February 22nd, 2016

2013, cyd, new

Lucidity Rocks

Dear Diary,


It’s happened again, I have come to the inevitable conclusion that I want to be rail thin, more than I want my coffee. I will be thin by my 47th birthday in 88 days. To celebrate it, I will take the Tardis-blue tank top I have, that I hate because it is not black (it came in a four pack with three black ones), and I will paint “Bad Wolf” on it and wear it proudly as my first piece of fandom-wear. AND I will wear it with my biker boots and the skinny jeans I will also reward myself with when I’m three inches less round.


It’s the medication, don’t be fooled, Cyd. I’ve been off Seroquel for 2 months, and on Latuda steadily (because of my own failings), for almost three weeks. I feel fanfuckingtastic. I am sleeping well, getting things done, communicating openly with another human being for the first time in my life, and I’m pretty zen with it.


About the weight loss though, since quitting the fat-maker, Seroquel, I have lost 3 inches overall. I have gone from a 38″ waist, which I wear on my hips (I only wear boy-jeans, not those high waisted girl-jeans), to a 35″ waist jean, which I also wear on my hips. I have gotten zen with the fact that my boobs are now a D-cup, and will always remain so. I would rather a B-cup, and if I ever get rich, I will have a lift and reduction done, but I’m never going to get rich, so I’ll try to stop stuffing the things into a C-cup. But the strap size goes up and down with my weight loss and gains, so it’s at a 38″ right now, too. Should be 34″.


So, I have this new resolve that has been building up, and we’ll see where it takes me.


Today we are gardening, and I hope to get at least four layers of a paper platter I’m making done. If Doc goes out while I’m not working on other things, I will clean the kitchen and cook off some bacon and shred cheese for the week. Which reminds me, I have Havarti in there and some crusty wheat rolls. Sounds like breakfast, with a scrambled egg  the side. That sounds good, and it sounds like at least 350 calories.


You may be wondering, if I struggle to get 350 calories of solid food in me a day to take my meds with (Latuda won’t metabolize without it), how it is that I am not rail thin already. It’s the coffee. I put a LOT of sugar in my coffee and a lot of milk. 2% milk, but milk, just the same. When my Nana heard how much coffee and how much sugar I consumed, she said, amazed, “But you’re not fat!” That’s because I don’t eat, Nana. I only love food that is bad for me, so I will only eat it in moderation, so I just don’t eat. That’s why I want the nutrient shakes. Without the constant sugar of the coffee, I’m going to need something to help me regulate my blood sugar. I’ve always been “borderline” hypoglycemic, and never really done anything about it but make sure I don’t faint in public. I will, however, throw up in public. I know I’m not drunk, I don’t care what anyone else thinks.


Did I mention yet that I am sitting on the patio with my keyboard in my lap typing this? Well, I am. I took the dog for a 40 minute walk around the neighborhood. I wanted to go out and see the construction, and I will have awesome pictures of that to display later, then I just let Chewbacca lead. He stays within the walls of the neighborhood, he was actually rather distressed when I started leading him out to see the construction outside the walls. So I just listened to my music, stopped to let him pee every 37 seconds and cleaned up his poop. And walked. And he does not go at a leisurely pace. That little dog hustles. And when he puts all four legs and his back into it, he can pull on the leash pretty hard. That’s why he wears a harness on walks, he can stretch out his collar by pulling and get loose.


It felt so good to be out in the sun, Dear Diary. And I wore my new biker boots. And I didn’t wear my bag as a hip-pack. Doc informed me during an “honesty session” that it embarrassed him. So I extended the strap it conveniently came with so I can put it across my chest, over my shoulder. Whatever. When I’m skinny, I’m going back to wearing it as a hip pack, because then I can get away with it. No one cares what weird thing you have on when you are rail thin. That is a fact in America. Especially in a tourist city like this one. A weird looking heavy/healthy chick will be watched, judged, scrutinized if her clothes or hair deviate from the norm. A thin chick? No one cares, they are too busy chiding themselves for that second mocha latte or skipping the gym for a month and not being able to fit into my pants. That’s the women. I don’t care what the men think. There is no pleasing them or figuring out what will please them. It’s easier to ignore the men and shut down the women. At least in the tourist areas. In local areas, I will smile. You never see skinny chicks smile, it’s eerie.


I took a four hour nap, and I woke up and had a cup of coffee and put it away, even though there was fresh coffee made for me by Doc. I did pour a glass full of ice with soda. Doc got it for his vodka (man after my own heart), and allowed me two glasses. I had half of one last night that he finished, and I will probably finish this one. But I’m drinking more water than soda. Of course, when I ate, which was basically a cheese, basil and garlic fest with a baguette thrown in for good measure. And marinara sauce, of course. Something to dip in is fun. We have quite an assorted collection of ramekins and small dipping bowls. They are so fun to use. I’m not a dipper by nature, but every so often, I will find something. So, it continues to be a good day. I took some Sudafed (I know, I’m a pill junkie), and my head is clear of the allergy snot. So I’m feeling pretty good.


