her thoughts, and she said he’s “too nice“. It’s repulsive to think she actively searches for someone who treats us both like garbage.

Anyways, that was my little ramble on today. Nothing special happened, but I just felt like venting.

@Anita: Oh lord, I’m very sorry to hear that you had to go through that virus fiasco. I’ve ruined many laptops due to such, so props to you for getting your computer back up and running.

Best to you too, Anita.

—

(God, I accidentally mentioned the wrong Nina in the in my last post. My bad.)

@Driftwood: I hope your weekend went well, hearing that you were pretty occupied.

Raaah, I’m tired. Not much of a response is coming to mind, currently. I really shouldn’t be trying to form replies when I’m completely emotionally drained, but I like to respond as often as possible, for the simple sake of politeness. Why ignore someone if they’re only trying to help?

Ah – eggshells. During this weekend, my friend’s grandma (she temporarily lives with her grandparents, due to a divorce) kept insisting I eat constantly, and with their household, around the TV. It felt painfully uncomfortable for multiple reasons. For one, I never eat other people’s cooking besides my mothers. Secondly, I never eat in the same room as anyone else, unless it’s something quick at the mall. To be so welcomed into a household was completely strange to me. I actually ate 3 meals, in one day. Granted, I felt like garbage afterwards. But it was strange to have someone always in the kitchen, preparing the next meal. (I’m used to fending for myself until when mom makes dinner, so that ends up being the only meal I eat, because it’s the only thing I’m forced to eat. Maybe “forced” is too harsh of a word.)

But the entire time, I felt like nothing but a waste of time, effort and food. They didn’t make me feel like such, but I felt it anyways. It’s an unshakable feeling. I couldn’t help but do an awkward bow, synced with a quiet “thaaanks..”, after every meal. Also, thanks for pointing out the lack of self worth as fallout, because I have a decently difficult time identifying what is, and what isn’t.

(And as much as I wish I was a 65 year old male taxi driver, though that’d probably equally or more miserable, or in any other life than my own, I am not. Sorry, if I seem to have come off as such. Actually, I still don’t fully know how to drive a car.)

@Anita: Howdy.

I’ve filmed a video, in response to most everything you’ve said. Only in hopes that repeating myself for 30 minutes on camera would make me seem a little more believable. I didn’t edit out the parts of me reading your later posts, but that’s because I didn’t want it to seem fake. (Also, the watermark at the beginning and end are from converting the video file to a lower quality type of file, because my PC likes to film in the .mp4 format, which made the file 1.8GB, which made it exceed the SendVid limit.)

https://sendvid.com/ktf76i64

As for the notable difference in speech – in my typing compared to my talking – I don’t really think of things before I say them, whereas I can think before I type. It makes for a difference, because I can make alterations to my vocabulary before I post. (I mention that briefly in the video). It should also be apparent that I’m a total introvert, and so it’s harder for me to successfully get my point across offline, rather than online. I’m really not quite used to talking alone in my room, unless it’s during a Skype call.

The more I think about it, the more guilty I feel, though I have no reason to feel as such. It’s like when a cop drives by, you’re wearing your seat belt, but feel on edge anyways?

A little more to mention to post #5 – my mother is constantly complaining to me about her adult problems, so then her adult problems become my adult problems. Well, I don’t actively worry about them, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t in the back of my head. So I constantly get to hear about her late paychecks, the utility bills rising, the rent rising and the garbage apartment managers.

I should also mention, in addition to being homeschooled, I’ve always been friends with the older crowds. And even when I went to public school, I always befriended the teachers, more than most of the students. Or freakishly mature people my age, mostly online. (And I always know they’re my age, thanks to Skype. I don’t have a problem talking to older people, at all, until they hide their age.) I don’t wanna whine on about “wah, wah, I’m truly mature for my age!!”, but I am.

Lastly, around the end of the video, I beg you for more ways to prove it, but in the 4 hours it’s taken to film, convert that video, and type this up, I’ve come to a conclusion. A conclusion I’ve mentioned before, but didn’t quite settle on, mentally.

Believe what you want. I’m tired. I really don’t feel like bending over backwards just over the fight of my existence, so I’m not going to. Take this, or leave it. I know who I am, my friends/s.o. know who I am, and that’s all that should matter to me. This was stressing me out all day whilst shopping, even though it shouldn’t.

But, I’m impressed by your creativity. Have you witnessed something similar on here before?

My apologies for handling this so immaturely, recently. Again, I’m just in a little bit of shock.

—

I’m gonna go edit the new canon pics now, finally. Goodnight.

@Driftwood: I honestly have no idea.

I think that where she’s coming from is her disbelief in how I manage to be so unjaded in the current situation I’m in, and with how long it’s been. I’ve read her reply a few times, and I’m still a little lost, but all I can do is give quiet acknowledgement and respect her choice.

Again, I just don’t ever want anyone to think that I’m not trustable. I am who I say, and I’ve endured everything as long as I have.

Also, I’m at my friend’s house again, this weekend. Replies might not be too speedy/lengthy. Trying to get photos of the new hair, before it fades. Being away from home only makes me want to paint, but I’m never in the mood to paint, when I’m at home.