A Safe Space for Moogles

I swear this last couple of weeks I've become a misanthrope.

( Just bleeding out some aggression before I explode. )

Basically, aside from a certain group of people (all of whom are on my flist), all who approach the moogledragon are at risk of getting torched. *grumbles* *huffs smoke* *retreats to cave and curls up in a scalyglowering moogledragonheap*

I just want this to be over, dammit. I don't mind the work, I just hate everything that goes with it. Why can't I just stay in my cave and make pretty things without having to deal with people?

In ascending order of "things that actually, y'know, affect other people."

Item 1: My professor pulled me aside today and essentially told me that my projects were crap and I'd have to redo them both. In retrospect, it shouldn't have been as big of a shock as it was. I'm grateful that I even have the chance to redo them, even if it means staying after class. Still, not a happy thing to be told. - She asked me if doing two majors was putting an unfair amount of pressure on me. I told her that it's a lot, that doesn't mean it's unfair. This is what I've decided to do. Even if it kills me.

Item 2: Our new masters, in their infinite wisdom, have decided to do away with the option to create Basic accounts. They call this "streamlining the setup process for new users." LJ users call it bullshit. I call it "really, really glad I followed dragovianknight to IJ, and wanting to tempt all my LJ friends over there with me." IJ does not have near enough Transformers fans, y'all. This needs to be fixed. Also, I should probably look into roleplay communities on IJ. ...Not that I'm giving up on LJ yet. They just own the servers; the real stuff - the content - that's ours.

Item 3: Oklahoma representative Sally Kern goes on an anti-gay tirade of epic proportions. Guys, when you listen to this, keep in mind between projectile-vomiting sessions that this is what they actually believe. And she's not just some crank bitching over the Internet - she's in a leadership position, speaking as a leader.

On the upside, today my new psychiatrist doubled my dosage of happy pills.

This must be the "in like a lion" thing I've heard about - a March snowstorm in Ohio, promising over a foot of accumulation in places. Even if I wasn't firmly in "so over this winter shit" mode since early February, I'd be worried - there's no big friendly fat flakes like you see on television, only a near-solid wall of the kind of mean little flakes that sting your skin like a thousand needles. I've been sitting by the window watching it for about three hours now and it hasn't stopped. The cars in the parking lot look like they've been abandoned by the side of the road; even moving cars aren't enough to break the illusion of loneliness and abandonment; the earth and sky are the same dull white, trying to swallow everything between them.

I don't want to drive home through all that, but I might as well. I'm not going to get anything done in the mood I'm in.

When I experience actual failure* rather than just the fear of it, my depression takes a turn for the wild and destructive. I drive too fast, flirt with red lights, curse at people for going the speed limit. I'd probably be off flinging myself off cliffs if I could find one. When I don't have a half-ton of metal around me I have to resort to stomping around and writing angsty posts. Cursing, of course, is wonderfully portable.

I caught a reflection of myself in my black coat today and thought I looked like a Nobody. I was almost envious for a moment - sometimes I think I would surrender my heart for a measure of peace. Except the Nobodies in the game don't really seem much at peace at all, so no help there.

Hugging me would probably be a bad idea right now. I'm all over blade-edges and sharp moogle tusks.

*Not that it was much of a failure as these things go, but my brain can be remarkably Boolean at times. It's either perfect or it's utter crap, that sort of thing.

"The Death of Optimus Prime" by They Might Be Giants never fails to make me cry. And get ridiculous images of Autobots singing sadly around a bonfire. And then I cry some more, because dammit they all miss him that much.

Winamp insists on playing that song for me every single day for two weeks straight. This is not conducive to my mental state.

ESPECIALLY WHEN I AM TRYING TO WRITE PORN.

Zen player update: still dead. Am still an idiot. Sending off my DS tomorrow to be repaired. Am still an idiot. Wasn't feeling well today, so stayed home from the shelter; will go a couple times during the upcoming break to make up for it. Feeling the lack of fuzzies right now. Am still a fucking idiot.

First, re: newsletter thing from yesterday. It was part guilt and part stubbornness that got me writing in the end, but I managed to bang out a short thing for my part of the newsletter. It helped, of course, that I could get away with less than four hundred words (at least seventy percent of which was pure, unrestrained snark). Whether all this is a good sign regarding my mood as of late, I leave to you to decide, dear reader.

Speaking of my stressed-out mood, Potential Boss hasn't gotten back to me yet about Teh Job, and I'm... kinda relieved. To be honest, I don't think I'll get it - the lady seemed about as stressed-out as I feel, and generally didn't sound ready to babysit me while I learned the trade. And on my end, I've been so worn out and edgy about school lately, I just don't see how I could handle a job on top of that. I almost miss my frame shop job - sure, the pay was crap, but it was better than nothing, and there wasn't much to do besides sit in the back and crochet. God, I wish I'd never even heard of Kramer Graphics. So, I guess it comes down to a choice. Which do I value more right now: monies or sanity?

Bah, enough of that depressing talk! I have been reading Books, which makes everything better. Pithy reviews behind the cuts, general spoiler warning:

( White Night, by Jim Butcher )

( Dark Moon Defender, by Sharon Shinn )

( The Virtu, by Sarah Monette )

Last thing: FreeRice.com, a flash vocab game that donates ten grains of rice to starving communities through the UN for every word you get right. Perfect for bookish types who are a) socially conscious, and b) lazy. Though I have to wonder how much rice they'd get if they had used, say, Tetris. Ten grains per line? Good lord, the Internet would solve the world hunger problem in a heartbeat. XD