Time to go process pictures, before I lose the natural light behind me facing the screens.


Doc is going out to pick up my medication. I haven’t had it today, and I feel it. A level builds up in my body, but I get an extra boost every morning from them.

2013, cyd, new

Iced Water is my Best Friend

Dear Diary,


I have a re-useable water bottle that is 48 ounces. I drank 6 of those yesterday. I drank three cups of coffee, maybe a bit less. And then I slept for 8 solid hours for the first time in years. It was weird and I felt really discombobulated when I got up at 3am. I’ll have to adjust my sleep schedule to get most sleep at night. I need the day light now for a while. And 3-10am is my quiet time with Doc home.


He’s working overtime this week. 14 hour days all week. There’s our new TV. But it’s going to be hard on him. I have to keep him going to work this week. If we can get him through the next two, he can relax for a while and take an extra day off to unwind. I see dollar signs in one eye and a beat and battered Doc in the other. I’m conflicted. They are trying to make him a Coach of his department again. He doesn’t want it. Barely more compensation, maybe not any more because Doc has been working there so long he’s already making good money. And way more hassle. Doc is good, no great at what he does. Global Support and Service. He talks to employees all over the world and remote fixes their issues. And he doesn’t take shit from anyone, which has earned him respect from his superiors over and over. Because he makes it seem like it is your decision not to give him any more shit and just cooperate with him. I love that about him.


I think I’ll move the extra lamp in here tonight to get some extra work done. I am almost finished and ready to send packages out to my three closest friends. Packages that should have arrived a long time ago. But I hope they will be appreciated, never the less. Kelli’s box will be packed up last because I have software to send her, a loaded hard drive to send her, and instructions to print out for her. I am going to try my damndest to get her back into art and design. She has no room to paint right now, so I’m setting her up with the Adobe Creative Suite to play with, with all of my presets and brushes and such-ness.


I have about two dozen necklaces to make. It’s funny, I’ve never worked with “focal pieces” (center pieces of the necklace) before. Maybe a charm here or there, but not like I am now. Medium emphasis on beads, simple cord and findings, and what I am trying to make gorgeous focal pieces. I have one I kind of fucked up, so I just made it for myself because no one ever gets close enough to me to see the flaws. It’s hanging outside to loosen the coils on the leather cord. Once I put it on, I will take a picture of it on and finally debut my stolen and mutilated concept.


I also have to order tinsel glitter today and renew zenweb.net, which expired 2/6. With luck, Doc left enough in my account.


I’m going to ask for my birthday that someone get me an 8oz. package of black Sculpey. I don’t like using white as a base, I always have to paint or something over it. With black, I can just gloss. And it would add a lot to my designs because I am using bright clay colors and the contrast would be nice. Actually, I think I’ll buy it with my Patreon money next month. That’s a better and faster idea. Though, I could always use black clay. I’m making a clay tree for the cover of my Smash Book. And that is going to take a lot of black. I already have the design ready, it will be made up of long, thin ropes. It will be super-creepy and very cool. You guys do know that though I use extreme adjectives to describe what I’m doing, at the same time, I am completely gobsmacked that I can actually make this stuff, and make it look good. Really, it blows me away when I look through my inventory.


I’ve decided to offer Patreon Patrons 10% off the shop when it is finally up. As a bonus kind of thing. I swear, I can’t make my Patreon memberships any more enticing or better value for your money. I need PR, advertising, word of mouth. I’m not getting it. I need to do something to go viral. But all the things I have tried have gone unnoticed. It’s going to have to happen accidentally. I just have to keep working at it and keep the material fresh and interesting. And I don’t want to go “white trash viral” where everyone is laughing at me, that isn’t the kind of recognition I want.


I’m done with my cup and a half of coffee. Didn’t even finish it. I cleaned out my mug and put it in the dishwasher to dry. I’m on my third bottle of water. I see I’m going to be filling the Brita pitcher a lot now. I WILL BE THIN. If you can’t have money, then you don’t need hips. And I’m out of baby age, so I don’t need hips at all, and my breasts are now purely ornamental. Maybe I should gold leaf them or something.


Okay, sun will be up in an hour. Time to start setting up the photo shoot for the shop. I need to get it open and indexed so I can start getting customers and I have a following by Xmas. I plan on doing a little Xmas boutique in the shop for the holidays. I was thinking Mokume Gane candy canes for hanging on the tree. Those would be expensive, but worth it. I’ll likely make some mini ones for my holiday tree.


I also have to find a source for small-medium pom poms. The three sets of ornaments I’m going to make, my mom taught me. We sold them like hot cakes back in the 80’s. I’m going for a cuteness revival, because all three ornaments are fucking precious. They each involve a prop and a fuzzy animal. A bear, a dog and a mouse. If I can find larger grey pompoms, I will make rat ornaments, too. Because, rats.


