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10 April 2010 @ 08:01 pm
Free to use, alter, ect. Please give credit to this journal, if you're so inclined.

Astrid: 001-008
Fishlegs: 001-005
Gobber: 001-015
Hiccup: 001-043
Ruffnut/Tuffnut: 001-006
Snotlout: 001-007
Stoic: 001-011
Toothless: 001-009
Dragons (misc): 001-005


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This is a story. Make some popcorn.

Once upon a time, I joined a game. I loved the game, and all the people were so nice. I was by no means the best RPer in the group, but I wasn't intimidated by how amazing everyone was. I wanted to learn and become better. These people were awesome, you guys. They had the best stories and the deepest characters...they were layered and intelligent and so much fun.

Or so I thought.

I have depression, as in the medical condition where they usually try to get you to take pills if you can afford them, and I need to regulate my diet to help control tings. Occasionally I'll have suicidal episodes, which is never much fun, but for years I have had an ongoing paranoid delusion that maybe my friends don't actually like having me around and they're just tolerating me out of politeness.

Now, this is usually the sort of thing I force to the side and say "well, that's silly."

But imagine my shock when I was approached by a high-ranking representative of my RP game and told that everyone secretly hated me, and that I needed to leave. Needless to say I was horrified and crushed...and I've never spoken to any of them again. I can barely touch that fandom at all anymore, without getting upset.

But the result was good, in the end:

I refuse to play with people who are unwilling to give me honest crit, even and in fact especially if it is bad. If I am making your RP experience miserable, or even mildly unpleasant, I want to know. I want you to tell me with complete and total, brutal, painful honesty.

And you will have to get used to expecting the same from me.

Because I am not willing to go through with that again. In the past I have dropped games, blocked friends and completely rearranged CR to avoid playing with people who are unable to give or receive accurate crit.

It's one thing to be a jackass or an idiot. I can live with that. It's another to be doing either on purpose.

And that's my policy.
08 December 2009 @ 08:55 pm
Here's my latest sewing project. (more pictures, after the jump)


So good, cats ask for it by name!Collapse )
22 November 2009 @ 02:26 pm
Because why the heck not?

I love this short film. Hey, feel free to use these, just credit them back to me!

Long ago my city’s luminous heart, beat with the song of four thousand cats...Collapse )
25 February 2009 @ 01:19 pm
Friggin IconsCollapse )

Free to use!
03 February 2009 @ 07:26 pm
Click the Image to see!
16 January 2009 @ 05:08 pm
Every so often I have a Lucid Dream, lucky, lucky me. I am almost invariably unable to remember this dream the day of, but usually some time later, something reminds me of it.

Sometimes I have the same dream more than once...Collapse )</div>
14 January 2009 @ 11:54 pm
Even the worst day can be improved by fanfiction.

Case in point:

Current Mood: apatheticapathetic
14 January 2009 @ 01:14 pm
I like funerals, does that make me strange? I never have any excuse to be in funerally places, except when someone's died. I like funerally places, though...all the wood is shiny, and everything is so polite and polished.

...It makes me look forward to writing my own eulogy, and having a huge laugh over picking out the right urn for my ashes, and the look on my relatives face when I tell them what I want done with the ashes that don't fit. My aunt is a Funeral Director and Embalmer, she tells me that there's almost always way more ashes than can fit in a single urn.

In case you're wondering, I'm going to have this sort of thing put into my living will, so that my relatives will be legally obligated to accept how much of a dork I am when I'm gone, rather than to go on and on about handsome and mostly-false platitudes about being a good daughter and whatnot.

I'd like to be present at my own wake, conscious and alive and everything, if possible. I think it's called an "Irish Wake" or something...but it sounds like a lot more fun than toddling off into eternity and trusting my family to remember me nicely.

And another thing!

...why is it that people find funerals so sad?

I mean, I understand, you'll miss the person, and whatnot, but...If you believe they're headed off to a much better place, then what's the deal? In the eye of eternity, the fifty-odd years it'll take to see them again are literally nothing. It's like when you're a kid and ten minutes in a time-out chair seem like an eternity and a half...even though they really, really aren't. It's more like they're going off on a cruise to the Ultra-Bahamas, and you'll join them when the boat docks again. If I were going on a really great vacation, and people burst into tears because of this, I'd be a bit annoyed. Be happy for me, you jerks, I'd be happy for you!

Maybe I'm being insensitive. Story of my life.

So, what do you think, pokéball shaped funerary urn, or what?
Screw the living, smile into the breezes of eternity.
Current Mood: chipperchipper