And when Halloween comes around, I am going to find and collect every bit of skull, bat, and spider fabric and ribbon and molds and stencils and anything else I can find. Then I can incorporate them into other holidays. Easter Spider? I’m going into the clearing with the holiday trees and spinning around and diving in.


I must take a shower today. Negative symptom. Doesn’t shower. Typical. Still unpleasant. I know I’m doing well when I can’t take my own stink, which I can smell long before anyone else can. And my hair, which is short as all hell, is matted against my head in the wrong direction, and it actually hurts. Yes, my hair hurts. Fucked up.


After the photo shoot, today has to be “finish up” day. I have a line of things waiting for their final stages. I have to get all of that taken care of today so I can shoot it all tomorrow.


Once it gets shot, it will be assigned an inventory number and labeled. Groupings of things will be packaged together. Then I have to find big boxes to store the stuff in, in an organized way. Then I will keep it in my room, to keep anything from melting in the heat of the garage/studio. Then , the hard part, working with the spread sheet to set prices. Figuring out how much I need to charge for taxes before I can get my profit. I also have to design receipts (unless WooCommerce does that for me, which it might), and keep copies of all of them. I have a small file box in the garage that I will use to keep the bills and other paperwork. All of my taxes are going straight into my savings account, so at the end of next year, I have the money ready to go to the state. I’m going to do this smart. Pay my taxes, report my income to SSI every month in writing. I can make around $500 per month from the shop. I don’t think I’ll have any issues with exceeding that. I don’t have the inventory yet. HA!

2013, cyd, new

Oh Dear, I Seem to be Musing

Dear Diary,


But when am I not musing? About some damn thing or other.


IMG_0007aI found this seemingly promising article yesterday titled, “17 Things People with a Mental Illness Want You to Know”. So I read it, I thought at first that I would write an essay on it from my point of view, taking it point by point. Alas, that couldn’t happen. I may sound kind of negative or skeptical of “mood disorders”, at least the new flock of them, in the upcoming sentences. It’s just that I have been in the psychiatry world for a long time now, and I have seen things come and go. Anyone remember “false memories” and what havoc that wreaked on those who had real memories of abuse? I was wrongly diagnosed in 1984, year of Lithium and Manic Depression, as they called it then. I have been sucked into the fads (ECT, anyone?) and now I watch carefully from a distance until they pan out through research and treatment. If we’re going to talk about IMG_0014alabeling people with mood disorders, I’m sure I could come up with a whole list of stuff I have. I don’t want that.


So, this article. It was quotes from 17 overly-sensitive people with new mood disorders, mad that they were being stigmatized. Welcome to the world of mental illness, kids. That is what you bought in to. A life of labels and stigma. Not so glamorous being a victim, after all, is it? gets down off soapbox


IT’s funny, I want something to drink other than ice water for a few minutes and I can’t think of anything we have. I had some orange juice, but it had gone bad. I don’t want coffee or soda or Gatorade. More water, it is. I’m now on a completely anti-corn syrup bender. But, after I do eat in the morning for my meds, I feel so guilty and bloated, I just go to sleep because I IMG_0010acan’t handle the guilt. Maybe the wrong switch went on. We’ll see. I’m never sure how compulsive I’m being.


The pictures are from the construction shoot I did with Chewbacca yesterday. There are the four I have completed. Maybe. I may put frames around them.


I finished that project that was causing me so much anticipation. I did it wrong, it was an experiment. But the result is quite different and more interesting than I expected it to be. There will be a nice picture of it posted at the Patreon Patron board, and possibly on the member board on here, if I can do that. It’s taken from a shot of the innards of a 15 year old computer, all askew. And it has been altered, just slightly, so if you notice it, it takes all sense of reality out of the photo. I transferred it to a canvas covered with newspaper clips and a white wash. So there is a bit of a texture going on.  I may frame it because I don’t want to fuck up the texture with gloss, but I think it needs a shiny top. It’s only an 8″x10″ canvas board. I should be able to get a nice, industrial type frame from the cheap frame place without having it custom made.


Ack, I have no heartbeat! I can’t find my pulse or my heartbeat. Freaky. I’m dead. I suspected this. I’ve been feeling a little worn down . . . oh, that’s the lack of constant coffee. Okay, so the heartbeat is in there somewhere.IMG_0021a


Later . . .


I took a short nap and cleaned the house. Doc will be so relieved.


I set up the staging area for taking product pictures. I didn’t actually take any pictures because I lost the light, but it is all ready for me to go tomorrow. It’s simple, but portrays PRH’s personality. I used one of those thin, bat tree skirts with the glitter sprinkled on it. The glitter doesn’t show up, which is okay. I hung some beads in the upper part. Small, tiny seed beads in a looping garland. I even have little platforms to place things on.


HA! Vader and Bagira are running up and down the roof, and Chewy is chasing them, in the house, up and down the hallway. Major is just looking freaked out. Whoosh – there goes Chewy, and thump thump – here comes Vader and Bagira. I love these guys. I hope they don’t do this on anyone else’s roof. The devils just would.